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jade-parcels · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! could i request a short nsfw story with Albedo? I read something a while ago and I can't find anything similar but he was written as very disinterested with a desperate s/o and hdhgfdshjfg it had me in shambles istg. sorry if this is too much TwT

- NOTSFW!! Minors do not interact with this post -

——————————————————

Dismissive

Albedo x female reader

This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be so...enjoy 0-0

———

Albedo is often rather busy, his duties as the chief alchemist of the Knights of Favonious take up nearly all of his time. When he does have free time, he’s playing with Klee, taking you to lunch or passing out from exhaustion on his way home from the knights’ headquarters. He never learns though, instead he works even harder once he’s released from the Church’s infirmary. Then he rushes to catch up on the work he missed while he was out of commission.

All in all, he is hardly able to take care of you when your certain... urges... Make themselves known. You spend many nights alone, your sheets cold though your mind is filled with images of your boyfriend. His soft, pale hands running over your skin, his slender fingers working you open, his eyes half lidded as he stares down at you...That is just a fantasy though. One that plagues you, that makes you crave Albedo’s touch more and more as time passes on. Today was your breaking point.

You went to visit Albedo at work, sitting at his desk while he went over notes and talked to his colleagues. He practically ignored your presence for hours, only talking to you in order to swat your hand away from his work

“Don’t touch that” he had warned “If that gets on your skin, it will melt through your flesh until only bone remains. You have no idea how dangerous these chemicals truly are” and with that, he went back to work, hunching over his parchment in the dim light his lamp provided.

He looked so handsome in this light. The way the warm, gold hit his hair, it almost sparkles. His pale skin looked warm and welcoming too, you could imagine what his cheek would feel like pressed against yours, how warm his hands would be after wearing gloves all day, how soft his hair would be if you just had the chance to weave your fingers into it and pull-

You found yourself blushing at the thought, trying to pull your gaze off of him to look anywhere else but you just couldn’t take your eyes off the man. He had you under his spell, you were in too deep now. The man in question huffed a sigh, abruptly getting up to rummage through a shelf of chemicals. Glass bottles clinked against each other, the colorful liquids sloshing around. Finally he found what he was looking for: a short, stubby looking tube with a wide base and a brownish red solution inside. As he shook the tube, the liquid seemed to shimmer in the light though that could have been your imagination. You squirm in your seat as you try to calm down. Now isn’t the time to be thinking like that, you just have to wait another hour or so before making your move on him! He won’t be able to say no when his work is done. That’s was your plan at least

“You’ve been staring at me for awhile now,” Albedo points out, ever so observant. “Is something wrong?” He already seems to know the answer though. The blond crosses the room back to you, gesturing for you to stick your hand out. He places the tube into your palm, watching you with an unreadable expression

You turn the tube over in your hand, watching the liquid inside move around “What do you want me to do with this...?”

“Drink it” He says, sounding almost bored as he does. Without even bothering to watch you drink, he sits back at his desk to continue his report.

“What will this do?” You ask as you take the cork out

“You’ll see” that answer doesn’t exactly reassure you at all. Just after he got done telling you how dangerous these chemicals can be, he’s now having you drink one? It’s a strange feeling. On one hand, you don’t want to be a test subject- what if something happens? But on the other hand, Albedo is extremely skilled, there’s no way he’d have you drink something dangerous. So you give the vial a sniff before downing the contents.

The liquid tastes like tea though it burns on its way down, so much so that it sends you into a fit of coughing

“That’s normal” Albedo tells you, not bothering to look up at you. You try to ask again what this was supposed to do but you get no response.

The longer you sit, the hotter you feel. Sweat begins to form on your brow, your hands start to shake. Just as you’re beginning to worry you’re hit with a wave of want. Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees, your body aches so terribly. And you’re aware that Albedo has- no is the cure.

You fall out of your chair onto the cold, wood floor, gasping at the impact. You grab Albedo’s ankle, shaking his foot to get his attention “Bedo...Bedo help me” you whimper pitifully, whining as you feel your own wetness between your thighs “It’s too much...”

You hear him shuffle papers around before he leans down so you can see him “That is exactly what that potion was meant to do” he explains flatly “This is what you wanted, right? Enjoy yourself”

“I can’t just lay here on the floor like this- I can’t do this alone” you yank on his leg again, resting your forehead on the top of his boot. You’re hit with another wave of need, your body shaking as your hole clenches around nothing “Please baby please help me” you long for him to touch you, for him to really touch you, not just the version of him in your dreams

Albedo simply sighs, pushing his chair back so he can properly look at you beneath the table “Lay on your back and open your legs” you do as you’re told, hurrying to get into position. You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Now he can clearly see the wetness that seeped through your underwear and pants but he doesn’t react. Instead, he scoots his chair forward again, going right back to his work. Just as you’re about to complain, he lifts his foot, pressing the heel of his boot against you. The friction of your pants rubbing against your clit feels so good- far better than it ever has before. You shudder and moan at the contact, pushing your hips up into his foot. Albedo pays you no mind, simply rubbing his foot up and down over you.

Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, it has you seeing stars and losing your breath. You’ve never finished so quickly before, especially with such little contact. “That’s all it took? Hm, I thought you’d last a bit longer” the blond almost sounds disappointed “Let’s try again” before you could process what he said, he was back to the same rhythm again.

This went on for hours, at least it felt like hours. Hours of moaning, cumming, whining and pleading for Albedo to fuck you properly. He didn’t budge, instead he simply dragged orgasm after orgasm out of you with just the heel of his boot. You were shaking uncontrollably now as your oh-so sensitive body tried to keep up with your boyfriend’s ruthless experiment- yes, this had to be an experiment of some sort! Something so cruel yet so deliciously good, it was enough to have you sobbing

“Quiet down for a moment” he nudges you with his foot, pushing his seat back to make room for himself as he sits on the floor in front of you. You reach out for him to pull him down for a kiss, sniffling and gasping through your tears. “Don’t cry, you’re fine” he sighs, kissing your wet cheek. With that, he works your soaked undergarments off, pulling his cock out of his pants “You’ve made quite the mess. I’ll have to mop the floor now”

With little warning, he lines himself up and thrusts into your sore, sensitive hole, earning a wet squelch as he does. You moan pitifully, grabbing at his arms, his shoulders, any part of him you can. Albedo simply sets a quick rhythm, ignoring your complaints of ‘it’s too much Bedo please!’ as he works to get himself off. He has needs too and knowing that he’s using you as his experimental fuck toy makes you feel even hotter. You finally have his attention! You’re going to let him know just how good he makes you feel

He doesn’t respond to your moans, grunting in your ear as he picks up the pace. He breaths in your scent, His office is filled with the sounds of your slapping skin and high pitched, incoherent moans “Yes! Yes, Bedo! Please- please use me! Yes!” You cry out, digging your fingers into the fabric of his jacket. Albedo’s breath hitches and he comes, his hips jerking forward as he does.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, panting as you compose yourselves. The effects of whatever potion your boyfriend had given you was wearing off, though not entirely, you didn’t feel as hot now though your body still shook like a leaf.

“Mm. Well, you’re free to go home” Albedo murmurs, using the hem of your shirt to clean himself off before tucking himself back into his pants. “I’ll do my best to be home before sunrise but don’t sit up and wait for me, I advise that you go home and sleep this off”

“T-that’s it?” You ask, sitting up to meet his gaze again “I can’t walk home like this, my clothes are ruined and my legs-“

“Sucrose has a change of clothes in case of emergencies, go ahead and change into that” he merely shrugs, hoisting himself back into his seat, scooting forward to get back to work. You can hardly believe it! After all of that, all he can think about is sending you home so he can work? While it is somewhat surprising, you also could have expected this behavior from him.

“Ugh...Fine, whatever” you groan, stretching your sore legs, nudging him as you do “You owe me”

“Owe you for what? Haven’t you had fun?” He asks. You can hear the soft scratching of his quill against parchment “If anything, you owe me”

“Well yes but next time, I’d rather be in bed with you, not on your gross laboratory floor...” you roll over on your side, resting your head on your arms “Maybe I’ll run an experiment on you next time...See how you like it”

“I would enjoy that. Any opportunity for education or exploration is fine with me”

You roll your eyes, unable to help the soft smile that creeps across your face. Your limbs feel heavy, your body is achy and tired from the repeated orgasms. You really could fall asleep right here on the cool floor... Before you can even think about getting up, you fall asleep, getting the rest your body deserved after such a taxing evening. You even managed to sleep through the journey home as albedo carried you, covering you with his jacket just in case. You also missed his content smile as he tucked you into bed. He rarely showed emotion, he has a lot of difficulty doing so, but it isn’t that hard when he sees your sleeping face.

Please ignore any spelling errors I wrote this so fast akdjalsjks the albedo thirst is real

#genshin impact writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #series: smut #series: notsfw #genshin impact smut #night posts #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader

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poptod · 3 years ago

Text

Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr robot #rami malek

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

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chaoticforever · 4 years ago

Text

End Of The Line | Yandere Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

A/N: Got a request for a Teacher Steve x student male reader. Reader is 18 and Steve is 22.

"C'mon dude. We have to leave now, especially if the Janitor comes in here."

You stood up from your position on the floor as Michael pulled his pants up, zipping it up as he shook his head, rubbing your slightly hard member over the thick fabric of your pants.

"Don't worry, he won't be coming back any time soon. 20 bucks is all he needed to let us use this room," He told you as he continued to rub his hands over the outline of your member, sucking on your neck, "Just relax for me, babe. You gave me a blowjob, so I want to return the favor. Please let me blow you. I'll make you feel good and I know you want it." He whispered in your ear.

Ugh, you hated the way he made you feel because you did want it. Very bad.

He unbuckled your belt and your senses came rushing back to you, causing you to back away from him as he pouted.

"Unfortunately, we can't." You insisted, buckling your belt back up and grabbing your bag, watching as he did the same, "You know that Principal Fury is waiting for a chance to bust us for skipping again, so we can get kicked out of school during our senior year. He's always hated us and wants us gone."

"But he can't kick us out! Were seniors!"

"Despite us being seniors, he still can," You sighed and Michael pouted very cutely, "Stop pouting so cutely, okay? We can finish what we started at my house. My parents will be out until pretty late."

Michael grinned and planted a kiss on your lips, "Okay, I'll hold you to it."

You rolled your eyes and took a note out of your pocket, handing it to him as he took it, looking confused, "That note will excuse you for being late for class. I forged your mom's signature and don't question how I did that." You added in, seeing the questioning look he sent you.

Michael read over the note and he was amazed how much it looked like his mom's handwriting, "I have the coolest boyfriend in the world. Were gonna forge signatures more often."

"Uh-huh, sure. Go to class now, Mikey."

You gave him a kiss and left the janitor's closet, heading to your first period.

You opened the door and walked inside, "I'm sorry that I'm late, Mr. Evans, but-" You paused, finally seeing that the teacher was not Mr. Evans but someone else, "You're not Mr. Evans."

The blonde teacher shook his head, "No, I'm Mr. Rogers. You're new teacher. Who are you and why are you late for class?"

Oh fuck. Guess you had another strict teacher. Though, you found it a little strange that his eyes seemed to look over your form, and also seemed to be outright gawking at you.

You placed the note that had your mom's signature on the desk and walked over to your seat, giving your friend your bag as he took it gracefully.

"Sorry, for being late, sir. I had a doctors appointment." You sat down next to Matt and totally missed the way Mr. Rogers' whole body tensed at the word sir.

"Yeah, and I bet this appointment involved having your dick examined." George Brockers said from the other side of the room, knowing where you really were.

Everyone in this class knew that you were in the Janitors closet with Michael.

Some of the class snickered along with George.

"Yes. That's right, George. And while I was there I ran into your gynecologist, who told me to remind you to keep your vagina clean unless you want a foot up your ass." You responded without looking at him, as laughs and giggles filled the room and George stayed silent.

"Alright class, settle down! Get back to work now!" Mr. Rogers ordered sternly, as his baby blue eyes looked at... you?

XXXXX XXXXX

Three months have passed since Mr. Rogers became your new teacher and he was...something. That's the right word for you blonde teacher.

Strange is a word to describe him, too.

For starters, he had decided to place you in the front seat of the classroom, away from Matt and Harry, despite you all being seniors and he seemed to stare at you a lot which creeped you out.

There's also the fact that he managed to show up wherever you were. At the restaurant where you worked and would sometimes stay until closing, somehow he got to stand near you at the carnival when you were there with Michael, and that his arm seemed to graze over your arm when he tried to help you with work.

When you brought it up to Michael, his only response was that you were just overreacting, and you may have been overreacting a little now that you thought about it, so you decided not to think about Mr. Rogers anymore and spend time with your boyfriend.

You two spent some time together at the park, eating ice cream as Michael kept trying to steal some of yours, before deciding to head back to your place.

Once you entered your house, the smell of food immediately entered your nostrils and you knew that your mom was cooking some tasty food.

"Hey mom! I'm back and something smells really good. What are you cook-"

You stopped midway and closed your mouth at seeing Mr. Rogers sitting on the couch with your mom and dad.

Did you forget to mention that you and Mr. Rogers were neighbors, too?

"What are you doing here, Mr. Rogers?"

Mom stood up from her spot on the couch, "Steve has brought up some concerns about you and we would like to talk to you alone. Michael, I'm sorry you came here, but we really need to speak with our son alone. Can you leave now?"

"He doesn't need to leave. You can say what you have to say in front of him." You stated firmly, tightening your grip on his hand as your dad shook his head, standing up as well.

"I don't want that son of a bitch corrupting my son anymore! Get out of my house, Michael!" Your Dad shouted.

"Whoa! Dad don't shout-"

"Don't tell me what I can do in my house, okay?" Dad exclaimed, turning to face Michael, "Now get out of my house!"

Michael released your hand and walked towards without saying a word as you ran after him.

"Wait Michael!" You called out after him, but he didn't stop walking. He walked out of your house and hopped into his car, taking off down the road. You sighed and walked back inside your house to face your parents, and your teacher, "Well, he's gone. Now talk."

"Look son, we think it's best that you stop seeing Michael immediately."

"Why would I do that?" You questioned, "And why would you even ask me to do that when you know that I love him?"

"Sweetie, we have noticed how different you've been acting lately and we know that Michael is the reason for it," Mom spoke up next, "Mr. Rogers has informed us about you skipping class, your grades dropping to a low percentage, and that you have been making out with Michael along with drinking alcohol."

You now turned to face Rogers, "Oh, so you're telling my parents about all the things I do now, huh? Do you do this with other students, or is it just me?"

"I'm only expressing my concerns to your parents the same way I do with my other students as well," He told you, but you didn't believe him, "And if I'm being honest with you, Michael isn't the greatest of all guys to be with."

"Hmm, well good thing I didn't ask for your honesty on my relationship!"

"Don't raise your voice at adults, Y/N!" Dad scolded, "Now, Mr. Rogers has a point. That boy has corrupted you. Changed you completely. And I'm not going to stand by and let this continue."

"You know, I don't get y'all. Out of all people, I thought that you both would see that Michael is a good person, and makes me a better person. He makes me happy and I thought that would be enough for you guys to like him, but looks like I was wrong. Once again."

You walked upstairs to your room, but not before shooting Steve a glare as you retreated to your room, ignoring your parents. You flopped on your bed angrily, as you closed your eyes.

"That damn Rogers." You muttered angrily, as your eyes remained closed and soon you drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX XXXXX

Steve stood inside your bedroom, watching as you slept.

He managed to come in here by telling your parents that he had to use the bathroom along with trying to see if you would be okay with being tutored, and they agreed to his request.

God, you looked so cute when you were sleeping, but you looked even hotter when you were upset which he loved watching you being angry downstairs.

The blonde haired male had become obsessed with you ever since he saw you on his first day of school.

He knew that it was wrong.

You were his student and he was your teacher. Relationships between the two were forbidden. But you were both adults. He was only 22 years old, and you were 18. Only a four year difference. You were an angel. His angel.

Steve unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans along with his boxers.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, and stroked it slowly at first as images of you entered his mind.

The blue eyed male imagined you bent over the counter as he plunged his dick into your juicy, delicious hole. Him dominating you, as you cried out his name, him stroking your cock. Or him plunging his finger into your tight hole, watching as he had you pinned under him, looking so helpless and desperate.

All of those dirty thoughts ended up becoming filthier and filthier, causing Steve to pick up his pace. He strokes himself harder and faster, letting out a little moan. Luckily, that moan wasn't loud enough to wake you up. He guessed you were a deep sleeper.

"Oh, Y/N..." He stroked his cock harder, thrusting becoming more rapid, heart rate increasing as his chest moved up and down. He reached his orgasm, "Mine." White come got all over your sheets and some of your body, as you face twitched slightly in response.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, pulling his pants and boxers up.

He needed to leave for two reasons.

To change his clothes, and get out of here before either you or your parents saw him in here. He left, but not before grabbing your dirty underwear in the hamper. He needed something of yours until he takes you for himself. He needs you now and he's going to have you.

...By hook or by crook.

XXXXX XXXXX

You blinked your eyes open after some time and sat up with a groan. The first thought running through your mind was, 'What the fuck is on my face?'

You lifted your hand to touch your face and some sticky, white substance was on your face. What the fuck is this?

When you looked down at your light blue sheets, you saw how it seemed to be drenched in something.

Did you masturbate? No, you didn't. And you didn't have a wet dream cause you would have remembered it, and there's no way that it could have got on your face.

Deciding not to dwell on this anymore, you went to your bathroom that was connected to your room and washed your face really good since you didn't know what the hell it was.

Upon returning to your room, you peaked out your window to see that your parents car wasn't here. Good. You took your phone off the charger and called Michael.

"Hey N/N."

"Hey Michael. I'm so sorry for the way my parents acted towards you today."

"Don't worry about it, love. It's okay."

"But it's not okay. You've been nothing, but a good boyfriend to me and you didn't deserve any of that."

"Seriously man, it's alright. Your parents were just being overprotective of you, and I understand where they're coming from."

You smiled on the other side of the phone. You had the best boyfriend and also the toughest boyfriend ever.

"Well, I'm really glad you're ok after all of that. And do you wanna pick me up and hang out today, or have you had enough of the L/N family for one day?"

"I'll come pick you up and hopefully your parents aren't home because there is something I want to do to you that your parents wouldn't appreciate."

You grinned, "Lucky for you, they aren't here right now and probably won't be for a while. Wow Michael, maybe you really are corrupting me. You're a bad boy."

"Oh, I'm the baddest and I plan on corrupting you to the fullest," You both laughed and the sound of his laugh was so soothing to your ears, "I'll see you later, sweetcheeks."

"I'll see you later, tree biscuit."

You hung up the phone and placed it on the bed. You couldn't wait for him to get here.

Until he arrives, you decide to watch TV and put on one of those Marvel movies. To be quite honest, you found it awfully strange how Mr. Rogers and your chemistry teacher, Mr. Stark looked a lot like the actors in the movie, Chris Evans and Robert Downey Jr. Almost identical.

Weird right?

XXXXX XXXXX

You paused the movie midway when you got a text message on your phone.

Open the door. ~Michael.

Excitement fluttered through you like a drug and you ran downstairs, opening the door. You frowned, not seeing him anywhere, but his car was parked in front of your house, his dark windows made it impossible for you to see him through it.

You made a mental note to talk to him about that. You went over to his car and opened the door, "C'mon Michael, let's-" You paused midway, finally getting a good look at your boyfriend and you screamed.

His body was in the front seat of the car, blood covering most of his body with a knife jammed into his side. You checked his pulse and let out a little sigh of relief that he had a pulse. A fading pulse, but a pulse nonetheless.

He could be okay. But you didn't understand who would do this to him, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because you'd have to hurry or he would die.

You ran back inside and upstairs to get your phone, but it was gone. What? You left it on the bed. You were sure of it.

Music suddenly started playing throughout your house and it was a song you knew all too well. This was you and Michael's song that you both listened to when he asked you out.

You walked down the stairs cautiously, but not before grabbing the emergency knife you kept in your closet for safety reasons.

"Hello Y/N," Steve's voice came from behind you, causing you to turn around. He stood there with flowers in his hand as he sent you a dashing smile, "I got you your favorite flowers and I know that this is your favorite song."

"What are you doing in my house?!" You screamed, holding the knife in front of you defensively when you saw him take a step forward.

"I'm here for you. I'm here to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Despite being my student, I know that you are the one for me. We are meant to be together. I know it. Will you go out with me?" He asked, taking another step forward.

You shook your head and watched as his face morphed into anger real quick, "No, you sick fuck!"

You stabbed him in the thigh as he winced in pain. You ran to the door, but was yanked back into his chest with one hand as he dropped the flowers on the floor with his other hand and used it to take the knife out of his thigh, wincing.

He turned you around to face him and gripped your arms possessively.

"You are so damn lucky that I love you. Even when you stabbed me, I can't hate you. I love you too much. I killed Michael for us to be together and I'm not letting you leave me," He kissed you forcibly, sucking on your earlobe, "Can't wait to breed you. You're going to be a good boy for me and let me breed you like the good bitch you are. To suck on your cock will be a dream come true for me and I won't have to imagine myself with your dirty underwear I stolen from your room or the cameras I had installed here."

Of course, it wouldn't actually work because you were two guys and couldn't have a child, but what made it hotter was the fact that you couldn't.

He loved the feeling of having complete control over you right now. It brought him great joy since you now knew who was in charge here.

"You're mine, Y/N. You're mine as much as I'm yours and as you know, I'll kill anyone who dares to take you away from me. It's gonna be me and you until the end of the line."

XXXXX XXXXX

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #yandere steve rogers #yandere steve rogers x reader #yandere steve rogers x male reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x male reader #yandere marvel #yandere marvel x male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe » Aomine Daiki

Aomine Daiki x Chubby! Fem! Reader

A/N : hi! My second non one piece fic so yay, I’m happy it’s for KnB and Aomine! Please enjoy! :3

note : I had soooo many ideas for thisssss but instead of my original idea, I went for something a little more Cliché ;-;

Summary : after being friends with Aomine for so long and developing feelings, you keep shut about them and protect your friendship. And then, Aomine finds out about what’s been happening.

“Daiki, would you get up already?”

No response came from dark blue haired athlete other than the gentle snores that escaped his lips.

You roll your eyes and went to pick up the women’s magazine that was opened across his face, just as the tan one sighs heavily and grunts out.

“Oi.. [Name]? Where’s Satsuki?” He groans, turning onto his side and pulls off the magazine from his face.

He takes a look to see the page he was looking at to be one of those thicker, curvy models.

You sigh and walk around to face him, kneeling in front of him once again, your thick thighs exposing itself from your skirt.

“She’s managing the boys at practice. She asked me to come get you.”

Aomine grunts out in annoyance at your words and looks up to see your face, staring down at him. He moved onto his back and continues looking at you.

“...”

His silence makes you smile a bit in defeat and exhale. “Come on, sleeping beauty, you need to get to practice. Otherwise, Satsuki will have my ass.”

“I’m too tired.” Aomine mutters, turning back onto his side, turning so he faced you this time and stares up at you lazily.

Examining your features in silence, Aomine took in your appearance at the moment.

There wasn’t a readable expression on his face so you couldn’t guess what he was thinking. His staring did cause your cheeks to pinken as his eyes shifted down.

He eyes your legs for a moment, the staring hard enough to make you shift to ignore it, as you poked him.

“Come on, just get up, please?” You plead making Aomine pout and close his eyes to avoid your expression. “I don’t care, I don’t wanna..” he sulks quietly.

You heave a heavy sigh and pat your skirt down and hum, leaning close to his face, his eyes still shut.

“I’ll buy you the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog for you~” you sang, in hopes of convincing him to get you.

The blue haired athlete opens an eye to come face to face with you, inches away, and seeing how close you were to him causes him to swallow and turn away, covering his eyes with his arms.

Fortunately, it seems it worked.

“...hmph, idiot.. I want the latest issue of the swimsuit catalog, the lingerie catalog, and I want bread..” He announces, pulling up his hand and bringing down a finger for each one he counted.

You roll your eyes playfully at him, and you held your pinky out for him. “Stupid pervert, it’s a deal.”

Aomine merely grins and moves his arm to face you again, connecting his pinky with yours and you both kissed your thumbs. Something you two did together since you were kids.

“I’ll be waiting.” Aomine grunts as he forces himself up and dusts his clothes, holding his hand out for you to take. “You better remember.”

You lift your hand to take his and helped yourself up, dusting your skirt. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t think I could forget my best friend’s perverted desires.”

“You think too low of me.” Aomine furrows his brows as he began headed to the ladder.

“Do I?”

“Idiot.”

Shrugging, you head down after him, being sure to threaten him if he even dared look up at you as you climbed down, and headed to the gymnasium together.

—

Gently setting down your things on the ground by the door, jacket and cellphone, you went over to greet the coach and players.

“[Name]! Daiki!”

The pink haired manager runs over excitedly, practically bouncing with joy and stars in her eyes at the sight of them.

“You managed to convince him! Thanks so much!”

“Tch, you can’t even get me yourself, making [Name] do all the work.” Aomine scoffs and Satsuki pouts. “I’m busy doing my job and managing the others boys! Besides, only [Name] knows best how to get you to come.”

The pinkette widens her eyes and turns to you. “How did you manage to get him anyways?”

You gave a side glance to Aomine, who was too busy yawning and looking away to notice and you simply shrug. “He knows better.”

Satsuki just giggles a bit and grabs your hands, her clipboard tucked under her arm. “Thanks so much again, [Name]. I owe you one.”

“No problem, Satsuki.” You smile softly at her and watch her pull away to begin pushing Aomine to change.

“Alright, alright, stop pushing me.” Aomine grumbles as he walks forward, stumbling every few steps. He then turns back to give a smirk to you. “Keep your promise, you!”

“Of course I will!” You scoff, waving at him and smiling nonetheless, and began to head out after bidding goodbye to the other players and the coach.

Passing the viewers from up top, you hear particular comments.

“What promise could that fat girl make with Aomine?”

“Can’t be to spread her legs for him.. no guy would want a big girl like that.”

“Obviously. How does Aomine even know a piggy like her anyways?”

Their hushed voices and obvious stares only make you smile forcefully and walk out silently, ignoring their comments.

It wasn’t like it was the first time you heard something like that.

As soon as you open your locker, you find a couple notes slipping out from being held in place. You glance down before crouching and picked each one up, reading them as you did so.

‘Get some exercise, piggy!’

‘Lay off the foods for a while already.’

‘How can you stand to be so big? How does anything fit you?’

The bitter smile that formed from the sight made your heart heavy but you didn’t say a word.

It was a regular occurrence anyways.

It didn’t make you feel any better, considering your walk over to your locker, other students in the halls were pointing and staring over at you, as if you were a display.

As if it was strange to see someone like you there, someone big, where everyone else was thin.

You rip them up in two and set the pieces aside in your locker, grabbing your bag. About to shut your locker, you find the printed sheets Satsuki asked you to do and sigh.

“Better now before I forget..” you mumble to yourself, taking the ripped pieces and the printed sheets into your separate hands and closed your locker.

Slinging the strap of the bag over your shoulder, you begin heading back to the gymnasium so you could finally get home afterwards.

The gossiping whispers didn’t stop. Didn’t they have somewhere to be instead of loitering the halls?

Choosing to distract yourself, you thought about Aomine. The tall, tan, dark blue-haired athlete. It still made you surprised at your friendship but it was one of the best things that happened to you.

It was genuine, Satsuki and Aomine truly appreciated you and you appreciated them, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them.

The only you could regret was your developing feelings for the athlete. An athlete dating a chubby girl? Even you could laugh thinking about it.

However, you figured Satsuki had the same, so you could only suppress them.

Plus, you didn’t want to ruin Aomine’s image.

It seems you distracted yourself too much, because as soon as you turned the corner, you bumped into someone, causing the two of you to stumble back, the both of you falling.

“O-Oh, I’m so so-“ despite you also falling, you look to the opposite person to apologize, but you were cut off by her scream.

“Oh my gosh! She touched me! Oh my gosh, get away from me, fat girl! You could’ve crushed me!”

The other girl, seemingly her friend, quickly helped her up and both glared hard down at me.

“W-What? I-“

“Are you seriously talking to me? Oh my gosh, Sera, let’s go to the locker rooms so I can wash this filth off me.” The other girl nods as they begin to walk off, but a third voice cuts in.

“Let me help you with that.”

Before any of you could react, the rude girl was suddenly soaked with water, emitting a surprised shriek from her once again.

“What the fuck?! What the fuck are you-!” The three of you turned to see a particular tanned male and your eyes widen.

“Daiki?!”

“Aomine!”

His ignorance towards you made you furrow your eyebrows, his attention kept on the two girls.

“There, all cleaned, now get the hell out of here.”

It was clear the girls were stunned at Aomine’s attitude and overall appearance, but even worse, was his piercing, sharp glare sent to them that sent shivers down their spine, and even you could feel a bit of goosebumps.

“Aomine.. we were just—“

“I don’t really care. Get lost already, it’s a bother to hear your voice.” His glare immediately disappears and he rolls his eyes, turning away with disinterest.

The girls gaped at that and quickly scurried off, you barely noticing her tears from her wet skin.

Once the girls were gone for good, Aomine immediately turns to you, making you startled. His gaze down at you makes you a bit uncomfortable but you continued to stare at him.

“Daiki.. what are you doing-?..”

His stride towards you makes you stop your words and watch him grab your wrist and help you up to your feet.

And then suddenly, he pins you to the wall, hand still gripping your wrist and other placing itself beside your head.

His lazy, unreadable expression is plastered as he leans close. His eyes flick back and forth between yours, as if it’s searching for something.

His peripherals then catch sight of the ripped papers and he snatches them away, pulling away to read the writing.

“H-Hey! Daiki!”

The athlete doesn’t say anything and you can’t reach for it back because he’s so tall.

Aomine silently connects the papers together and reads the full text, and you can’t see his expression since he turns away, but you find his hands clenched tightly into fists, muscles tensed and veins forming as he crushed the papers.

It scares you a little bit to see, so you try to calm him down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine, okay? It doesn’t bother me anymore, so just-“

“Anymore?.. so it has before?” Aomine scoffs. You flinch and sigh. “Maybe, but look, I don’t care about it so let’s drop it, okay?”

Aomine clicks his tongue and turns around to look at you, an irritated yet pained expression taking over. You could actually read it.

“You know... you really are an idiot.”

You pout at that and frown. “The nickname really is unnecessary. You’ve been calling me that since I tripped over my own to feet and spilled my ice cream on myself when we were like, twelve.”

“Because you really were an idiot then! You tripped over nothing.”

“I tripped over some rocks, you jerk!” You scowl, shoving him which caused a small smile to form despite his pained expression seconds prior. His heart still ached knowing you were being bullied like this.

Aomine just shrugs and walks off, making you surprised. “W-Wait, why’d you even come here anyways? You should be at practice.” You began jogging after him.

He stops suddenly, lifting something off his shoulder. It was your jacket and your phone was in his hand, having taken it out from his pocket just now.

“You left it in the gym earlier. I didn’t want you to freak out and forget, and then not text me when you got home safe.”

Your eyes widen at you recall placing it down by the door. “Oh..” you must’ve forgotten when you were ignoring those girls from before. “Thanks..”

You reach up to take it from his hands and think back on his words, tightening your grip on your belongings. Aomine gives a long glance to you before taking your hand.

He holds it up and pressed his palm against yours quietly, you watching silently as he slowly intertwined your fingers and wraps his arm around your body. The action was enough to cause your cheeks to warm but you didn’t protest.

Pulling you close, he tightens his embrace, afraid to let go. “Hey, I..” he pauses for a moment, leaning down more so he was by your ear.

He thought for a few seconds before deciding to change his mind. Aomine shuts his eyes and relaxed himself.

“Nevermind.. just get home safe.. and promise to tell me if something like this happens again. Okay?”

His voice is a whisper, and you can’t see his face but you can hear his weak tone.

“I will.. I promise.”

You slowly pull away and held out your pinky again, smiling softly when he connects his with yours and kissed his thumb.

You thought about confessing to him. Now is the perfect time, isn’t it?.. but, the small fraction of you that’s scared, overpowers your confidence and you just smile at your friend.

“I’ll text you when I get home. Thanks again, and give this to Satsuki when you get back.” Handing the printed sheets to him, you take a step back and wave, slowly turning.

“See you tomorrow, Daiki.”

“..Yeah.. See you.”

You both turn away from each other in the hall, both wearing a somewhat pained expression for similar reasons and shared the same thoughts.

‘Maybe one day... one day I’ll confess to him/her..’

—

A/N : this is all over the place and not really meshing well together but look, I’m tired. I literally got the vaccine recently and I’m so freaking sore.

Also, is it normal to have chills? The next day, I was FREEZING all day.

#tooweirdforyou #knb x reader #knb aomine #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket x reader #kuroko’s basketball #aomine daiki #aomine daiki x reader #x reader #knb writing #kuroko no basket writing #aomine x reader

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

subtle | 2 | Shouto Todoroki/Reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,265 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You’re determined to track down the sender, certain it’s a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

notes: Hi all! Happy Valentine's Day! I'm posting a follow up chapter because so many people asked for it in my inbox. It's completely unedited because I just decided to write it today, and I wanted to get it up before the holiday was over! I promise I will come back and edit at some point in the next few weeks.

No one had come for the box.

You’d made a point to be out of your office as much as possible throughout the day, leaving plenty of opportunity for whoever the sender was to sneak back in and correct their mistake. But every time you reentered the room, there the box was, crowning a pile of your paperwork like a coronet of ineptitude.

You’d checked in with Shouto several times as well, anxious to learn whether or not he’d overheard anything as he changed out of his uniform from patrol, but he proved just as unhelpful as he’d been earlier this morning. He simply leaned towards you, looking almost conspiratorial--spiking both your heart rate and your hopes--only for him to murmur in his low voice, “No one is coming for it.”

Which was so fucking unhelpful.

So you’d set about the office yourself, lingering hopefully on the fringes of people’s conversations, peering about for clues on the agency staffer’s desks, but there was nothing to give the sender away, no whispered snippet of conversation or receipt laying amongst some expense sheets. You might have resorted to sifting through people’s garbage cans, if only Shouto hadn’t taken to suddenly appearing wherever you were investigating, watching you with a wry little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

You knew he hadn’t the slightest modicum of romantic interest in you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to witness you digging through people’s garbage either. That would have to wait until you could get him out of the building.

Which was also proving to be an impossible endeavor. He usually had a habit of lingering after his shift, coming into your office to make queries about one thing or another that almost always devolved into conversations deeply unrelated to work. But today he was especially resistant to leaving, seeming content to lounge around in the chairs you’d set out for clients, draping one distractingly muscled arm across the backs and watching you intently with those heterochromatic eyes.

“Shouto, get out of my office,” you hissed, coming back in at the end of the day to find him still in one of the chairs, his phone clutched in those long fingers.

He glanced up at you, eyes fastening to your features in that attentive way he had. “I work here.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” you asked, trying to suppress a small spike of irritation with him. “Because it looks like you’re scaring off the box sender to me. How are they supposed to sneak in here and take it back if their boss is looming in here like their worst nightmare?”

Shouto looked unconcerned. “I’m not.”

“Not what?” you asked. Maybe he wasn’t their worst nightmare, but being caught by your boss in the middle of correcting a romantic mishap was probably at least a nightmare.

“Not scaring anyone off,” he said, putting his phone away into his pocket. “I know who the box belongs to.”

You stopped short, your attention snapping fully towards him. A thrill of excitement went down your spine, even as regret poured through you. A little part of you had maybe hoped you would end up getting to eat the chocolates, even if they weren’t yours. But this was good news.

“You do? Why didn’t you tell me?” you demanded.

Yor feet guided you to the chair where he sat, and you stood, looking down at him expectantly. He watched you through his long lashes, eyes glinting strangely.

“It’s mine,” he said finally, after a moment that stretched long and slow, like warm taffy.

Your breath caught in your chest, a swell of confusion rising within you. The box was his?

Was he being truthful or was this another attempt to make you take it? Why would he have tried to make you think it was from a secret admirer, then? Why have let you run around all day, attempting to find the sender, if the chocolates had been his all along? Unless...

Unless he was embarrassed. You didn’t know why he might have left them in your office, but you suspected maybe force of habit had drawn him here. Maybe he was operating on autopilot after his distracting shift this morning, since he usually spent so much time in your office, and then you’d come in to find them before he’d had a chance to realize it. And the rest had been history.

But then that begged the question of who he’d really meant them for--your heart sank as the thought occurred to you.

Obviously, you had known since you’d first met him that he wasn’t interested in you. You’d spent years with your thoughts all muddled around him, quelling every blush, never straying into his personal space or staring at him longer than was appropriate. You’d been so, so careful around him, but you’d never had any indication that Shouto was as careful around you. On the contrary, he was always calm and intent--he never looked away from you in a fit of bashfulness the way you had him, and he seemed to have no qualms about getting into your personal space, leaning over you as you looked through reports together, putting a hand on your back to guide you through publicity events.

So yeah, you had known he was basically immune to you. You had known it for a long time. But it still smarted to think of him giving that box to someone else.

God, how embarrassing for you. How mortifying, really, that Shouto had been thinking of someone else all those days that you had been nursing your crush on him.

But you were a professional, you could deal with this.

All you had to do was play it cool, give him back the box and laugh it off like it hardly affected you. And then you could head back to your apartment and binge ice cream and be all wistful and embarrassing for one evening. You could allow yourself that before you had to come back and be doubly professional, smile and congratulate whichever analyst or support staffer or fellow hero had caught his interest.

You could be happy for him. You’d miss the chocolates though.

Drawing yourself together, you looked down at him, pulling out a small but genuine smile. Shouto was your friend, and he was going to nail it with whoever the box was meant for--you could give him your support. But then Shouto was unfolding himself out of the chair, standing up so he could look down into your face, taking a step closer to you.

You tried to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his sudden proximity, the hint of his clean cologne and the lick of warmth coming off of his left side.

“They’re, uh, they’re yours?” you managed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You are in such big trouble for coming in here and peddling conspiracy theories instead of owning up to it. You at least owe me a coffee for being such a brat.”

Shouto watched you quietly, saying nothing.

“But we can hash that out later,” you said, waving what you hoped was a casual hand at him. “You need to move quickly. You should try to catch whoever you meant these for before they leave--daytime shift is over in a couple minutes.”

Shouto’s brows knitted, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “You still think they’re not for you,” he said.

It took a minute for you to register the words he’d spoken. The comment struck you dumb when you did, a thrill of disbelief going through you. Was he trying to be tactful now? Now, of all times?

“Shouto, seriously, you can make it up to me later. This is not the time to fuck around, the day’s almost over,” you said.

His eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to you, close enough that you could feel him exhale. You took a step back in surprise, your hip bumping your desk.

“You promised me,” he said in his deep voice, “that if no one came looking for them by the end of the day, you would take them.”

You stared up at him, your mind churning wildly with all kinds of insane thoughts, wild insinuations that brought heat to your face. He absolutely could not mean what you thought he meant.

There was literally no way.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” you admitted. “But if you’re telling me I can take them just because you promised them, I don’t want them. I think you should give them to who you meant them for.”

That wry little smile played about his mouth again, and Shouto took another step closer. The back of your thighs dug into your desk and you wobbled, putting a hand down to keep your balance.

“To think I trust you with my career,” Shouto intoned, ducking his head to look into your face. You felt the heat of his left arm at your side as he placed it gently on your desk, caging you in. “Let me be plain, then. I did give them to who they were meant for.”

Your cheeks went hot, both with his proximity and the implied insult. But the rejoinder died on your tongue as the implication of his last few words sank in.

He had meant them for you? Shouto Todoroki, number four hero, your coworker of several years and your most patient, attentive, and mind-numbingly handsome friend, had gone to Grégoire Chardin, for Valentine’s Day chocolate, thinking--of all people--of you?

For a moment, it felt like the earth was sliding out from under your feet, but then you realized it was just you, tipping backwards on your desk. Your elbow banged into the side of the chocolate box, and you accidentally sent a small pile of papers fluttering over the side of your desk. You cringed, embarrassed, but then Shouto was over you, both arms braced on either side of your head.

“You don’t need to accept them if you don’t want,” he said quietly, watching your face. The intensity of his focus made your head swim, and you tried to focus on what he was saying, rather than the shape of his mouth as he spoke, the heat from his skin. “But I wanted you to know. I like you.”

You gaped at him, the words feeling like they were embedding themselves in your brain.

“You...like me?” you echoed in disbelief.

Shouto grinned, the expression so disarmingly charming that even your nose went hot. “Yes. Very much.”

A swell of emotions welled up inside you, like the unstoppable tide of a coastal flood, and you were gripped with the sudden desire to lean up and kiss him, to press your mouth to his and see if he meant it, if any of what he’d just said to you could possibly be real. Suddenly, that was the only thought in your entire brain.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” you heard yourself utter stupidly.

You hesitated for just a second, realizing that maybe you should pinch yourself first to see if this was actually happening, but then Shouto was already there, covering your mouth with his.

His kiss was hot and soft and utterly perfect, and very quickly there were no thoughts in your brain at all, nothing but the feel of him over you, one muscled thigh pressing insistently between yours, his long fingers tangling gently in the hair behind your ear. You clutched him to you tightly, an embarrassing little sound escaping you, and Shouto groaned, pressing more of his weight down on you, licking firmly into your mouth.

You were half-delirious with the feeling of him by the time he let you up for air, and you could feel yourself grinning like an absolute fool.

“I had a secret admirer,” you said. “You were being serious.”

Shouto smirked, leaning in to press a hot kiss to your throat. Your thighs clenched involuntarily. “Yes, I had been secretly admiring you for a while.”

For some reason, the words embarrassed you, and you tucked your face into his broad shoulder. “I...this is so embarrassing. I’ve been...admiring you, too.”

You heard Shouto huff a soft laugh, and then his calloused fingers were gripping your chin, angling your face back towards him so he could seize your mouth again. You went slack and pliant underneath him, enjoying the press of his mouth on yours, your toes curling when he did something particularly talented with his tongue.

“I did tell you,” Shouto said after a while, pulling back, one of his hands gripping your thigh.

“Tell me what?” you asked absently, wondering how you could get his mouth on yours again.

His eyes caught yours, the blue of his left glittering at you conspiratorially. “That I could be subtle.”

You laughed, feeling stupid--but more than that, flushed and completely pleased. You didn’t know if subtle was exactly the right word, but you weren’t going to argue specifics at the moment. “I guess you can be. Though you might have been a little bit more overt before now.”

“Then if you don’t mind,” Shouto said after a while, something like amusement in his voice, “I’d like to take you home and admire you quite overtly now.”

You were answering before he could even finish. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Shouto laughed again, smoothing a large palm down your side.

And then he did. And not even chocolates from Grégoire Chardin could compare.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

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losingherface · 3 years ago

Text

I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr

#the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #i love lesbians

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago

Text

26. Mirio Togata

Theme: Incubus

Kinks: Wet dreams, somnophilia, non-con, rough sex, breeding

Yeah. I don’t know how male orgasms work, so this will probably be inaccurate. I’m not that big into actually having sex and I’m not in a comfortable level with my male friends how orgasms feel for them. I don’t know what else to tell you.

Very OC Mirio. And you know what else? He’s canonically 18.

Masterlist

Spread your legs for me.

This was a dream and a damned good one at that. Laying on top of you was a young man, ripped like a Greek god. He ordered you around with a honeyed voice. It worked like magic. You opened your legs and allowed him to slip between them. His large, protruding member grazed against your slit before parting your wet folds as powerful-looking hands stood on either side of your head. You stared up from your pillow and into the ocean-blue eyes leering at your body. He snagged your lower lip between his teeth and sucked.

Your eyes snapped back to the blue ones staring at you. You licked your lips. Your mouth was parched; you couldn't speak.

You dared to look down at the body shifting between your legs. You gaped at the small bulge in your lower belly, where the cock was fully seated inside of you. Hips snapped into you, making you arch your back of your mattress.

You feel good, don't you, sunshine?

Don't you worry. Let me take care of everything.

Your legs trembled the next morning. It was worse between your legs, and the muscles of your inner thighs ached with every step. Your lower back screamed at you. When you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you hardly recognized your own reflection. You were pale with dark circles under your eyes. You struggled to remember what time you went to bed. Your mind was running on two brain cells as you tried to work out what happened the night before. You remembered going to bed, but after that, you couldn't remember anything at all. Dreams weren't supposed to be remembered, yet it felt like you had one. In the back of your mind, you saw a man, a handsome man, sharing your bed. He was…inside you. His cock was pounding your insides like nothing else mattered to him except make you come hard. But you couldn't remember if he succeeded.

You scrubbed yourself clean in the shower and ventured back to your bed. Carefully, you peeled back the covers. Sure enough, there was a wet stain. You quickly tore the sheets off your mattress and dumped them in the hamper. No one was going to see, but you felt better with a clean set.

At work, people were already noticing the difference.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" Momo asked.

"Hm?" Was all that you could manage.

"You look like you pulled an all-nighter. Late-night project?"

You shook your head. "No, just had a bizarre dream."

You flitted away before Momo could see the faint blush coming over your cheeks. You fueled yourself with coffee all day in an attempt to stay awake. A knock at your office had you snapping upright in your chair and spinning around to face the door. Mr. Toshinori stood in your doorway.

"L/N, do you have a second?"

You tried not to rub sleep from your eyes.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I'd like to introduce a new colleague to you. He just transferred from a different branch, so I'm showing him around. Togata, this is L/N-san."

You couldn't tell if blood drained from your face or sped towards your face. The other man in your office doorway looked uncomfortably familiar. He was broad as he was tall with a mop of blonde hair. His ocean-blue eyes beamed when he saw you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, L/N," said Togata. "I'm Mirio. Mirio Togata."

You slowly rose from your chair. You wondered if your skirt was long enough to hide your knocking knees. You reached out to shake his hand and instantly regret that decision. His palm was warm—no, hot. It was hot to the touch, and it took everything you had not to wrench your hand away. Mirio's fingers were giant compared to yours. He gripped your hand almost possessively, but with Mr. Toshinori in the same room, that much Mirio could do. The moment your hands touched, a shiver ran up your spine. You lurched forward and almost fell into Mirio's arms. You clamped your hand over your mouth to prevent your new co-worker and boss from hearing you moan.

"L/N, what's wrong? You look sick," said Mr. Toshinori.

"I think…I think I should go home. I'm not feeling so hot." You managed to stammer out.

"By all means, L/N. If you're not feeling well, you should get some rest. I'll fill out the paperwork, and you can sign it off when you get back."

"Thank you, sir," you mumbled.

Mr. Toshinori and Mirio left the room. You gathered up your stuff, signed out of your computer, and headed out. As you rounded the corner, you felt someone follow behind you. You turned to see Mirio a few steps at your back.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to help you to your car. Mr. Toshinori was kind of enough to let me help you since you don't look so good," said Mirio.

"T-Thanks."

Mirio stayed a few steps behind you rather than walk right at your back. Which you were grateful if anyone asked. The personal space was needed before you passed out. That all changed when you realized that you would have to take the elevator to get to the parking garage below, which meant you had to share it with Mirio standing within arm's reach of you.

The elevator doors closed with a solemn grumble. Your heart pounded inside your chest. You glanced at Mirio from time to time, waiting for him to make a move. Although what should you be expecting? Were you that suspicious of a man you just met just because he looked similar to the one in your wet dream? Coincidence, you thought. It was all just a coincidence. You were silly, really. A niggling doubt in the back of your mind said otherwise. Mirio didn't just look similar to the man in your dream, he was too tentative, and the way his eyes followed you around should have shot up several red flags. You ignored it in favor of acting like a sensible, rational human being.

Mirio caught you looking at him once or twice on the way down that seemed to take a century. He merely smiled and kept his hands to himself. If he indeed was the man from your dream, then he would hesitate to put his hands all over you the moment the elevator's doors closed shut. Someone like that wouldn't give a damn about the security cameras either. His smile made you melt; you were practically a puddle when you exited the elevator. Mirio followed behind as you sprinted for your car. You bit your lip. Was this such a good idea to let a strange know what kind of car you drive and what your license plate read? No, no, that couldn't be the same kind of man Mirio was. He was too polite for that creepiness.

You made it to your car without further incident. Your heart still raced a mile a minute. Mirio stood in the periphery of your vision, never far from your sight. He remained a respectful distance away.

"Thank you so much for your help. I hope we get to work on future projects together," you said as you fished your car keys out of your purse.

"Let me get the door for you."

Mirio moved so quickly that you didn't have time to protest. He plucked the keys from your hand, pressed the button that would unlock the car, and opened the driver-side door for you. Puzzled, you didn't think twice about the matter. You settled your stuff in the passenger seat next to you and buckled in. You bated your eyelashes without thinking anything wrong. A little flirting never hurt right.

"Thank you," you said.

"Not a problem." Mirio beamed. His smile could melt icecaps.

Shutting the door, Mirio leaned through the window you don't remember rolling down.

"I'll see you tonight." His voice was velveteen.

Your brows furrowed at his meaning. You were a deer caught in a pair of headlights when you turned to look at him. Those same ocean-blue eyes held a darker intent than merely working with you. It was the vastness of the open sea, cold and ruthless. His eyes were a void meant to suck you in and drown you in their maddening depths. Mirio's smile dimmed to a smirk, and he walked away. You watched him from your car how he turned away, walked back to the elevator, and climb inside. Before the doors closed him in, you swore that Mirio winked at you before disappearing.

The rest of your day was a blur. You dressed in your favorite pajamas and hoped that some food and mindless channel surfing would solve all your problems. Not only were you not getting paid, but your excuse was also rather lame. As you sat on your couch and stared into your television screen, you wondered when was the last time you got a full night of sleep. You blanked. There had to be a time when you did, but you couldn't remember. Your brain was a jumbled mess, all thanks to those cursed dreams you'd been having. You couldn't even remember the last time you had an ordinary, non-sexy dream with a stranger you hadn't met until today.

You almost loathed it when it grew dark. Night meant bedtime, and bedtime meant dreams. The longer your brain festered on those dreams, the more you grew to dread them. You looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth. You took a more extended look at the dark circles beneath your eyes and the sullenness taking over your face. Were your cheeks always that shallow? You spat, rinsed, and turned off the light.

Mirio slipped through every wall and door to get inside your apartment. He would climb through every fence in the world just to get to you. Your scent was absolutely divine; it drove him insane with want. He licked his lips as he broke past the last barrier keeping you from him. The path to the bedroom was easy and one that he knew like the back of his hand. Mirio mapped out your entire apartment during his nightly trips.

You paused at your bedside before peeling back the covers. Slowly, you got beneath your blankets and pulled them up to your neck. For the longest time, you lay there stiff as a board under your blanket and sheets. Your eyes darted around the room just to see if your new co-worker was lurking there. You set your phone face down on the nightstand after fifteen minutes of you lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. You flipped your bedside lamp off with a sigh.

You closed your eyes, still expecting Mirio to slink in. The room was silent. The only noise you could make out were the soft footsteps from the people in the apartment above you and the gust of wind against your windowpane. A prayer fell from your lips that whatever was coming for you in the night would leave you be.

He stood at the foot of the bed to watch you sleep. You snuggled up to your blankets like a child seeking protection. A few pieces of cloth weren't enough to protect you from him. Mirio crept a bit closer. When he was stood beside you, he peeled away the blankets and sheets. Lavender wafted up to his nose.

"Changed your sheets after last night, eh? You humans are so peculiar about your habitats. It is a shame, though. I might have wanted you to sleep a little longer in your come. Get you used to it. Oh, well."

His hands worked the buttons of your sleep shirt, and the silken fabric fell away with no more than a gentle tug. Your long bottoms made him scowl. How dare you hide your lovely from him. That alone deserved punishment. You murmured in your sleep as Mirio tugged your pants and underwear down in one go. Tonight, he had no intention of putting you back together again. You would sleep naked after he was done with you. The only thing he wished he could do was to see your face when you woke up and found yourself naked. No matter. Good things come to those who wait.

Mirio wasted no time dishevelling his clothes. Being a demon, he could have easily dissolved them or faded through them. He wanted this to be special and want to remember every detail. The act of stripping down made him feel a bit more compatible with you, a human. It was pretend, a show. Eventually, you would see his proper form and tremble. For now, Mirio settled for having you like this, vulnerable to his power and entirely at his mercy.

He climbed into bed with you and reclined on his side. His tongue ran across his lips just by looking at your body. You shivered in the cold. You should have stirred and awoken to your body bare of even a sheet to protect you from his gaze. Mirio's magic made it impossible for you to open your eyes unless he desired it so. You were going to belong to him shortly enough, but why spoil it now? Mirio thought himself cruel for dragging it out like this but admitted to liking this game.

Mirio ran a finger down the column of your throat and let it trail down to your belly button and back again. He hummed with delight as he touched your smooth skin. He palmed your breast and tweaked your nipple to a stiff peak. Mirio shifted on the bed until his lips found your neck and suckled. He kissed your shoulders and licked your skin. Mirio's large hands groped your chest.

"You fill my hands up nicely, Y/N. Your body feels like it already belongs to me," he murmured against your skin.

Mirio placed his knee against your cunt, rubbing your clit occasionally against the hard muscle. He drew your knees upwards and settled himself firmly between your legs. Kissing your lips, his hands never left your chest. While he kissed your mouth, his hands never ceased to pinch and massage your chest. His cock grew stiff, just thinking about what it would look like sandwiched in the middle of your perfect breasts.

"More time for that later. Let's get down to business, shall we, sunshine?"

Mirio lined his cock against your pussy, now soppy wet from his ministrations. He smiled to himself at how easy it was to manipulate your body towards his needs. If you had been awake, he imagined that your eyes would roll into the back of your head at the stretch. His cock slipped in with only a little resistance. Your walls clenched around his intrusion before easing up. His first thrust helped him bottom out. Mirio closed his eyes at the feel of your body wet, warm, and tight for him. For him alone.

"That's my sunshine. That's my girl. Oh, yes," Mirio grunted.

His hands bruised your hips as he dragged you up and down his cock, forced it to meet him thrust for thrust. While you slept, your walls clamped down around Mirio's cock. He snapped his hips back and forth as he felt your strength leave your body and enter him. Call it 'tit for tat.' Mirio was giving your body all the pleasure it could ever need and the seed it so desperately wanted. The only price was just a little bit of your energy. Soon, very soon, Mirio wouldn't need to take any more from you. He would be able to have you all to himself, and no force on earth could stop him.

Mirio adored the sweet squelching sounds your pussy made as he pounded into it. You were flooding him with your juices, and you didn't even know it. He couldn't wait to see what your eyes looked like when he pleasured your consciousness. Though your mind was too far gone to realize that it wasn't merely a dream, you couldn't wake up until Mirio wanted you to. This was the way of his kind, only most were one and done. Mirio needed more and more of you to himself. He couldn't stop after one feeding. The only way for him to keep you without draining away your life was a simple spell. All he had to do was get you pregnant.

You were close; he could feel it. Pleasured seared down his spine and threatened to burst, but he wanted to hold out a little while longer. Mirio moved faster, faster. He saw the bruises forming on your hips, the tighter he held on. He would rather crush your hips than stop when you were both so close. Your cunt squeezed around him.

"That's it, good girl. Squeeze me. I'm going to give you everything. Better not spill a drop."

You whined in your sleep as you arched your back. Mirio watched your face as it scrunched up. In pain or ecstasy, it was hard to tell the difference. Your body convulsed around him. Your floodgates opened to him and coated Mirio's cock with your come. It was more than enough to allow Mirio to do the same. The searing tingle shot down his spine and burst like an explosion. He stopped gripping your hips to seize hold of the headboard and hold it tight. Mirio shoved his cock in as far as it would go to ensure that none of his come leaked out. He could feel himself releasing so quickly that it made his head spin. When the final drop hit, he slowly, reluctantly, pulled away from your welcoming cunt. Your insides and your inner thighs were covered in him, just the way he liked.

Mirio dressed then looked over his shoulder at your sleeping and battered form. There were bound to be questions when you woke up, but it was a shame he couldn't see it. He satisfied himself for now by kissing your forehead and whispering, "Pleasant dreams."

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha smut #mha fanfiction #reader fic #kinktober #kinktober week #dark themes #non con #Mirio Togata #lemillion #mirio x reader #incubus!Mirio #Minors begone

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where-dreamers-go · 4 years ago

Text

Merlin x fem!Reader (Soulmate AU Part 2) (Text reupload)

(A/N: Hey, reuploaded this so that it’s not an external link. Part One here.

Warnings: angst, fluff, romance.

Word Count: 4,709 words )

Camelot was in a time of peace. Soulmates were encouraged to be together and see one another without issue from stature. In Camelot’s past and in other kingdoms there was a sensitivity when it came to soulmates. Drama and angst were a given. Heartbreak and rendezvous were kept secret. It was still common, even back then, to keep one’s soulmate mark hidden for fear of talk and hidden agendas. Though times were changing the tradition was still held by most families.

Your family was no different aside from most family members knowing almost exactly what one another’s soulmate mark looked like. Most of the information you held about soulmates and what happened after they met one another was heard from those closest to you. Little bits of information here and there. Yet it was always stressed how it would be one of if not the strongest connection one could ever experience. A connection so strong that most could not fathom the entirety of it all.

You would gladly face that challenge.

On a cool afternoon, you and Merlin were to find out that apparently being separated for a long period of time wasn’t always an option.

At first it was the tugging, the usual but so much more of an intense pull towards one’s soulmate. Yet if one spent too much time away from their soulmate and it nagged into one’s mind long enough, it felt as if one was being pulled by their inner chest. It was almost to the point of having trouble breathing.

No one had cared to mention those details. Then again you had only met your soulmate a handful of days ago.

So there you sat on your legs, three days after meeting your soulmate and bent over a barrel full of soapy water with half-washed bedsheets.

Having been entrusted with knowing that he had magic there was an added weight upon your shoulders. Not to mention a lingering worry in your heart. Your soulmate was always with King Arthur and the knights of the round table. Not to forget that he never wore armor nor chainmail to protect himself while going out on hunts. Or worse. You only knew of a small amount of stories Merlin had told you recently. Those stories kept getting riskier and more dangerous in their descriptions of what had to be done. You started understanding Gaius’ behavior towards the young man. You just dearly hoped he didn’t have to do anything of that again or soon.

Everything was per usual, collecting used bedsheets from the rooms of the castle and going downstairs to clean them. Not what you’d call fun, but it was fine. You had not run into trouble in the tasks before, however your life had changed a lot recently. Regardless, you had been left to your own devices in the vast room with your mind wandering. It hadn’t taken long until you were hoping that Merlin wasn’t too busy and that the King was taking time off from teasing him.

Once you thought about it, you dearly hoped that Merlin was alright.

Images of Merlin running through a dark, moldy, and soldier-filled castle wasn’t the best to be filling your mind’s eye. No armor and unfamiliar halls added to the picture. Worry, fear, and anxiety rolled through your being in moments.

An uncharacteristic pull in your center drew you back to the present.

“Ah!” You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping for the pulling to pass. Even the burning of your mark when you were about to meet Merlin wasn’t nearly this intrusive.

There was work to be done.

Hitting your fist against the barrel was a fruitless attempt to get your mind off of the pull. Your teeth ground together uncomfortably as you avoided biting your tongue. Even then, breathing through your nose was difficult still.

Another pull drew out a painful gasp from you.

The rapid sounds of boots hitting the floors outside gained the attention of your ears at the last second. They only became clearer and louder as you focused on your breathing.

“(Y/N)!”

Merlin rushed into the room. Nothing had a chance to become an obstacle as he made his way straight to you. In a moment he was pulling you away from the barrel and into his embrace for much needed contact.

Relief hit you like a gust of wind. Your chest felt lighter and your airways clear.

“Are you alright?” Merlin huffed, blowing some strands of your hair out of place.

“Yes. Now I am,” you allowed yourself to lean into him. “Thank you.”

It was much easier to breath for the both of you.

Merlin silently thanked the Universe that he had made it to you before anything serious happened. One of his hands cradled your head to his neck. Warmth and safety shared.

“Are you alright?” Your fingers meandered across the back of his shirt.

He swallowed, “I’m fine. You had me worried. What happened?”

“I-I...I don’t know. Thinking about you as I was washing those sheets. I was just worrying. Perhaps more than I thought I was.”

To Merlin, he knew you were having those feelings and he detected your fear. He felt the tug to be near you. It was very apparent. Something that he could not ignore. One that he didn’t.

“Do you think it was because we were apart?” You murmured.

One of his hands stroked your side as your breathing gradually started evening out. All the while your hands rubbed the texture of Merlin’s blue shirt between your fingers for added reassurance.

“We should ask Gaius.” Merlin piped up. “He might know more about what happened.”

“Should we go now?”

“Yes, now.” He pulled back to look at you. “The chores can wait.”

Walking into what was turning into your new home, the pair of you found Gaius standing behind one of his work tables.

“Gaius.” Merlin quickly made his way over to his mentor, his hand still clasped with yours.

“What’s the matter?”

Eyebrows knitted together as he visibly braced himself for whatever Merlin had to relay to him.

“I felt an growing sense of worry and fear that wasn’t my own and then there was this very persistent pull. My first thought was to find her and she was in a worse state than I was, but we were fine once we were together.”

Letting out a breath of air, the older man looked relieved.

That made you wonder again what he could imagine Merlin getting into. You decided against imagining anything else at the moment.

Merlin waited patiently despite the questioning look in his eyes.

“You perceived her feelings, correct?”

“Yes,” Merlin nodded.

“Alright. (Y/N), you felt distressed?”

“Yes.” You answered with slight growing suspicion.

“The pair of you are still fresh in meeting one another, however there could be other factors to what just happened.”

“Like what?” You questioned.

“The time allowed....or rather the time you can both stand being physically apart may depend on how one of you is feeling. Some days you might need the other more than the day before.”

“So if Merlin was in trouble....I would know?”

“Why do I have to be in trouble?”

“I’ve taken the privilege of telling (Y/N) about some of your shenanigans.” Gaius raised his eyebrows at the young man. “But, yes, I think either one of you would know when to find the other.”

“Sounds handy,” you mused. “But I could do without the intensity of it all if one of us was not in any real trouble.”

Merlin rubbed a hand over your back in circular motions.

“So it all varies depending on us? That’s all?” You pressed further.

“That is the general idea,” Gaius answered. “Which was why I recommend that you both....sleep near one another. For the time being.”

Both your eyebrows and Merlin’s shot up in response.

“We’ll move the cot into Merlin’s room for now. Then we will see if that will help until you two are more accustomed to being soulmates.”

. . .

On the first day you had met Merlin, you had learned more than a handful of knowledge about Camelot than you had your entire first week of living there, especially when it was just you and Merlin in his room. You couldn’t help but to ask Merlin what happened to between Arthur and Guinevere that Gaius was referring to when they found out. Evidently, they had gone through a lot. Especially being they didn’t know what the burning and such of their marks meant when neither mentioned it to the other. Your soulmate didn’t spare on details that he had of the pairs ups and downs, many of which he was a part of. Then again he had plenty of stories to tell you later.

By the time dinner had long ended, you were about to return home when you were told otherwise. You stayed the night. It was much to your surprise and Merlin’s when Gaius highly advised it. The older man did not hide the fact that staying in your home for the night wouldn’t be wise when you hadn’t spent much time with Merlin, your soulmate. Something about it being healthier for you and giving you peace of mind in the long run. The Court Physician promised to let you both know when you would be able to sleep in your own home without worry.

Close proximity was in mind. However, you had never heard of such recommendation even from your family. Perhaps you were missing something.

You figured the older man knew much more than he let others have knowledge of. Also being that it was a rather strange and personal request to have you and Merlin stay together. Even Merlin found it a bit odd. It raised more questions for the pair of you.

Then again, Gaius did have restrictions set up. Meaning they had set up a cot for you in their small physician’s home. One that they hid with a folded room divider. Although Merlin had offered you to take his bed, you declined much to his many counter arguments.

That night your mind whirled with memories and feelings stuck with you. It was still freshly thrilling to have met your soulmate. That and to feel such unconditional love and acceptance. The two of you had barely met yet it was as if you had known him forever.

By morning it felt completely normal. Felt as it should be. Neither of you wanted to go to work at all.

It was only through motivation and Gaius’ warnings that the pair of you went to work.

. . .

The armory of Camelot. The ever present scent of metal and the slight lingering smell of perspiration. Putting away training equipment was of course left up to Merlin.

He spent most of time thinking about his soulmate rather than his next chore. That was neither a surprise nor a problem for the sorcerer. Merlin had spent numerous moments alone wondering what it would be like to meet his soulmate. Being as he had past such an achievement in one’s life, he happily indulged himself in thoughts of you.

Even in the short time he knew you there were flutters and warmth inside of him when simply gazed over at you. Every morning he awoke, you were the first to cross his mind. When he’d see Arthur and Gwen walking together, he’d remember the softness of your hands. Each step on a stairway caused him to smile as he was reminded of how he finally met you. The one he cherished and would cherish every day of his life.

Merlin could not wait to learn more about you and in turn could not wait to fall further into his relationship with you. Every sunrise and each sunset was another day to share and experience life.

He paused in his actions at the feeling or perhaps sensing that you were nearby. Merlin peered over at the doorway, waiting for any movement.

An infectious grin appeared on his face once he saw you enter the space.

You both greeted each other with wide grins and a welcoming hug of warmth.

“What are you doing here? I mean of all places, (Y/N).”

“I just wanted to see you.”

Fingers lightly traced patterns on the other’s hands. Grins turned to smiles and the armory was the last thing on Merlin’s mind.

He kissed your forehead.

“Merlin, why do you have dirt on your face?” You reached a hand up and attempted to rub it off. “You didn’t take a nap outside while Arthur was training did you?” You teased.

“No.”

Like clockwork, Merlin let out a yawn. He mentally cursed.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have stayed up talking so long,” you pursed your lips.

“Maybe, but I enjoyed it.”

“Even the part where I woke you up by poking your leg?”

“That was my favorite part.”

“Was not,” you laughed.

You removed the rest of the smudge on Merlin’s face and poked his side.

Again, he kissed your head.

Merlin adored you and each second spent with you. He wondered how many more days Gaius would recommend you staying in his room. It wasn’t that he minded at all, however he felt as if there was something he wasn’t quite understanding from Gaius’ end.

. . .

Prior to your little scare while washing dirty laundry, you had other types of startling moments, but the good kinds. Thank goodness. For your soulmate Merlin had always seemed to slip in out of nowhere to greet you with a hug and a kiss on the temple. Sounded cute enough, however he could literally be silent upon approach.

Less than scary, but a little unsure was during the first morning of knowing you were soulmates. Merlin had formally introduced you to the knights which was practically an event in itself. Those who were closest to him either hugged you or took your hand in a short ‘hello’. The support and happiness was enough to ease your mind in knowing that you weren’t able to tell your family in person. The knights beaming at the sight of you and Merlin hand in hand could brighten any day.

Even though you had been in Camelot for some time already, realizing you were soulmates with Merlin opened up a whole new world of friendships. One of those being Gaius who had welcomed you in with a smile and open arms. Not to forget his advice that you didn’t mind receiving, he was the Court Physician after all. In time you’d grow to have even more people to rely upon.

. . .

Perhaps two hours since you last saw Merlin and you had eaten a noon meal, you were returning to your chores with a large empty basket in hand. Working inside of a castle seemed to be just as much work as up-keeping the farms and such back home.

As you passed by another castle servant you smiled. Some had already found out that you and Merlin were soulmates. The kitchen cook gave her condolences.

Even with Merlin’s friends quite excited about him finding his soulmate, you and Merlin still had to keep their soulmate marks secret. A flying golden dragon was a common mark. Too dangerous and risky to let anyone know. Added that it wasn’t proper to be walking around and showing off your soulmate mark. Even if there were those bold and curious enough to ask what it was.

Glad that you weren’t lugging around another hefty load was an added perk to your already fine day. That was until you were spooked.

You were walking down a long stretch of hall in the castle when your wrist was abruptly grasped and you were pulled between a wall’s indent, hidden from view.

“Merlin.” Your tone was stuck between a scolding and relief.

“Hello (Y/N),” your soulmate tucked you into his embrace.

“You startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin ducked his head to be hidden in the crook of your neck.

Humming a little, you dropped the empty basket at your feet in exchange for clasping your hands behind his back and keeping him close.

It was such instances that made you realize how much you enjoyed affection.

When Merlin held you, you felt both grounded and weightless in your presence. It was something you shared mutually. A closeness you both craved no matter the distance.

The whole world seemed to quiet and light up all at once while in the little hideaway you both had created.

To be frank, you were a little surprised how Merlin was able to get away for a moment. Even in the short time knowing each other, you had come to realize just how much work Merlin had for himself each day. Between keeping his true nature and self a secret while protecting Arthur, Camelot, all the people he cared for; chores for Gaius, and chores from Arthur; it was a wonder he didn’t pass out from sleep exhaustion. Apparently, as you learned, Merlin was use to it. You came to understand exactly why he had literally flopped onto his bed on more than one occasion. You’d never laughed at the action since then.

Of course you had your own job as a servant in Camelot’s castle; something Queen Guinevere was happy to hear because that meant you’d be close enough to Merlin. It was something that the King and Queen of Camelot had discussed shortly after Arthur had found Merlin with you surrounded by a mess of laundry on the floor. The couple wanted to make certain that you wouldn’t be too far from Merlin. They cared <i>a lot</i> about their friend.

No matter what happened or what you did, at the end of the day you were with your soulmate, Merlin. Safe, warm, and happy together.

Interestingly enough, during one of your nights together, you had heard from Merlin that Arthur and Gwen had swirl marks behind their left ears. His story even lead to him telling you how Gwen had discovered Arthur’s mark first when the pair were having secret meetings together.

You quite enjoyed listening to Merlin’s stories late at night when he could tell you ones no one else knew about. Your favorites so far were how he met his friends and some really funny stunts he had witnessed. Most of which so far involved Gwaine and Merlin’s involvement one way or another.

It wasn’t every day that you could talk so openly with someone you truly connected with.

. . .

Almost two weeks had passed since you had met and a little less than a week since Gaius had deemed it safe for you to stay in your own home at night. A certain someone walked you home at night and left after a long embrace.

Merlin was missing your company. It didn’t take much for you to know. Despite both feeling the same Merlin knew that you did have your own home to upkeep. Added that you were both strong enough to spend some time away from one another even if neither of you actually wanted to. Merlin counted himself lucky that he didn’t have to find excuses to be with you longer those first few days. The other nights that followed seemed almost extra and not singularly necessary as foretold.

However, questions always arose in the sorcerer’s mind referring to Gaius’ decisions. It wasn’t until the first night you were sleeping back in your own home that through a stare down and a serious expression at the dining table that Merlin was able to get Gaius to tell him another reason why you were kept under their care for well over two nights.

“Because I wanted to make sure there weren’t any....side effects.”

“What kind exactly, Gaius?”

“The magical kind. You are powerful, Merlin and there is no one out there like you. I had to make sure that your--(Y/N) didn’t suffer any sudden side effects because of being away from you too soon. All soulmates are effected differently. I wasn’t about to have her out alone and frightened when she would be safe with you. It’s one thing to have soulmates separated just after meeting one another and showing an emotion uncontrollably. It’s a completely different story when one of the soulmate’s is a powerful sorcerer.”

“You were afraid that (Y/N) would unconsciously use magic.”

“I was. There’s no telling what your connection could lead to, Merlin.”

“I know that it will be something great. I believe that.”

It was afternoon, the sun shining bright high above and a light breeze in the air. Merlin had everything planned; giving Arthur and Guinevere their afternoon meals to carrying specific supplies out of the castle without you spotting him. He was a little too good at that.

The sorcerer had asked you earlier to meet him in a specific spot outside. He had even marked the location with a small scrap of dark blue fabric on a low tree branch. Just in case.

Arriving at the designated location, his heart was pumping faster the closer he was to your form. Sometimes he found it hard to breathe, to focus on something so simple. If he thought too deep about how all of it was real, tangible, you were in his life.

You turned around to face him before any words were able to leave his mouth.

“Merlin,” you beamed and he felt his heart contract.

His eyes taking in how the afternoon light fanned over your features nicely, distractingly. As you walked up to him, he felt more aware of life the closer you were.

“(Y/N),” Merlin finally found it in himself to speak.

You both hugged each other. Feelings of glee, excitement, and minimum anxiety were perceived between you both.

“So what are we doing out here exactly?” You inquired, eyes all alight.

“It’s a little surprise.”

“Little? I’ve found you’re not the kind to have ‘little surprises’ in your life.”

“That’s fair.” Merlin stated before taking a step back to bow and offer you his hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you grinned as giddiness had overtaken you.

Happily, you accepted his hand and allowed him to lead you passed more trees basking in the daylight.

After a little bit of walking, you both came to a quiet spot where a blanket and a small basket was laid out. He lead you straight there.

“When did you have time to do this?” You asked.

“Oh, that part’s a secret.”

You laughed lightly as you both sat down atop of the fabric.

Merlin had really gone out of his way for this.

Would he always have surprises up his sleeve?

Surrounded by nature and positive energy the two of you ate snacks, talked, and more than enjoyed the other’s company. You took a couple of opportunities to steal glances at Merlin when he wasn’t looking. It was more of a challenge than it sounded. It wasn’t long until your curiosity about his magic reappeared. Given that you were both alone it seemed safe enough to ask him.

“So...I know that you can make flowers just appear in your hands, but can you move things or is it just elements? Plants?” You asked, gazing up at him from your lounging position.

“I can do a lot more than grow plants.”

“You can move rocks?”

“Yes,” Merlin answered, finding your phrasing amusing. “I can control parts of weather, stop something or someone from falling, lite fires, and help cure people. Some of which are from spells.”

Mouth agape, you stared at your soulmate.

“Stopping a bucket of water from spilling. Lightning once, but I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Lightning? That’s...that’s frightening, but...it is natural. The power of nature. I guess it isn’t so different than stopping water midair. Then again, I can’t really picture you using lightning or conjuring it? What I mean is that....how can it or you be actually frightening if you were using me to stay warm the other night when you were walking me home?”

“True,” Merlin ducked his head a bit.

“It isn’t scary at all. Just different.”

Blue eyes glanced back to you.

“It’s a good thing I really like different.”

Crinkles were visible by his eyes as he chuckled. Deep and airy all at once.

You adored every crease and every happy sound he emitted. Knowing that you had years to learn and love his quirks and charms filled your heart with an added zing. To have a life intertwined with someone such as Merlin was everything you needed and everything you hadn’t expected.

Birds chirped and communicated nearby as you and Merlin continued relaxing underneath the shade of trees. The soft hum of nature and her energies set the perfect balance for your picnic date.

A raise of your hand and you were poking a finger where you knew Merlin’s mark rested behind his shirt. A golden shape of a dragon hidden from view.

Your lips pressed together tightly as he gently took ahold of your hand and pressed your open palm over his chest. Internally, you sensed the mixtures of strong emotions he was experiencing. All centered around you. The joy, the compassion, and the ever expanding yearning.

You released a breath you had only became aware that you were withholding. In the back of your mind you knew that Merlin wanted to share more with you. Not knowing exactly what yet sensing you might any second caused your heart rate to rise. You were certain he noticed.

Merlin lowered himself further onto the blanket and held himself up on an elbow. The natural light appearing from between the leaves above added extra blue shades to his already cerulean eyes.

With a light touch, Merlin brushed back some of your hair away from your face, his eyes memorizing each small detail of your bright eyes. In a fraction of a moment his gaze slipped lower. Slowly, however steady without an ounce of hesitation his lips greeted yours with a gentle caress. Sensitive and aware, he pushed no further.

As you reciprocated you felt his lips morph into a small smile. It was then that you truly felt his heartbeat underneath your palm.

The kiss was a blissful moment seeming to suspend time. In midst of it all you encountered a weightless, bright, and inviting feeling. What it was exactly, you weren’t sure of its name. Whatever the feeling was you did not want to part from it.

“I love you, Merlin,” you murmured as his forehead rested on your own.

You could feel a golden heat radiating from him as he grinned, the skin crinkling beside his eyes dearly.

“I love you, (Y/N).” Merlin declared, pulling you closer and into his arms. “I love you so much.”

The sorcerer never wanted to let you go. Every touch, every word, and every breath of air felt right. He wanted to live in this moment of pure happiness forever. To see you smile and feel the warmth of your skin.

He adored you. He cared and cherished you. The sorcerer’s heart could burst with the sheer amount of love he had for you.

Love.

Merlin knew what it was, he knew what it meant. That golden feeling.

Love wasn’t new for him, but this love. This love that he had reserved for you was entirely different. It consumed him in the best way he could ever imagine. It was the kind of love that could build kingdoms, soar over mountains, and dive into the deepest trenches of the ocean. A type of love that could overcome and conquer anything while bringing light with each new day.

That was the love Merlin had for you.

#BBC Merlin x Reader #Merlin x fem!Reader #Merlin x Reader #soulmate au #BBC Merlin fanfiction #Merlin #where dreamers go

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hange-zone · 4 years ago

Text

he’s almost asleep - after having tossed and turned for a good few hours - when there’s a knock on his door. two smart raps, loud and sharp.

levi sits straight up and groans. the knocking comes again, loud and insistent.

go away, he thinks. go away.

he knows that sound anywhere, and as he pulls the covers over his head, trying to sink back into the feeling, he hears hange call out: “levi! you’re awake, aren’t you - ”

she’s pounding the door now.

he swears, under his breath, and in a moment - he’s going to tear her head off, even if she’s the only vet left, so help him god - he’s crossed the room and has wrenched the door open -

before he can tell her to fuck off hange’s stumbled into him. she must have been leaning her entire weight on his door, he thinks, mildly aware that he was beginning to feel annoyed.

she rightens herself quickly and pushes past him. she’s standing by the bed, watching him with a strange look in her eyes.

“i can’t sleep,” she says plaintively. she’s holding a candle lopsidedly, hands shaking. it casts a flickering light around the room. wax runs down the edge of the holder and drips onto the floor. he’d have to sort it out later. “levi. i can’t sleep.”

he blinks hard at her and musters his most bleary-eyed glare. the door feels rough in his hands as he hesitates for a second. a gust of wind flows down the long, empty corridor and he feels his skin prickle. “...and so?”

hange looks at him, and there’s something in the way her shoulders slump, devoid of her usual exuberance, that makes him pause. his frown softens, just for a second, and she must have seen it, because she’s persisting, she’s saying, “can i sleep-”

“what?”

“- here, just tonight-”

“no.”

“-it’s just that-”

“out,” he orders, pointing toward the door.

he already knows what she wants and it’s not as if she hasn’t done it before, but after the last time when she’d insisted she could take shots with him and erwin and mike and very obviously couldn’t, he’d had to carry her up, a tangle of limbs and half clutching at his cravat and whisky breath all over his face.

and to make it worse — it was actually the worst—she’d thrown up on him and in that moment, rocking back on his heels, nearly topping down the stairs, he’d wanted to throw her away in disgust. but somehow he didn’t, just dumped her in the shower and, deciding she really couldn’t clean herself, rinsed her out how you would an old rag, leaving the water running until the worst of it was over and -

-and when he’d given her a fresh shirt and shoved her, not at all roughly, in the direction of the bathroom, she’d just taken it sleepily and shuffled off. when he’d scrubbed himself off and was toweling his hair vigourously he’d discovered she’d crawled into his bed and was sprawled out in the center of it, fast asleep. at that point he decided it was really, really too much effort to drag her to her own room so he’d merely pulled the blanket away from her, shoved her firmly over to one side - god, she was a regular old heater, ugh - cocooned himself and fallen asleep.

(in the morning she’d woken him up with a half indignant where’s the blanket but also half shock, did we...? and he’d kicked her, properly, only because she was sober and therefore now could be held to account for her actions, rolled his eyes and said no, you’d passed out, shitty glasses. and then, a bit more irritatedly, what kind of person do you think i am?

and hange, being hange, had merely laughed. right, she said. right right right. i remember. sorry i puked on you.

he’d merely snorted in response, and made her change the sheets.)

but he guessed the last time he hadn’t been entirely unwelcoming, so she was still talking, still inching closer to the bed, like she hadn’t heard him. or that she did, but really didn’t seem to care. he didn’t really think it made a difference when it came to hange anyway.

“...it’s the same for you isn’t it? you and erwin and your teas before-”

“shut up, four eyes,” he says, before he can stop himself.

“what?” hange stares at him, squinting with her good eye. silence hangs between them for an impossibly long second.

levi wants to slap himself. you can’t possibly call her that anymore - not after shingashima, not after-

“sorry,” he mumbles, turning away. then, because he feels bad - even though he’s probably going to regret this - he says:

“fine.”

it’s too late to bother anyway. at the first sound of approval hange was already setting the candle on the night stand and had already begun clambering into his bed, pulling out the neatly tucked quilt, from when he’d made his bed with the grim knowledge he might never sleep it again.

he catches her before she can slide under the covers, hands firm around her wrist.

“just tonight,” he says, trying his best to sound stern. “and you’re sure you’re clean...?”

she looks at him, stilling under his touch. “yes ,” she says slowly, like it was hard to recall. “just washed yes just - trust me, i’m clean.”

he makes a face. her skins feels reasonably smooth under his fingers and she actually smells nice, like lavender soap. he sighs but he lets go.

hange shucks her shoes and settles in, tugging the blanket and helping herself to the pillows.

she watches him as he rounds the corner to the far side of the bed, his side.

it seems as if she’s waiting for him to settle in before babbling again: “i don’t think you’d mind,” he minded very much, actually, “anyway you won’t even notice, you’re so small you practically don’t even take up -”

“god, hange, do you even want to be here or not?it’s like you’re trying to wind me up,” he says. he puts a foot firmly on her back and kicks her, warningly.

she seems unperturbed.

“it’s just us now,” hange says, “so you’re stuck with me and we’d better look out for each other. and that means letting me here whenever-”

“fine. just stop talking.”

hange surprises him by laughing. “you’ve gone soft, levi.”

he resists the urge to kick her again. instead - rather pettily - he pulls the blanket toward him, bunching it in his hands. hange makes a sound in protest, but he ignores her. he can only give so much grace, after all, and he’s pretty sure that letting her in his room tonight counted as a big favour already.

“levi...?”

“what?”

“you gotta speak up tomorrow. i’m not facing those bastards alone. i don’t know how erwin secures funding - moblit writes all the grant forms-”

he’s regretting it. he really is. each time he relents and is actually nice she tests his patience again and oh my god.

“go the fuck to sleep.” he says, but without any real malice. “and if you touch me - i swear, i don’t care if it’s just you - i will cut your limbs off.”

and for once hange acquiesces. he can feel the mattress under him move as she shifts her weight, rolling over to blow out the candle by the bedside.

the room’s dark now, with the only pale moonlight filtering in through the gap in the curtails. levi shuts his eyes.

“goodnight,” she says.

he sighs. “goodnight, shitty glasses.”

he sleeps.

#levihan #levi #hange #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #taking a break from regularly scheduled programming to write fluff bc!!! i got into my dream grad programme!!! :’)

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deadqueenz · 3 years ago

Text

Jeremy Blaire x Male Test Patient: Time

"Anything new?" Jeremy asks the short female nurse walking by his side as she manages to keep in step with him. "Patient 375 managed to tear off another patient's head effortlessly and proceeded to drink....his blood."

Jeremy sighs and rubs his temples tiredly. "Have someone change the dosage again, where did this occur?" The nurse quickly flips through the small stack of pages on her clipboard before finding the slightly red stained sheet.

"U-Uhm the Watch Room. During monitoring, patient 666 complained of strange abdominal pains and was taken away, Patient 375 tried to stop the nurses and doctors but they rushed out before things got difficult."

She stops and holds the clipboard tightly against her chest, swallowing hard before continuing.

"Moments later it was reported that he started having terrible migraines and screamed that his brain was melting; blood was coming out of his ears, nose, mouth and eyes that's when Patient 103 tried to attack him and....well."

Jeremy nods before stopping in front of a large window and looks at the curled figure in the center of the floor. "So they still can't be apart for long, seems like it's gotten worse." He mumbles the last sentence to himself but the nurse heard him anyway.

"Not only that; but with the increase of the medicine, his body mass and height along with his strength have increased in the last forty-eight hours."

"Excellent." Blaire states as a smile spreads across his face, he turns to face the confused nurse before motioning towards the patient on the other side of the glass.

"How's patient 901?"

The nurse stares at her boss for a few seconds before answering. "I was not assigned to this patient, Sir." Blaire frowns and looks at the woman in disgust. "Then bring me whoever I left in charge of M/N."

The woman nods before power walking down the hall as the man turns to face the window again. He wasn't surprised to see the dull lifeless e/c eyes staring at him, the male slowly walking towards the glass as he felt the familiar presence on the other side.

Jeremy smiles once more and places a hand onto the cold glass. "I knew you were pretending, did you hear my voice?" The male frowns before turning away and walks towards his bed.

Jeremy's eyes widen slightly as his free hand felt for the keys in his pants pocket. "Don't ignore me, have you eaten today?" The male stops and turns his head to face Blaire before his eyes look towards the door.

Jeremy rubs his temples before pinching the bridge of his nose. Once again, the male refused to eat what was brought to him the night before. "I can't be here all the time, you know this."

Knowing the male would continue to ignore him, Jeremy walks over to the door and places his hand over the scanner, when he sees the blue change to green, he unlocks the door before stepping inside.

M/N sat at the foot of his bed watching Jeremy close the door so they could be alone. He walks over to the bed, kneeling down beside M/N and holds a hand out to him.

"Arm."

Jeremy says but M/N refused; rolling his eyes as he taps his pant leg. Jeremy frowns slightly as he gingerly feels the right leg before feeling the left, he stops short when he feels bandages around the left thigh.

"Did you do this?" He asks looking up into the male's face. M/N points to his arm before pointing to his mouth and does the same with his bandaged leg. "The cannibal?" Jeremy whispers as he watches M/N shudders hard before nodding.

"How...When?!"

A hint of fear struck Jeremy Blaire as he grasped M/N's freezing cold hands in his warm ones; M/N shudders once more as he feels Jeremy's fear becoming his. He tilts his head to the side before leaning forward and placing his forehead against Jeremy's.

'Mistake.'

The voice in his mind was barely above a whisper, but Jeremy could hear it, feel it, like he was standing in an open field as a gently wind blew over him. "It wasn't a mistake, what if he had killed you?!"

Jeremy growled as he unconsciously rubbing circles over the back of M/N's hands. "Was it during your moonlight walk again? I should have stayed and went with you."

'You...Tired."

It was true Jeremy was exhausted after only six out of thousand successful patients this month, but any time with M/N was worthwhile. "I'll have him dealt with, put him in Incubation on Ground Zero."

Ground Zero was the bottom floor where they keep all the patients that were -not only- far to dangerous to be around others, but also be awake. They're under heavy sedation and only wake up once a month for exercise and routine testing.

M/N only pulls away as Jeremy gets to his feet and place a hand on M/N's cheek. "I'll go get you your favorite food, that incompetent nurse should have been back by now."

Jeremy turns on his heel, grumbling to himself about the nurse as he leaves the room, making sure to lock it back before going down the hall. M/N turns on his side and stares at the white wall with a poker face.

His leg stung a bit from his movements, the stitches were broken from the night nurse poorly rushed attempt to close the wound. If it became a bother, he would tell Jeremy, but for now he only wanted to rest and enjoy the time he had with him.

When Jeremy was anywhere near or on the facility, he could feel him and felt at peace knowing so. Whenever they were in close proximity of one another, they could tell what the other was feeling and if they were touching, Jeremy could hear his thoughts.

Sadly for him, M/N could do the same. He knew about the patients who died from other patients, the fact that what he was doing to all of them including M/N was illegal, Jeremy was trying to make the impossible, possible.

Finding those who were thrown away from society, taking them and bringing them here to this place to become his lab rat. He didn't care of the side effects nor deaths, he only wanted success.

And he would get it at any and all costs.

M/N unconsciously lifts a hand to his throat before tracing his bottom lip. He was almost thrown away as a failure three months ago. His tongue had disintegrated and his vocal cords were ruined beyond repair during one of the experiments.

Now he was left as a mute with his ability to never die, making him a prize in Jeremy's eyes. Every week he was put into a different test; gunshot to the head, cutting his throat, stabbing and many more.

It was painful, unbearable, he wouldn't have wished it on his worst enemies. Every time he made it through them, Jeremy would be the one to lead him to his private room and let him clean up there before taking him back to his room.

He was basically spoiled by Jeremy.

But he didn't let it get to his head, and he was glad for not doing so because Jeremy found someone else; a man named Billy Hope or as he was called Patient 001. He found himself alone more often than usual, Jeremy's thoughts were filled with Billy whenever they were together.

So much that he started wanting to meet him and get to know him in person. Maybe he will one day, if he can find out where he was held. Alone of course, if Jeremy knew what he wanted....He would be on the defensive.

Time could only tell, and he had plenty of it.

#jeremy blaire #outlast #richard trager #rick trager #waylon park #chris walker #murkoff corporation #father martin

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billyspotato · 4 years ago

Text

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 1]

Words: 3.236 words

Type: Angst

Warnings: Swearing. Probable misspelling. Some big hatred towards the characters Michael and Gina. There will be scenes of the show in here, but also some made up (this applies to all parts of this future story). No race of the reader is mentioned (therefore, anyone can read this as themselves). Female Reader. (Season 5 Spoilers)

In this particular chapter: Mentions of domestic abuse/violence. Slight mentions of blood.

[Prologue] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

Today was the day that Michael Gray would set foot in Birmingham once more. He must be getting off the ship by now, probably getting ready for another trip, but this time by train. That’s basically the only thing that occupied your mind since you woke up.

You can’t really understand what you’re feeling. You’re not nervous. You’re not anxious. Are you fearful? Maybe, even annoyed at the situation that you’re finding yourself in?

Everything is a big mess in your mind this morning.

You adjust your shirt while looking into the mirror and you’re looking good. The suit type pants are tight on your waist, creating the curve as it went down to your hips. Your white blouse, which was baggy, is tucked in the pants. Hair styled into perfection and makeup... somewhat existent.

You walk out of your bedroom and run down the stairs. Tommy wouldn’t like the idea of you getting late to work, so that means that you need to speed up.

You slide your feet into your heels and grab your expensive jacket and purse before leaving your home and walking to your car.

The neighbors, as always, peeked out of their windows as they saw you leave your home. Looking beautiful, as always. Running as if you weren’t wearing heels in the first place.

It was no lie that men dreamed of having you and girls dreamed to be you or like you.

The confidence you radiate is enough to catch many people’s eyes. Especially with the work that you do. You’re not really the role model kind of type of woman, but that doesn’t change how you’re seen in Birmingham, or any other city you pass by.

As you park your car, you quickly put on your jacket after locking the doors and making your way towards the Garrison.

When not doing any big “missions”, Tommy trusts you to deal with the people from the city. Hear their problems and see if you or the Peaky’s themselves can help. Tommy and Arthur sometimes do take your place in the Garrison, but it is pretty rare. Maybe when you’re sick, or understandably hungover.

You walk right in the bar and it, surprisingly, had more people than normal.

Everyone looked up when hearing your heels click into the wooden flooring or when their curiosity took over as Mickey, the bar owner, said to you a simple “Good morning”. Some almost sighed in relief when seeing you, probably hopeful that you can help them.

“Who’s first?” You ask as you open the door of the reserved room.

A woman stands up as the words come out of your mouth, her hand slowly coming up as she tried to signal that she’s the one who has been waiting the longest. You give her nod while coming in the room, taking off your jacket as the woman, slightly afraid, walks towards the office while looking at the wooden floor.

“Close the door” You tell her as she gets through it.

The lady quickly turns back and closes the door slowly, as if she is fearing to making too much noise.

“You can sit down, make yourself comfortable” You tell her as you looked at today’s paper on your desk.

You can’t forget to thank Mickey for that.

The woman walks over to the couch in front of you and takes a seat, holding her hands in her lap, trying to hide her sweaty palms and trembling fingers.

“So...” You start once noticing her nervous state, “How can I help you, Miss?”

The lady swallows slowly before starting to talk.

“I’m here to talk about my husband” She starts, and you look up from the paper to her, making eye contact. “He-he beats me”

“Do you have children?” You ask while grabbing a pen.

There’s some silence as the woman tries to fight her tears, and you patiently wait for her to talk.

“Yes, three boys” She says while nodding, looking back up at you, tears filling her eyes, “But he never touches them”

“Can you tell me your name, your husband’s and your address, please?” You ask after grabbing a sheet of paper from your drawer.

The lady answers as quick as she could. You assume that her speed when talking would’ve been because she is scared of her husband catching her in here, or something along those lines.

You’ve been doing this job in a daily basis for almost 2 years, domestic abuse victims are the most common. And their fear is always the most prominent.

You write everything down before starting to make more questions, in which you ask for details, for the sole purpose of this information being used against her abuser.

As you were done with this particular lady, you offered her protection and announced that someone, member of the Peaky Blinders, will have a ‘talk’ with her husband today, right after he comes back from work. Therefore, she should not be in the house when it happens.

As the lady is walking out with a sad smile in her face and while cleaning her tears, a man came right in, ignoring any kind of words from you when calling the next person, and of course, the lady that was making her way out.

You look down over your written words on the paper once more before looking up at the man that has made himself comfortable at the couch with a cup with whiskey.

You ignore your disgust towards the alcohol beverage so early into the morning and open your mouth to speak.

“Next time. Wait for me to call you in” You say while playing with the pen in your fingers and looking at the man, “You’re not coming in here to order anyone around, but to ask for help. Something we, Peaky Blinders, are not obligated to give. Therefore, show some respect towards me and everyone else that is here for the same reason as you the next time you come in. Understood?”

The man nods at your words and you take a deep breath before leaning back on your chair.

“Now. How can I help you?”

(...)

As you continued to work at the Garrison, taking notes on everyone that is looking for help, whether it was protection or financial. Michael laid back on his seat at the train, deep in thought, as Gina read through her book, right next to him.

Michael’s mind is completely occupied with how his return home will be. With now a fiancé right next to him as he will see his mother again. His cousins. But most importantly, you. The woman that Gina never heard of.

How will she react when she sees you? Will you greet him? Or her? Are you even still In Birmingham?

His mother or Tommy never updated him on you. Not that he ever asked, but he always found it strange. Polly never was a woman to talk much over the phone, but it was different when talking to Michael, she even talked about her lunch. Now, not talking about his (ex) girlfriend is more than odd to him.

But again. He never questioned it. He didn’t see a reason to do it.

As the train came into a stop, he snapped back into reality. He looks out of the window and sees the station that he once, two years ago, stood to travel to America in hopes of helping his cousin’s business grow.

“Let’s go baby” Gina’s voice sounds next to Michael and he looks over at her.

The couple stands up and walks out of the carriage, taking a deep breath in of the polluted but chilled air of the city that is Birmingham.

The sky has its usual grey-look which didn’t really appeal Gina, but Michael couldn’t really care less. He just wanted to get out of that platform.

Michael felt anxious, almost. He doesn’t know what to expect when introducing his fiancé to his mother or to his cousins. He doesn’t even know what to expect when he sees you. Have you changed? Are you still the loving girl with floral dresses that he once fell in love with? Or are you a complete different woman? Maybe just like Gina?

He’s greeted by suited men, in which he quickly recognizes that they’re apart of the Peaky Blinders by one of the razor blades that picked from one’s hat. And as they soon help the couple with their luggage.

Michael and Gina step out of the building to be quickly greeted by the sight of Polly Gray herself. Polly leans back into her car as she sucks the smoke out of her cigarette.

“Hello mom” Michael says with a small smile, “This is Gina” He continues as his mother walks slowly towards him, and the blonde also walks out of the building, probably just finishing the conversation regarding her luggage with the men “My fiancé. I asked her to marry her on board”

Gina walks towards Michael and when close enough, she wraps her hand around Michael’s arm.

Polly stays silent. Hiding her hateful glance with her dark glasses and showing no emotion regarding what her son just said.

“She’s my fiancé, mom. At least look at her” Michael says after not understanding her lack of emotions.

Polly opens her mouth to speak as Michael is done talking.

“Tommy said to ask you,” She starts, now talking off her glasses to stare into her son, “To tell me the truth”

“We’ve been travelling for 15 days, Mrs. Gray. Maybe we can talk about this in another time” Gina says to Polly, confidence prominent in her voice as she spoke.

Polly doesn’t budge. It’s like she didn’t even talk.

Michael agrees with his fiancé out loud and Polly swallows slowly in annoyance, hating profusely how her son is behaving.

“Let’s go home and we can talk” Michael says, triggering something in Polly as the word ‘home’ comes out of his mouth.

“You have no home till you tell me the truth” Polly says, emphasizing the word ‘no’, while taking a step closer towards Michael.

There’s some silence between the family members as Gina stared into the back of Michael’s head, almost annoyed of how the hell he isn’t standing up for himself.

“Michael!” A voice sounds, Arthur’s, which catches everyone’s attention. He opens his arms in the air while walking towards the younger man, “Hello, love!” He adjusts his jacket, slowly coming into a stop, “Welcome to Birmingham, hey?”

Michael clenches his jaw at his cousin’s words but Polly decides to grab her son’s attention once more.

“Michael” She says, making the man look over back at her.

Michael starts talking as soon as his mother stopped speaking, telling her the details of what happened at the ship. Polly hears every word in full concentration, but Gina decides to break it, by emphasizing: “At gun point”

Polly shuts up her soon-to-be daughter in law by reminding her that she isn’t talking to her, and that triggers something in Michael.

“Fuck you” Michael says, spitting the words into his mother’s face, completely hating the arrogance and hatred in her voice. “Fuck you too Arthur. This is my fucking fiancé. I bring her home to this!”

Polly fights her urge to roll her eyes and Arthur stays still as if he was watching his kid throw a tantrum.

“Let’s go Gina” Michael tells the blonde.

Before the couple could start walking away, Arthur stands in front of them. Teasing the young man into not introducing the woman. And that’s when Michael loses his cool.

“Look at this. This is it Gina. This is my fucking people.” He says while looking at his fiancé in pure disbelief, “Do you want to know the truth Arthur? Do you want to know the truth, mom?” He says while turning, now, into the people who just questioned him, “I did not betray my fucking family!” He shouts into the streets while waving his arms into the air.

Polly continues to look at him with no readable expression in her face.

“Now, mom. I want to go home”

“I booked you a suite at the hotel” Polly says and that annoys her son even more, making him start talking again.

“Is that Tommy’s orders, now was it?” Michael starts and Polly shakes her head as he turns to Gina once more.

“Oh, shut up!” Polly says, making her son look at her in shock, “You want to talk about betrayal? You want to talk about your people?” She starts, still with a calm expression as her words spat with venom, “But did you even care to know anything about Y/N?” Polly asks.

The question catches Michael off guard, and your name almost sounds strange to his ears. Especially when said by his mother.

Michael doesn’t answer Polly’s question. But Gina. Oh, she is more than confused.

“Who is Y/N?” Gina asks her soon-to-be mother in law and Polly almost bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed.

“I’ll take that as a no” Polly says as if Gina’s words filled with confusion were enough of an answer to her previous question, still not disconnecting her eyes away from her son’s.

Disgust was very much present in her tone, and she proudly kept it through her whole sentence.

Michael, not wanting to cause any more trouble or more confusion to his poor fiancé, walks out towards her, who offered him comfort as he stood close enough.

“Come on, baby. Forget about’em” She says.

The couple once reunited in each other’s arms decide to start walking away, trying to make somewhat of a good distance between them and Michael’s blood relatives.

Arthur, hating his cousin’s attitude, turns back to the young man and says with a smile.

“Oh, don’t worry Michael. You’ll see her at the meeting tomorrow”

Michael fights his urge to turn back around and question your presence in tomorrow’s meeting, in which will only regard the family’s business and his mistake which costed the millions that were lost, and continues to walk.

You are not a part of the family, not connect by any marriage. Not that he knows of, at least. So, it doesn’t make sense to him.

As Michael’s head soon starts to question and imagine every possibility in which would explain your presence at the meeting, Gina’s was occupied with: who the fuck is Y/N?; and finding possibilities of you being one of Michael’s cousins but he just tends to forget to mention you in conversations since you aren’t too important.

(...)

You sigh in relief as you close and lock the door of the room that you stayed most of your time in.

You got in here around 9 in the morning and now it’s dark out. Someone needs to give you some food, or you’re going to fall over.

You wish Mickey a good night while walking out of the busy Garrison and slide in your arms into the jacket before the cold breeze could catch up to you.

You walk over to your car and once you turn it on, you only stop at Polly’s house.

When listening to your car engine, Polly got up from her couch and walked right over to the door. And as you were about to knock, she opened it, catching you by surprise.

“Is this starting to become a race?” You ask her with a smile, and she smiles back.

“If you want to lose every time” She says with a playful tone while taking steps back inside the house.

You laugh as you get in the house and start taking your jacket off and right after that, your heels. As Polly made her way to the couch, where she left her glass of wine, you made your way to the kitchen, where, you silently hope, the leftovers of Polly’s dinner are.

While you serve yourself a plate of the mouth-watering food, Polly starts to talk.

“Do you want to know how Michael’s arrival was?” Polly asks, catching you off guard when you’re walking back to the living room.

You completely forgot about Michael after such a busy day.

“Sure” You tell her as you sat on the couch with the plate on your lap and a fork on your hand.

“Well, let’s just start with what’s new in his life,” She starts, and you nod while putting some baked potato inside your mouth, “He has a fiancé”

You stop chewing at her words and you look up from your plate to look at Polly.

“For how long?” You ask, swallowing not only the potato but also the weird feeling that is starting to build up in your chest.

“He said he asked to marry her on the ship. But I have no idea how long they’ve been dating” Polly admits while sipping her wine.

You nod while looking back at your food, grabbing a piece of your salad and putting it in your mouth.

“It’s okay that you feel bad about this” Polly comments, breaking the silence, “Feel like he betrayed you. Like he left you to have fun… Because in some way it’s true, or at least until we hear his side”

“Which must be interesting” You say with a sarcastic tone while eating some more.

Polly smiles at your venomous words before putting down her glass and slightly shaking her head.

“Want to know how the conversation went?” She asks you and you nod quickly while chewing.

As Polly starts to talk, your attention is at its maximum level. And she told you everything, even Arthur’s entrance, which made you laugh.

Everything but one thing, her question regarding you. Polly feels like his silence towards you could open up old wounds, so she decides to stay quiet and move on with other issues.

(…)

As Michael looks out of his suite’s window, Gina is already fast asleep. His thoughts and his mother’s question continued to hunt him, keeping him awake.

What could she mean by that? Had something bad happened to you while he was in America? Had you gotten married or anything like that?

He doesn’t know. His confusion continues to hunt him.

But he’s sure that something did happen. Michael doesn’t know if it’s bad or good, but something big happened, and everyone is hurt by his silence while it all happened. He read that through everyone’s expressions as they spoke of you. Especially Polly’s. His own mother.

He’ll have to see you tomorrow, and that thought pains him. What if you’re the exact same? The same loving and emotional girl that he’ll have to break once more by saying that he is soon-to-be married.

But what if you’re not? Does the thought of him hurting you hurt any less? God no. But it does create curiosity. Which is only one more feeling to keep his eyes wide open and mind moving miles a minute.

He looks over at Gina, who is sleeping peacefully in their bed. Skin shinning with the moonlight, blond hair still perfectly curled.

Can he even compare the two of you? No. Why? Because you two are polar opposites. Or were, at least in this case. And that is what keeps Michael awake in some nights: what in the hell made him choose Gina over you? And, of course,

Does he still love you?

- - - - - - -

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy

If you want to be a part of the taglist, dm me or comment on this post 💖

- - - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey✨🌸

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #michael shelby #michael shelby x reader #finnn cole #finn cole x reader #peaky blinders #the peaky blinders #polly shelby #polly gray #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #gina gray

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stiles-halee · 4 years ago

Text

Kinkmas Day 5: Phone Sex

Stiles was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or maybe throw up and then pass out. Or maybe pass out as he was throwing up.

It wasn't an instant regret, he didn't know what he had just done. It took a few minutes and Stiles' impatience, for him to come to the conclusion as to what he had just done.

Usually the guy he had been texting, Brett, texted him right back, especially after the kind of text Stiles had just sent him. The naked kind of text.

But he hadn't answered for about ten minutes, strange for him. Stiles knew he didn't have work, it came up in casual conversation (which they didn't have very often) that Brett's only day off was Tuesday's.

Brett and Stiles had been hooking up for about a month now, completely casual and just for fun. They had met before at a couple lacrosse games, and rekindled over some stupid gay hookup app. Stiles swore he was going to delete it the day after he created it, but awoke to a message in the app.

The rest was sort of history, sweaty, hot, history.

They always hooked up on Tuesdays, and oftentimes liked to send the hint of wanting to hook up with a provocative picture. But Brett hadn't responded.

Stiles huffed out a breath, taking a seat on the couch and pulling out his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it and immediately went to his text messages, checking the most recent one he sent, the one to Brett, only to find it wasn't there.

At the top of the most recent messages was Derek's name. That's weird, he must have missed a text from him. Squinting in confusion, Stiles opened up the chat, only to go pale. Oh. My. God.

There on his phone was a picture of Stiles. A naked picture of Stiles. A naked picture of Stiles that he had sent to Derek, not to Brett. Holy mother of God.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Stiles chanted, leaning forward and trying not to throw up.

"Oh my God." He threw his phone beside him on the couch, burying his head in his hands. He and Derek hadn't talked in weeks. Sure, the brooding wolf had very slightly opened up to the rest of the pack, but not necessarily to Stiles. They nodded to each other at weekly pack meetings (Scott's suggestion to try and keep them all close for now, as was the summer before they all started college, everyone was prepared to go their separate ways, to get out of this town), but never talked.

Stiles' face burned red with embarrassment, he would never be able to face the man again, not as long as he lived. He shook his head in his hands. At least he never really had to see him again. I mean, in less than a month, he would be at Stanford. Sure he was still in California, but he was hours away from Beacon Hills, hours away from Derek.

He was still deep in thought, feeling sick to his stomach when his phone buzzed on the opposite side of the couch. Oh dear God. Had Derek responded? He couldn't look.

He stared at his hands, worrying his lip between his teeth. He couldn't look. He had to look.

He lunged at his phone, grabbing it quickly. How Derek chose to respond didn't really matter, he was never going to see the man again, not after something like that. Consider his summer over. The last three pack meetings were cancelled, as far as Stiles was concerned.

With trembling fingers, Stiles unlocked his phone, staring at the home screen. He had a message from Derek, big surprise. He wondered for a moment how Derek would respond. Maybe he would type angrily in all caps, or send a puking emoji, maybe he would threaten to send it to someone.

Ears burning like fire, Stiles opened up the message and slightly relaxed.

I don't think you meant to send that to me.

What a mundane response. Normal, appropriate, simple. Stiles had never been more thankful for the man of few words. That could have been so much worse.

Stiles shook his head, taking in a deep breath. It was fine, it would be fine. A simple mistake, really. He would profusely apologize, move to Stanford, and never see Derek again. Life would go on. It was fine.

His phone buzzed again, breaking him from his thoughts. On instinct, he looked down again at his phone and then froze.

But I like what I see.

Oh my God. Stiles blinked several times, rereading the latest text several times. He double-no, triple, checked that it was from Derek.

But I like what I see.

Now it was Stiles turn to stare at the unexpected text message he had just received, confused and embarrassed still. How was he supposed to respond to that? I mean, he shouldn't ignore that right? It certainly wasn't the response he expected but it also didn't bother him.

Blood pooled at his groin at the thought of Derek seeing that picture, at Derek liking it.

Was this seriously his life, was this seriously happening right now?

Stiles bit his lip again, typing and erasing each message he tried to prepare. He had no words for that, no words could describe how he was feeling, because he didn't even know how he was feeling. Even so, he felt as though he had to say something. Besides, they both had their read receipts on, Derek would know Stiles had read his messages.

Sorry.

Before Stiles could psych himself out, he sent it. One word, an apology for the accidental text, so Derek would know it indeed was not meant for him. Maybe they would be able to forget about it, move on, maybe Stiles wouldn't have to hide at Stanford for the rest of his life, but for now, that was still the plan.

Don't be.

Fuck, what did that mean? Derek had to be joking, he had to be. There was no way that Derek actually liked that photo, no way. Derek, the guy who shoved him around and shot him glares. Sure Peter joked about the sexual tension in the room but that wasn't sexual tension that was just. . . Derek's hatred for Stiles. Just regular ole tension

Stiles huffed out a sigh, heading to his room. He put the phone on the charger, determined to sleep and forget about this night. Maybe it was all just a dream. Wishful thinking.

It was also wishful thinking that he would be able to fall asleep. He tossed and turned for hours, wrapped up in his navy blue sheets. He got a cup of tea at some point, opened up the window for a nice cool breeze, read a couple chapters of a book, even wacked one out, trying his hardest not to think of Derek, but nothing worked.

Eventually, around five in the morning, pure exhaustion took over and he got about two hours of off and on sleep.

In the morning, Stiles felt utterly wrecked. He wiped at his eyes and rolled over to grab his phone, unfortunately it was usually the first thing he did in the morning. He was used to being called in the middle of the night, something crazy was always happening in Beacon Hills, so checking for missed calls and texts first thing sort of became a routine.

He didn't have seventeen missed calls from Scott this time, only two notifications. An email from the University (most likely telling them once more just how excited they were to have him), and a text from Derek, at 6:32 AM.

What the hell was he doing up that early, and why did he text Stiles- oh. Oh yeah. Heat rushed to Stiles' face again, cheeks burning in embarrassment. He had totally sent a nude to Derek. But. . . Derek had liked it. Or at least claimed to, prank or not.

Maybe Isaac had gotten a hold of his phone, had seen it and pretended to be Derek. Ugh. That meant Isaac had seen his junk.

Clearing his throat, Stiles opened up the text.

Good morning.

A simple text, a weird one from Derek, but none the less- oh dear mother of God.

Stiles sat up in bed so fast his head spun. He shook his head, trying to rid the dizziness and stared down at his phone, mouth agape.

Right below the good morning text was a picture of Derek. A not suitable for work picture of Derek. A very naked picture of Derek. A very naked picture of Derek with his hand around his hard cock.

Oh my God.

Stiles didn't know what to say, what to do. It was very clearly Derek in the photo. I mean sure, Stiles had never seen the man's cock, which was huge by the way, but he'd seen the man shirtless plenty of times, that was Derek. Derek with his rock hard abs, slightly hairy chest, deep v-line and hung, hard, cock.

Derek fucking Hale had just sent Stiles a nude.

Stiles smirked, in awe. This was the best thing that had happened to him since. . . ever. He was going to frame that photo. Was going to save it as his background on his phone and laptop. The only thing better than a picture of Derek would be seeing Derek-.

Quickly, Stiles began typing, because if that was a possibility, he wasn't going to let that slip through his fingers.

Well good morning to you too.

It was sly, teasing, perfect for the situation, if you asked Stiles.

Derek's didn't respond, hadn't seen the message. Stiles quickly typed something else up, impatient and hoping maybe more than one message would grab the man's attention if he happened to just miss the first one.

Looks like you are happy to see me.

Stiles smirked again. If Derek was dead set on stunning Stiles, or perhaps this really was a prank, a really, really, too-far prank, then Stiles would play along. Two could play at this game.

Stiles watched his phone for a few minutes, waiting for that little delivered saying under his message to say read, but it didn't change. Huffing, Stiles got up, making himself breakfast quickly and making sure his volume was up all the way on his phone.

He was shoving waffles down his throat when he got a text, but it was just Scott, asking if he was busy today. Stiles said he was.

He cleaned the dishes thoroughly and decided to take a shower.

He definitely did not jerk off to Derek. Nope. He didn't.

Hoping out of the shower, his heart rate was still up when he checked his phone, wiping away the fog that had clung to the screen, and it went up further when he saw a text from Derek.

Woke up thinking about you.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. That was. . . well hot for one, but also kinda sweet? Totally not like Derek.

Stiles looked down at his half-hard cock, interested already and gave it a slow stroke, hissing as he was still recovering from his last orgasm. Even so, he continued on, becoming fully hard in no time, just staring at that picture Derek had sent him.

Then Stiles did something so risky. Probably very stupid.

He took a picture of his hard dick and sent it to Derek.

So did I.

Derek was typing back immediately and Stiles went to his room, still naked, waiting for his response, stroking his dick lazily.

What were you thinking about, exactly?

Stiles typed back one handed. Risky. Stupid. But he kept going.

Thinking about that picture you sent me.

Stiles bit his lip again.

Did you like it?

Stiles almost laughed. Oh yes, he liked it.

Yes.

Derek seemed to think for a second, not texting back immediately. Honestly, Stiles was impressed that he texted as fast as he did, Derek wasn't exactly one with technology.

You should see it in person.

Stiles's heart hammered in his chest. He wondered what the "it" exactly referred to. He was so willing to find out.

Picture's don't do it justice?

Stiles teased.

I guess you'll have to come and find out.

Stiles sat up in bed quickly, running to his closet to throw on clothes. He threw on a loose shirt and some chinos, slipping on some shoes and brushing his teeth and quickly and thoroughly as he could. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, glad it was longer and hoping Derek would run his hands through it, pull it. As he was running out the door, starting his Jeep, he sent one final text.

Be there in ten.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27847538/chapters/68179390

#Sterek #sterekkinkmas #sterekkinkmas2020 #sterek fic #ao3 #Derek #derek hale #Stiles/Derek #stiles x derek #stiles stilinski #Stiles

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flying-nightwing · 4 years ago

Text

Sparks Must Fly to Start a Fire (2/2)

Hellooooo again people. This is the second part as promised! It concludes the small serie, for a grand total of 12.5k words, which is higher than my average if I’m honest 😂 I had so much fun writing this, thanks anon! I hope it was up to your expectations! Enjoy part 2 xx

Masterlist in bio // pinned

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Word count: 7106

Warnings: violence, language, a bit of trauma

Day 9

“... There is no development in the case, all search parties came up with nothing. The GCPD now believes the disappearance of the young woman has a direct link to the major leak of incriminating documents that were shared to the DA’s office. The investigation, conducted by commissioner Gordon, might sound the fall of an empire of organized crime in Gotham if it goes through trial…”

“I was supposed to marry Vitto, today” You spoke up with mild boredom over yet another news story about you. You hadn’t realized time had flown this fast ever since you betrayed your family.

“Oh, oh wow” Jason hadn’t expected that. “Why would anyone do that?”

In the last days you had gotten into a semi-comfortable routine. The bickering was still very much present, but the snark had considerably deescalated. You had now tasted every snack he told you regular people ate, even those energy drinks he seemed to like to consume during long drives. You had even taken a cautious liking to the canned soups, which remained the only thing you knew how to make on a stove. Still, you didn’t escape Jason’s mockery everytime you didn’t know how to do something “simple”. You didn’t think you’d ever escape it, no matter what.

“It’s not like I had a choice” You said as a matter of fact, leaning back on the headrest of the car. “Women in my world are either trophies or mothers, depending on whether or not they’re still in their prime”

“Let me guess, you were to be Vitto’s trophy?”

“Bingo”

“How old is he, like 50?” He snorted.

“46” You corrected. “Not that it makes any difference”

Jason gagged. “Guess you dodged a serious bullet there”

“God, marrying that manwhore plagued my nightmares for weeks” You chuckled, looking up at the roof of the car. “Hope he rots in jail once this is over”

“Arranged marriage, uh?” He said, sending you a quick uncomfortable glance. Something akin to remorse flashed very briefly across his face, but it was gone as soon as it came. You only nodded. “Sorry about that”

“Don’t be” You brushed off. “That was essentially their downfall in the end. Half of the reasons why I leaked the documents was to prove to my family I am not a chew toy to throw to the dogs. A power grab was out of the question, especially after one of my distant cousins, Alaina, tried and got gunned down. I thought if I was to get killed, I’d go down trying to be better”

Your words were followed by silence, and you realized you had said too much. You didn’t want or need his pity. You cleared your throat and looked away. Soon enough, Jason pulled into a shady looking motel and stopped the car. You glanced in disgust at the overall state of the motel, thinking about how it was definitely the worst one you had stayed in so far, even if you hadn’t stepped foot in yet. The vacancy sign was flashing against the sunset in the distance, and it gave you serious serial killer vibes.

You grabbed your travel bag from the backseat and followed Jason in. The neons inside were barely functioning, casting a harsh glow on the lobby, if anyone could call it a lobby. The man behind the counter looked up at the sound of the little bell above the door and stood up slowly, showing off the grease stains on his yellowed wife-beater. He gave the impression of being just as crooked as his motel, especially with the creepy grin he gave the both of you, but especially to you. Jason walked up to the counter, unbothered by the general mood of the place.

“Good evening” The clerk greeted with a smoke clouded voice, glancing in between you two. “For an hour or two?”

You grimaced while Jason blinked slowly. Then, he smiled one of his smiles that looked normal, but hid something dangerous when you looked close. You had found yourself on the other end of those more times than not ever since he became your unofficial bodyguard. “Got anything for the night?”

The clerk laughed while you wanted to hit him. Hit them both, actually.

“I like your style, kid” He wrote something on his clipboard before turning around and grabbing a key from the wall. “That’ll be 60”

Jason took out three 20$ bills from his wallet and handed them in exchange for the keys. Jason however leaned further on the counter. “How thick are the walls in there?”

“You sly dog” He chortled, and Jason joined. “Don’t worry, if your girl ain’t much of a screamer nobody will know what you be doing. Here, take that, if you want some more fun”

“Perfect” His lips curled up as he accepted the flyer handed to him. You caught a glimpse of the bright green paper, announcing some kind of escort service. “Thanks”

“Aight kid, room 141. Have fun”

You forced yourself to ignore the lusty eyes he sent your way and snatched the keys from Jason’s hand, hurrying to the room. “What was that?” You hissed under your breath.

“You’re in a place full of suspicious people” He hissed back. “You gotta act suspicious with them or they’ll single you out”

“Did you really have to make it seem like I was a prostitute?” You said as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You stepped in and let him in, before locking again the door behind him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being…” He trailed off as he halted his steps. His frame blocked the sight of the room for you, so you didn’t know what he was talking about. Was it dirty? Were there rodents? “Oh you must be fucking kidding me”

You finally peeked around him, to see only one bed rather than the two queens he usually asked. He had forgotten this time to ask, and the clerk had naturally insinuated you’d want to be together. How could he have not?

“At least it’s a King bed this time” You sniggered. “More space”

“I’m gonna get it changed” He turned around to go back to the reception desk.

“Wasn’t it you who said not to act suspicious?” You raised a challenging eyebrow. “If you go back there and ask for two beds, won’t that ruin all that acting you did over there?”

He spun around once again, facing you with narrowed eyes. He obviously didn’t like you using his logic against him. “Right.” He then side stepped you and went straight to the windows. He closed the blinds and proceeded to check the walls for… Whatever. He looked strange doing it.

“And right now you’re…” You trailed off, trying to find why he was all but caressing the dirty walls.

“Checking for cameras” He finished, looking inside a lamp. “Those motels sometimes have hidden cameras and the owners resell the tapes on porn sites”

“Oh god” You reacted, horrified. And he had the audacity to paint you off as a criminal, when those kinds of people existed. You thought you would be sick. He paused, sending you what you thought was a concerned glance--but it couldn’t be--before he returned to his examination.

“That’s why I’m making sure there’s none here” He mumbled.

You nodded, then carefully made your way to the bed. Despite the overwhelming scent of cigarettes latched onto the fabric, the sheet seemed relatively clean, at least for the general quality of the establishment. You dropped your bag in front of the dresser beside you and sat on the edge of the bed as Jason finished his inspection.

“All clear” He announced before taking out his gun from his belt and putting it on the nightstand. “You should rest, we won’t stay here too long. Also, if you can avoid the shower, I’d recommend you wait until we are somewhere else”

“I hate it here”

“Yeah well, our disastrous stop to Target has kind of tied our hands, princess” He shrugged, like it was your fault you had been found. “So we gotta settle for even less if you don’t want a redo”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” You glared at him.

“What, princess?” He asked rhetorically, then paused and pretended to think. “No, no I don’t think so”

“You’re insufferable” You scoffed, climbing up further on the bed.

“I wouldn’t get under the covers either” He warned as you were about to pull back the comforter, totally ignoring your comment on his general attitude. “I doubt they’re washing them real good”

You shuddered in disgust as you instead opted for bringing your knees to your chest, hoping the room wouldn’t get too cold during the night.

Day 10

You didn’t if it was your state still clouded by sleep, or the shock that made you see the scene happen in slow motion.

Jason was waking up, sitting in the bed at a reasonable distance from you as your eyes cracked open. Still, you saw the sequence clearly. His back tensed and his head snapped to the window, then his eyes widened. He reacted in a fraction of second, grabbing his gun on the fly and diving on your side. You had barely the time to register his body colliding with yours that the first machine gun went off. You hit the ground hard, but you didn’t feel anything in the spike of adrenaline and paralyzing fear that surged through you. You could only close your eyes as bullets rained over you, and yet you weren’t even touched by the wood and cotton flying everywhere as his body caged yours in protection. His string of curse was audible above the commotion, which let you know he wasn’t gravely wounded yet. Yet.

There was a pause in the shooting, but your eyes were still ringing so loud you didn’t hear him call your name at first. You opened your eyes, disoriented.

“Hey, hey stay with me” He hurried his words, glancing over his shoulders. “Roll under the bed, don’t come out until I come and get you, and if they try to get you, hit them with anything you find, aim for the head”

You could only nod as he helped you get under the bed, and for one you couldn’t even be bothered to notice how filthy it was under there. You were terrified for you, but also for Jason who would face those people with a handgun only. You just hoped his skills hadn’t been exaggerated, or else it would be bad news for everyone.

There was chatter in between the gun fires, but you couldn’t decipher the voices. You counted there were at least six different tones of shout. However, judging by the familiar smugness of the exchange, you could have sworn it was Jason mocking them and not the other way around. It made you wonder exactly what kind of security he had done if he was taking the time to be smug in a one against five fight. Still, you were glad to have him on your side rather than against you.

“Hey”

You jumped and screamed at the sudden face appearing to your left, but let out a breath of relief when you saw it was Jason. He helped you out from under the bed, his glance shifty in between the door and windows. The room was a mess, he was covered in blood you doubted was his, and he was still on guards.

“So, we need to leave now” He said, already picking up his bag and yours. You noticed a second gun now strapped on his thigh and various new weapons in a utility belt. Where he got that was a mystery, but you didn’t question it. He gently pressed you along the bodies dropped at the threshold of the room and in the hallway until you reached the reception desk. You counted seven bodies. The same creepy clerk was cowering behind his desk, a darker stain on the crotch of his pants. Jason gave him an overall look and sighed, shaking his head. Still, he paused in front of him and dropped the bags.

“You son of a bitch” He chuckled lowly, menacingly. “You sold us out, didn’t you?”

He whined in response, confirming Jason’s suspicion.

“How much did you cash on the tip? 3k? 4k?” He taunted further, tsking in disapproval. “Can’t trust anyone these days”

“Please, I needed the money--”

Jason shot two bullets in his head. “Don’t care”

He turned on his heels and grabbed the bags again, bringing you along as gently as he could. You went outside, but he gestured for you to wait at a good distance from the car. He went over and inspected it, taking two devices off from two different places. Bombs, you figured. He threw the first one through the windows of the reception, then the other, he shot while in the air. An explosion went off, shaking your stance on the ground as the motel’s central area went up in flames.

“Oops, gas leak” He said blandly. “Come on, let’s get out of here”

You climbed in the passenger seat, clutching your now all dusted up bag for support. You needed to hold onto something while you came to terms with the repeated attempts on your life in the last fifteen minutes. Jason drove off, leaving the smoking building off to burn.

“Sorry you had to see that back in the lobby” He spoke when you were far enough.

“It’s fine” You shook your head. “He deserved it”

He blinked, a tiny bit stunned. “Hey are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” It came out weaker than intended. “I’m way in over my head with this”

“No, no, you did the right thing” He tried to reassure you, or that’s what you thought he was trying to do. Either way, it went right over your mental downward spiralling.

“I should have stayed in my lane” You kept mumbling, flexing your fingers on your bag. “I’d still be doing my thing, away from literal murder attempts in crappy motel rooms”

“Hey hey hey” He lifted a hand up. “May I remind you that you’d be married to Vitto fucking Maroni right now if you didn’t go rogue? That thought alone should give you relief”

You let out an uncontrolled laugh. What has your life become?

“Truth is I don’t know what I’m doing” You admitted, your voice cracking. “All I’ve achieved it to piss everyone off”

“Yeah you did piss everyone off, but so do I on a daily basis” He replied, making your frown in confusion. “Sometimes pissing everyone else is the only way to get things going, y’know?”

You blinked a couple of times. “I literally don’t”

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it immediately. He then took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “All I’m saying is, doing the right thing is an ugly job. It’s hard and messy and fucks with you, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try and do it anyway. I know this is all new for you, and this is a rather harsh welcome party, but you gotta fight through it”

You nodded, casting your eyes on him at last. His skin was reddened by the drying blood on his face and hair, and his clothes were dirty and torn. Amidst the cooling blood, you noticed a steady flow of brighter red coming off a hole in the sleeve of his t-shirt, widening the already big stain around it.

“You’re bleeding”

He looked down at his side, unfazed. “Oh right, a bullet got me on the initial wave”

“We need to get it out and close the wound” Your eyes found his for a brief second, before his glance returned to the road.

“It can wait” He downplayed it, probably by a force of habit.

“It looks like it’s bleeding a lot” You insisted.

“I’ll be fine--”

“It’s my fault you’re hurt” You interrupted him. You felt like you had at least to do something for him, especially since he just saved your life twice. Besides, you needed to focus on something else than what had just gone down. “Let me help”

He took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. He pulled over at the next gas station and parked the car, then went to his trunk, picking his first aid kit while you went to ask for the bathroom key. You joined him at the car and went to find the bathroom in the back of the building, locking the door behind you for privacy. You stood beside him as he rummaged through it, handing you a pair of pliers and disinfecting gauzes. You waited for him to take off his jacket, laying your supplies on the counter, then carefully rolled the sleeve of his t-shirt. You grabbed a clean gauze to stop the bleeding, gently pressing on the wound.

“Have you done this before?”

You didn’t see his question come, but you answered nonetheless. “Yes, a few times” You said. “On my older brothers. That’s something we learn, just in case we are the ones to patch up our husbands”

“Is this really how you were treated?” He asked, his voice surprisingly soft compared to what you had gotten so far. “Like a service wife in training?”

“Pretty much” You nodded with a weak scoff. You carefully checked the wound, and the bleeding had almost stopped. You grabbed the alcohol gauze and tore the pack open. “There isn’t much choice but to obey”

He didn’t even flinch when you cleaned the wound. “When I pulled the gun on you the first day we met, you said it wasn’t the first time somebody did that to you” He began, recalling the events from ten days ago. “What happened the other times?”

You put the bloodied gauzes aside and grabbed the pliers, disinfecting them with a smaller alcohol wipe before going for the bullet. “Would you believe me if I said something along the lines of wildly opposing my union to the Maroni family?”

His lips curled up slightly, but his teeth were clenched as you tried to grab the bullet well lodged in his flesh. You managed to get a good grip on it and slowly pulled it out. You immediately covered the wound again with clean gauze and dropped the bullet in the trash pile.

“Bullet’s intact, you should be fine” You said, holding the gauze with one hand and searching for a needle and a stitching thread with the other.

“How old were you when it happened?”

You paused, staring at his arm. How old were you back then, when your father announced you’d be part of a two-way deal with the Maroni family? Not very old, that was for sure. You pulled the gauze away and sanitized the needle, then passed the thread in the loop. “17, I think”

“You were just a child” It came out more like a statement than a question. You shrugged before beginning the stitches. He still wasn’t flinching as the needle came in and out of his skin,making it easier for you to do a clean job. You finally tied the thread and cut it with the scissors he handed you.

“I’m sorry I pulled you into this mess” You apologized as you wrapped the wound with yet some other clean gauze and bandaged it. “I… I didn’t plan this through at all. I felt the doors close on me and I acted without even thinking of the real consequences. I thought I would be strong enough to go with it, turns out I’m not”

You had been all bark and no bite, you could see that now. You came in strong, acting like nothing could get to you, like the threat was just an imaginary bound to keep you in place. You made a bold move to cross it, and now you could clearly see how dangerous the waters you were threading in actually were. It wasn’t child’s play anymore, it was real, and you caved under the pressure on your first real trial.

He turned around as he pulled his sleeve down, facing you. He was in your space, but it didn��t feel like all the other times. His presence wasn’t threatening. “You don't have to apologize” There was something genuine in his eyes. “And to pull off what you did needs strength, even if you don’t realize it yet. Your reaction to almost being killed doesn’t change that fact”

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way”

“Trust me, princess” His little teasing smile returned. “Someone who can hold her own against me like you did is not weak”

“I was just mean” You blinked in surprise, letting out a small chuckle. “I think that’s different”

“See, still arguing” His smile widened. You had known him for ten days, but you had gotten used to him being a certain way. This light and sincere attitude he had now was, to say the least, unusual for you. When he wasn’t constantly sneering, you noticed his features better. His blue eyes carried a kind spark, the type you found in a natural caretaker. The harsh angles of his jaw and cheekbones shaped a handsome face, decorated by little silver scars blending with his freckles. He was like a fallen angel shining through a broken halo, dangerous and protective, but only if you took the time to look past the burned wings. The unflattering white light of the bathroom made him look worn out, but it didn’t change anything to the raw beauty of his face. His bloody knuckles came in soft contact with your cheek, like a feather gliding on a cloud in the sky. His eyes never left yours, and even if they did, you felt like you’d follow them whichever direction they went.

He was tall, considerably so. He hovered over you like a safety blanket, your own shield from the dangers stalking you outside the door. At that moment, you had trouble understanding how his proximity had once filled you with so much unease you felt like hiding away, because all you could feel now was an all consuming calm. There was however a pulse that was alive, one that was begging you to get closer. He seemed to have felt it too; his movement was slow, letting you more than enough time to back off. As his lips slowly got closer to yours, you know you didn’t want to move away. You filled the distance separating you from him and met him there in a gentle kiss to test the water first.

It didn’t take long for you to lose control. All the emotion of the last days that had bottled up were let to run wild in between you two like an electric current, surrendering your every sense to him. Your hands went to the back of his neck for support, because god knew you needed it. His arms sneaked behind your back as he pushed further into you, quickening the pace of the kiss and clouding your mind. Tongues battled in a war that was already won, knowing in one way or another he’d be the victor. You could feel all the tension, all the frustration, all the anger and all the guilt coming in strong before burning like dry wood in a bonfire. Were there any versions of this that didn’t end where you were? It seemed impossible.

You didn’t want to open your eyes just yet when he pulled away, reluctant to even let go. He captured your lips in a couple of kisses before fully letting you catch your breath.

“Well” His voice was barely over a whisper over the panting. “That might be one way to settle an argument”

“Then I might pick more arguments” Your lips lifted in a small grin.

“And I might not object to that” His eyes were bright with amusement. “Besides, I might have gotten around to like that smart mouth of yours”

“Oh, have you now?”

“Might” He corrected.

“Sure” For the first time in what felt like forever, you actually smiled. You slowly retracted your arms from his neck, letting him stand straight again.

“Come on, let’s get out of here and put as much distance as we can from this motel” He said, but it lacked the patronizing tone it once contained. It was even like he didn’t actually want to leave just yet, but had to, or both of your safety. You shared the sentiment.

You packed the first aid kit and burned the bloody gauzes in the sink, then killed the fire and returned the key to the counter. You drove away shortly after, confident things might just be alright this time.

Day 16

You had circled back to the first place you had stayed in, the little cabin so far in the woods you were almost sure nobody would find you, or at least not yet.

Jason had told you he had installed security devices on the dirt road to make sure he was aware of anybody driving up, as well as the traps he had set in the woods. Once again, it reinforced your idea that his job experience might not have been a traditional one. You frankly didn’t mind, as you were in no position to judge a potential criminal past. Besides, you believed anything he did couldn’t be worse than what your family or the Maronis did on a daily basis.

You had woken up when the sun was already high in the sky, and to your surprise Jason had still been there, on his back and staring at the ceiling. When you had turned around on your side, he had mimicked you to come face to face with you, not talking at all. His wound on his arm had stopped bleeding during the night, for which you were thankful for. It eased your guilt to see it was healing well. You had stayed there for what seemed like hours, but it was comfortable.

“I meant to ask,” He began, his voice soft and husky from the morning. “Why did you go to Bruce with the leak?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head slightly to the side. “Well, I couldn’t go to the police, it was out of the question. I couldn’t trust any of them to pursuit this case”

“But what made you trust Bruce in particular?”

“I… I like to listen when people talk. Before, it gave me the impression I was part of the family business and not just an accessory, and that way I got to hear bits and parts of the discussions conducted behind closed doors” You began. “More times than not I would hear how Wayne Enterprises projects got in the way of their plans, and how Bruce Wayne would always do something to undermine them legally. So after I stole the intel, there was really one way I was certain would yield results, one person I was certain would have all the interests in the world to see this trial happen”

“That’s…” He trailed off, an impressed expression on his face. “That’s surprisingly smart”

“Surprisingly?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For someone who had no idea how to use a can opener, that is”

You slapped his chest as he let out a laugh; he was so proud of his joke. “Hey, I learned!”

“I know, I know” He chuckled, reaching his hand and brushing a rogue hair strand away from your face. You had noticed as the days passed that he seemed to favor the little touches and the unspoken rather than obvious and obnoxious displays. You knew he was more of the quiet type when he wasn’t arguing with you, always working in his corner and doing his stuff. It hadn’t really changed ever since the gas station moment, but this time he would steal little glances, brush his hand against yours when he’d change gears in the car, or make sure he took out a bowl for you as well when you made your canned soup. “You adapted better than I thought you would, considering the entire lifestyle change you had to go through in the last two weeks”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” You grinned.

“Nope, not at all, princess” He pushed himself on his elbows and leaned down to kiss you. You smiled onto his lips, welcoming the slow movements of him against you. However, you gently pushed him back after a moment, knowing if he had it his way, you’d stay there for hours.

“Jason” You said his name when he was visibly trying to distract you again with butterfly kisses on your jaw, only pausing to give you wide, innocent eyes. Insufferable. “I have to go take a shower”

“I’ll come with” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah” He nodded. “Listen. You hired me to protect you, so that’s what I’m going to do”

“From what?” You laughed at his serious tone.

“Water’s cold”

“So NOW you want to protect me from the cold water?” You raised an eyebrow. “That surely wasn’t the discourse you held two weeks ago”

“People change, princess” He sighed exaggeratedly before getting up and walking to your side of the bed. “Come on, you said it yourself, you’ve got a shower to take”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless accepted the hand he held out for you. You went to the bathroom and undressed, then managed to get into the relatively small shower, your back to Jason. He was so tall he actually shielded you from the water from the showerhead when he turned the shower on, getting all the burning cold on his back instead.

“See?” He chuckled. “No cold water”

“But how will I wash myself if the water doesn’t get to me?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. He stared blankly at you, like he didn’t think of that.

“Let me worry about it” He dismissed, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright”

He began slowly rubbing your skin with his wet hands, spreading water indirectly. His fingertips were still cold, but you knew for a fact it was slightly better than the direct flow from the tap. Goosebumps erupted all over your arms and back, both from the sudden change of temperature and his touch. You closed your eyes, enjoying the contrast in between the water and his still warm chest. He wet your hair, combing it with his hands, before he put the shampoo in and made it lather. Immediately, you recognized the smell.

“Is this your shampoo?” You asked, your eyes opening.

“Mhh”

“I thought you didn’t like when people used your stuff”

“Technically, I’m using it”

“Still!” You replied. “You practically threatened me last time I dared wear your shampoo”

“Truth is” He leaned in, his lips almost pressed against your ear. “It kinda drove me hog fucking wild to have you prancing around smelling like me”

Your eyes widened and the back of your neck heated enough for you to warm the water dripping down your back. You gulped, unable to answer that as it came as a shock for you that you have had another effect on him aside from pissing him off. He chuckled at your lack of comeback, his hot breath fanning your jaw. He slowly rinsed the soap out of your hair, then began washing your skin. His hands massaged your muscles as they went, making you sigh in contentment. At this point, you had backed so much into him you were just as much subject to the direct contact of the water as him, but you didn’t care.

He trailed small kisses from behind your ears down to your shoulder before pausing there, as if he was hesitant. He lifted his head slightly, and you could see his stare right on you from your peripheral vision.

“I need to tell you something”

You were surprised by the sudden seriousness of his words, but you tilted your head to show him you were listening.

“I’m the Red Hood”

You blinked slowly, registering his words. Well, that certainly explained things. You even wondered how you didn’t see it sooner, but now that he mentioned it, it had been rather obvious. “... Congratulations?”

You could feel he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “That’s… That’s all?” He stuttered. “You’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You turned your head to look at him properly. “You saved my life so many times, I am not about to complain how you did it”

“But I did a lot of bad too,” He argued. “Some things that might change your opinion”

“You’re seriously asking me, who comes from a crime family, if I’m okay with you doing crimes?” You deadpanned. His face changed, as if he was reevaluating his entire argument.

“When you put it like this…” He trailed off, nodding. You could however see the relief in his eyes at your acceptance of his double identity. Especially with the kind of job he was doing here with you, you could only imagine how blurred the line in between the two personas must have been at times.

“Why did you tell me?” It was a gentle question, full of wonder as to what pushed him to reveal to you such an important, personal detail about himself. Your hand sneaked up and covered his still on your forearm.

“I thought you should know” He muttered back, his voice barely rising over the noise of the water hitting the shower’s floor. “You never asked what I did before, or how I took care of seven hired guns at the motel. I wasn’t sure if you just avoided it, or…”

“Don’t worry” You interrupted him softly. “Moral compasses are no issues with me”

His lips reached yours under a freezing rain, your bodies numb to anything but each other.

Day 25

A few days ago Jason received a call from Bruce.

The arrests had been made and the trial date had been set. As you had predicted, they tried to keep the relative information about it under wraps so you wouldn’t be aware it was happening. But fortunately, with Bruce’s quiet oversight of the process, he had managed to relay the details on time. You hadn’t been very far from Gotham when the news dropped, but you were still thankful for the heads up. It had given you time to plan your safe return into the boundaries of the city, staying hidden in another one of Jason’s safehouses until the day came for you to be a witness in the trial.

It was now in progress, it had just started some minutes ago. You were staying in an adjacent room that was guarded by people under Bruce’s paycheck, with Jason laying on a couch behind you, looking at his phone while you were getting ready. You were thankful that you had brought a second designer outfit with you, because you weren’t sure your gray t-shirt from Target with the oversized men’s pants you inherited on your first day with Jason would have looked very professional or credible. You did your makeup carefully with the basic products you had, then took a look at yourself in the mirror. You smothered the creases in your blouse and made sure the belt wasn’t twisted in the loops of your slacks, and sighed.

Jason stood up from the couch and walked to you, stopping behind you and sneaking an arm around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and placed a small kiss there. ��Am I an asshole for thinking you look better in a 30 bucks outfit?”

You laughed despite your nervous state. He was trying to distract you and you welcomed it. “Not more than usual, no”

He gasped at your rebuttal, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. “Is that what you really think of me?” He asked. “I’m hurt”

“Aw, come here” You pouted, turning your chin over your shoulder. You raised your arm to rest your hand on his cheek and gently pulled him down into a kiss. Your eyes fluttered close when his lips met yours, letting your relish in his comforting presence. You felt your heartbeat slow down as you sighed against his lips, wishing to remain there with him for another hour or so. Alas, the moment was broken shortly after when the door opened.

“They will soon be--oh”

You pulled back from the kiss, but Jason didn’t move away at the sound of Bruce’s voice behind you. You could feel he was annoyed at his adoptive father ruining the mood, but at least he wasn’t pissed like you had seen he could be on day one. That in itself was a relief.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all” Jason replied in a clearly sarcastic tone. You stifled back a laugh at the grimace he was doing to mock Bruce. “Perfect timing as usual”

Bruce didn’t answer that. He only closed the door behind him and headed for the desk, leaning back on it. Jason followed his movements in the mirror like a hawk.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you aren’t at each other’s throat anymore” He began, a cryptic smile on his lips. “But I hadn’t expected… Whatever this is”

It was Jason’s turn to sigh as he reluctantly parted away from you. He didn’t go far, however. He stayed by your side like another threat on your life could pop up at any moment. “Shocker”

“As I was saying” Bruce reprised, ignoring Jason’s side comment. “They will call you to the stand soon. I just wanted to check up on you and see if you had any questions or concerns before you go out”

“How solid is the case built?” You asked.

“It should hold” He nodded. “From what I’ve seen, it’s solid in front of a jury. Your testimony will have to be conclusive if we want to catch some Maroni members in the lot, but I’m confident you’ll be stellar”

You gave him a small smile. You knew your father would be there, glaring at you like you were the devil itself, but you repeated to yourself you could go through this. There was no way he would be as intimidating as Jason in the first few days, and you came out on the other side unscathered. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, and soon he would reap what he sowed.

“How secure will the witness booth be?” It was Jason who spoke this time, his eyes straight on Bruce like he was challenging him to give an answer that wouldn’t be good enough.

“The two guards in front of this room will accompany her in the courtroom” Bruce replied calmly. “There will also be one more guarding the door, and I supposed you won’t be far as well”

He only hummed in answer, but he seemed satisfied with this plan. Bruce checked his watch and stood up, hands in his pocket.

“It’s time”

You nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. You exited the room with Jason at your side and the guards behind you. You walked down a few hallways before you stopped in front of the witness booth door. You forced yourself to take deep breaths and visualize the end result. You could do this, you could do this.

“Keep your head high, stay confident” Jason muttered in your ear as the door opened in front of you. “You got this, princess”

With his last words of encouragement, you were brought into the courtroom.

Day 101

“... The sentence of the twelve convicted has dropped this morning on the order of judge Monroe, a little less than three months after the devastating trial that landed a blow on organized crime in Gotham. The twelve men will each serve a sentence ranging from twenty to forty years in a maximum security facility, on counts of attempted murders, first degree homicide, money laundering, drug trafficking and tax fraud. Amongst the convicted is Vitto Maroni, a notable figure in Gotham’s public life…”

You jumped when a loud pop dragged your attention away from the TV.

Jason was standing there with a proud grin, pouring foaming sparkling grape juice in two champagne flutes. You laughed as he handed you one, plopping next to you on the couch and clinking his glass on yours.

“Cheers to a victory,” He declared. “that wouldn’t have been possible without you”

“Don’t flatter me too much, give yourself some credit” You matched his grin. “You’re at least 20% responsible for this”

“Ah yes, my 20% contribution” He nodded thoughtfully. “Eighteen percent bullets shot, two percent bullets received I recall”

You laughed with him, drinking the fizzy beverage. He lifted his arm, and you crawled under it to snuggle on his side, careful not to spill anything. It had become a habit for you to end up one way or another in his arms, even after the trial ended. He had offered you to move in with him shortly after, when you had tried to give him the ten thousand dollars you had promised him after the trial. Not only had he refused to even look at it, but he gave you back the 5k you had already given him beforehand. He had insisted for you to keep it and invest in whatever you wanted to turn your life around like you wished.

He had been excited for you when you announced you would enroll in law school, saying your argumentative side would definitely come handy as an attorney.

“I’m proud of you”

You looked up at him to see a fond glint in his eyes, one that made your heart melt. For all of his rough edges, he was certainly very soft inside. All he wanted was for you to be safe and happy, and you couldn’t ask for someone better to start your new life with. You snuggled further into him as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his arm around you.

“Thank you for being there for me” You mumbled through his clothes. “It means a lot”

“I couldn’t walk away from you even if I wanted to, princess” He smiled against your hair. “You are so stuck with me”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere, then”

You changed the channel to a movie and spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, you wearing his t-shirt and shampoo and him holding you like a treasure.

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