#and he's like no you don't either. and they hug
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Player 001 (Young-il) x Reader
"Poor Little Y/N..."
My attraction to older men fuels the creativity within me to write
Oneshot - angst, death, blood, silent attraction, romantic feelings Masterlist
When Gi-hun decides to rebel against the guards and marches out of the player's room with his small army, you join them. Innocent, caring little Y/N, who's never held a gun in her life nor seen one before she ended up in these games, bravely sucks up her fear of dying and breaks the rules by exiting with the armed players. Among those are Young-il and other people you trust now.
You go because your fear of losing them and watching not a single one of them return is far worse than your instinctive fear of death.
Lovely, selfless Y/N who holds in her tears and forces her trembling hands to calm down while aiming her weapon at guards and pulling the trigger.
After leaving the stairs on which your group has been ambushed, you make it to a corridor when Gi-hun and Jung-bae leave you behind to advance further into this hellhole of a place.
You don't like splitting up but you can't stop them, so you stay with the group, continuing to help them through the gunfight. But then Young-il shouts that he is going after them and needs two people. Young-il, who's been a trusted member since you all met him after the first game. The man who pulled you into a room with him when the voice announced the number 2 during Round-And-Round, saving you without hesitation.
The man who insisted you take his pillow to hug at night because you couldn't fall asleep without the comfort of clutching something against you. Even though you kindly rejected his offer, he didn't take no for an answer and didn't leave the side of your bed until he was sure you accepted his gift and were as comfortable as you could be in this place.
So of course, you volunteer to go with him, as do two other men. He glances at them before his gaze rests on you a little too long, and you can see the gears of thought turning in his head. His expression isn't so stern and tense anymore and you watch his eyes soften as his head slowly leans back against the wall.
"No...not you, Y/N..." he says, his voice no longer loud, before waving the two men over to him and leaving with them. His words stung you deeply. You didn't understand why he said that to you. Oh, only if you knew he was going to betray the two good players he brought with him...
Brave and dedicated Y/N, who feels it's been to long since she's heard from either Gi-hun's team or Young-il's, so she runs after them, towards the control room. The sound of distant gunshots has your kind little heart racing with adrenaline. The urge to help and protect being stronger than your will to live.
What life would it be if you knew you could have helped, but didn't? What if they all died while you would cowardly wait and hide. You would be tortured by those thoughts forever.
Fast but scared Y/N, who sprints through the cold-coloured hallways and up levels of stairs, past dead guards and over puddles of blood because as long as you haven't found your friends' dead bodies, you have a reason to live and fight on.
Close gunshots no longer scare you. It could be your team firing them. But then you reach the first proper obstacle. The two players who went with Young-il were dead and their bodies pierced by bullets. The sight startles you, but you've seen this before. As long as it's not one of the other three, you can live with it. You have to. So you continue up the stairs, desperately wanting to find someone you know for your comfort and safety.
Shocked yet relieved Y/N who finds Young-il on the other side of the stairs, gun in hand but body slumped on the ground and tracksuit splattered with blood.
Such a good heart you have... immediately running to his side and checking up on him. He seems to be fine, though you can't be sure until you know where he's been hurt.
Silly you, that blood isn't his.
You don't even pay attention to the confused and unexpected look in his eyes. Oh, he did not expect anyone to find him now. He wasn't sure what to say or how to act anymore. Young-il thought his time of pretending to be Player 001 had come to an end. But he had to keep up the act in front of you right? Right?
He couldn't. It all happened so fast, he could just sit back and watch you hug him before you search for a wound to explain the bloodstains. Your face painted in great worry and distress. Your commitment to improving his wellbeing astounded him.
But the dream-like moment didn't last long and was canonically interrupted when footsteps were heard rushing down the other flight of stairs, towards the two of you.
Young-il had no reason to fear them. But you, who at this point were frightened by the very sight of them, made the alarm in your head start ringing. You abruptly turned around, facing them instead of the face you found great comfort in.
Young-il, who suddenly felt his heart drop deep into his gut when he realised the danger you could be in now.
Brave but teary-eyed Y/N, who sits on her heels in front of her friend, attempting to shield him while shouting at them to stop.
Young-il, who panics, wanting to move you behind him while attempting to wave the guards away, or at least not to open fire. But then it happens. The sound of a gunshot echoes through the cold walls and before either of you can process anything, the impact the bullet caused, had your body falling back. You land next to him, head supported against the wall and lock eyes with Young-il. A look of wide-eyed shock takes over his expression and he can only watch the consequences of his actions unfold before him.
Your trembling arms reach out for him, but not for help. You're still trying to save him, but your attempts are weak. Another harsh bang rings in both your ears and that does it. As the second bullet buries itself deep in your flesh, having pierced through vital organs, the light in your eyes vanishes and your body goes limp next to him.
Young-il can't move. You, the only person who's shown this kind of care for him in years, are now dead because of him and his actions. He made you trust him and now he had to watch you pay the price for his mistake. He should have never shown you any attention.
Poor little Y/N... your pretty body has failed you. But it was your heart that killed you.
Yes, I know. Tragic. Sorry. I'm sure you'll survive in other fics.
It's past midnight but fuck it I'm posting it.
#GOD I CAN'T GET HIM OUT OF MY MIND SOMEONE SAVE ME#young il#young il x reader#hwang in ho#hwang inho#hwang inho x reader#lee byung hun#the front man#frontman x you#frontman x reader#front man#squid game#squid game 2#squid game s2#seong gihun#player 001#player 456#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game x y/n#fanfiction
630 notes
·
View notes
Note
How would the lads boys react to a reader that is touch starved but is to shy to initiate physical contact (at the beginning) cuz she’s afraid of making them uncomfortable ?
Zayne doesn't initiate physical contact often either on account of just being a little too busy to be cuddly. He will hold your hand your or put his arm around your waist - showing you affection in socially acceptable ways because that's just how he shows affection. He isn't one to pull you into an intense kiss in the middle of the street - that's reserved for dark alleyways or the car on your way home.
He just thinks you're the same, not realising that it's a need you have. You'd have to communicate it with him or else he won't understand that you want him to initiate more contact. He doesn't mind holding you whenever he feels the need to or kissing your cheek and would assume that you'd do the same as he's never expressed not liking your attention.
Once you confide in him, telling him that you're just worried about making him uncomfortable he won't understand it at all. He reassures you that you'd never bother him, wanting you to reach out to him whenever you feel like you need him. It makes him feel needed by you as well, something he definitely appreciates because he wants you to find comfort in him.
Xavier can sense your unease because he sees how you always seem to hesitate whenever you touch him. He doesn't understand why you're acting like that but decides to continue observing just for now. When he determines it's a habit you have he'll ask you why you don't just touch him or hold him or kiss him whenever you want without seeming so nervous. He's worried he's somehow scared you off, made you feel like you shouldn't reach out to him for comfort.
You have to vehemently deny that statement, now feeling a little bad that you made Xavier think that he did something wrong. Thankfully, he's not going to dwell on it too long, telling you that he wants you to reach out and initiate physical contact whenever you feel the need to. He likes it when you're affectionate with him and wants you to do it more often, egging you on by responding with a little more enthusiasm than normal to reinforce the positive behaviour. You laugh a little at how obvious he's trying to make it, knowing he's doing it for your benefit, especially when he normally isn't this emotive in day to day things.
Rafayel is incredibly affectionate so for the most part, you don't find yourself needing too much of his attention since he usually gives all of it to you unprompted. The times you need to seek him out would be when he's deep into an art piece since he tends to forget everything. He'll still greet you with a kiss if you enter the room and hug you tightly to recharge his batteries but it's not nearly as much as he normally subjects you to, making you miss him a little bit more.
He notices you hanging around in the studio a little aimlessly, raising a brow at you. He decides to see what you're doing while he waits for his layers to dry, seeing you just sort of wandering until he calls you over. You practically bound over, looking at him expectantly. He doesn't get it quite yet, looking at you with mild confusion but also loving how adorably you're looking up at him.
It'll take him a second to realise you're waiting for him to shower you in attention the way he normally would, pulling you into his lap and letting you bury your face into his neck. He realises how much he's been neglecting you now, apologising and telling you that you can always make him give you attention. He loves you and would do anything for you, reinforcing the fact that he wants you to shower him in attention too whenever you feel like it. It makes him feel loved too and when you finally start doing it he'll overreact a little, practically melting at your touch because of his adoration for you.
Sylus can tell you have an aversion to initiating physical touch so he decides to make his cues for you more obvious. He'll look at you a little longer, opening an arm for you to crawl into his lap or come to his side to have a kiss pressed to your cheek. He doesn't mind initiating the physical contact this way because it clearly makes you more comfortable.
Over time with his patience you'll start to pick up on the fact that he's trying to acclimate you to initiating more physical contact. It works though, which you're glad about as you realise your nervousness around giving him physical affection is beginning to become far more manageable. He always leans into your touch whenever you initiate no matter where or what you're doing, thanking you in that smooth voice of his as he presses a kiss to your lips.
#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#zayne x reader#sylus x reader#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#l&ds rafayel x reader#l&ds zayne x reader#l&ds sylus x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#lads zayne x reader#lads rafayel x reader#lads xavier x reader#lads sylus x reader
764 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 12)
You woke up feeling uncomfortably warm. Not that it bothered you too much—it was the kind of warmth that made you feel too comfortable to move. Wrapped tightly in a cocoon of blankets, you realized you were stuck in someone’s arms.
And when you blinked your eyes open, all you saw was darkness.
The darkness of someone’s shirt.
You shifted slightly, trying to free yourself a little, but the grip was way too strong. You literally couldn't move, the blankets wrapped too tightly around your body. It made you squirm a bit to try and get free, but still, nothing. "Mhm..."
"Kyle, Johnny, let her go." Simon's low voice sounded muffled somewhere behind you, his heavy hand patting your covered body lightly. "I don't think humans enjoy nesting immobile like this."
Which, yeah, had some truth to it, considering you were still squirming a little, unconfortable with being stuck in place so firmly.
"It's for protection..." Johnny whined—mostly playfully—as he gave you one last squeeze before loosening his hold, pulling you up slightly so you could now see the rest of the room. The blanket that was wrapped around you not so constricting anymore. "Well, good morning, pup! Slept well?"
You blinked slowly, still feeling too sluggish to answer properly. Instead, you rubbed your eyes and face slowly with both hands, trying to wake up a bit. That didn’t stop Johnny, though, who immediately reached out to feel your forehead, checking your temperature. "Ah think it went down..." The Werewolf muttered, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration. It was harder for him to gauge your temperature when he ran much hotter than humans.
"Let me."
Gaz stepped in, leaning closer to feel your forehead, his feathers twitching slightly even when his body was otherwise totally still.
"You feel much better, fledgling." He announced, a small, gentle smile on his face.
"Great! This means we can play, right, pup?"
You glanced up at Johnny’s face nervously. He looked so eager, but you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to play yet... he was still way too big and scary to consider fighting with him.
“Johnny.” Simon reprimanded in his low voice as he stood from the nest. “What did we talk about before?”
"And ya think ah'll hurt her or somethin'? Ya don't knae human limits either, do ya?" Johnny didn’t yell, but his naturally loud tone rose slightly, and your body tensed instinctively between the soft blankets.
Were they fighting? Were they going to argue because of you?
"Humans are more delicate." Gaz chimed in with a neutral tone, stretching his wings as he stood up from the nest, still addressing Johnny. "Especially her, weak as she is after the flu...."
"I knaw ya worried, Ky. I knae, but I'm very careful. Ya knae that." Johnny replied, his voice softening as he moved up to hug Gaz's side gently, one hand smoothing down the feathers on his wing. "Besides, ya have to help me convince Ghostie—he’s such a hardass."
"Har har." Simon deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he bent down to lift you out of the nest. His heavy hands patted your pajamas gently to both fix your clothes and wake you up a bit.
Johnny grinned smugly, amused by Simon’s reaction, his wolf ears pressing down as he let go of Kyle to approach you.
"Ay, pup, do ya wanna see how hybrids spar?" Johnny asked with a mischievous grin as he looked down at you, stepping closer to Simon.
"Huh...?" You murmured, blinking up at him, caught off guard.
"Johnny—" Simon hissed, the raspy, airy sound of a Wraith’s warning making you jump back in surprise.
Only to be interrupted by Johnny tackling him down back into the nest, the Werewolf growling back as they tumbled on top of the blankets and pillows.
You gasped weakly in surprise, eyes wide as you watched them both fall to their knees, Johnny's bicep trying to get a hold of Simon's neck as he tried to push the bigger man down. Simon was clearly stronger though, as he held back the Werewolf's arm and pulled it off of him.
Gaz chuckled sharpily at his two mates' antics, shaking his head softly as he walked past you to go to the bathroom. The soft feathers of his wing brushed against your back reassuringly as he went.
You noticed Simon’s sclera starting to darken, and he let out a low hiss before tackling Johnny's side roughly, pinning him to the nest this time. Johnny growled back, his nails digging into Simon’s arms, in his compression shirt, which somehow resisted tearing under the sharp claws.
You could see both of their muscles bulging with how much strengh they were fighting eachother with.
“You two muppets, stop that.” Price’s voice came from the doorway. He entered the room, shaking his head in mild amusement at the scene. “You’re scaring the kid.”
Johnny took advantage of Simon’s brief distraction to push him off, immediately crawling over to you with a panting grin.
"See? Isnae it fun??" He asked, leaning on the edge of the nest with his arms crossed and his head resting on them. "Course ah'd go easy on ya, pup. Let you mess me up, aye?"
"Who called, Price?" Simon asked, straightening up and casually scratching his arm where Soap had sinked his nails in.
"Nikolai. He was with Kate and Rya." Price replied with a small, affectionate smile, a tinge of affection on his gruffy voice.
"Are they...?" Simon started to ask, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Price, trying to be subtle to avoid worring you in case he was wrong.
"Yes, they are paying us a visit soon." Price confirmed, his tone careful as he gauged your reaction.
"Who...?" You asked quietly, already feeling anxiety creep in at the mention of three new people.
"Bonnie lassie, it's okay, aye? It's just our pack!" Johnny said quickly, trying to reassure you as he got up to his knees to manage to look you better in the eye. "Our pack is very nice, aye? Nice people, very gentle! Ya'll love them!"
"Well, Rya, sure, but Nik and Kate...." Gaz emerged from the bathroom, looking refreshed and wearing a small, amused smile.
"Gaz."
"Kyle."
Both Ghost and Price immediatly scolded the Harpy in unison, their tones sharp but familiar. Gaz just laughed it off, shaking his head lightly.
"Kidding, kidding~"
"They are very nice people, I swear it, doll." John said quickly, his small smile softened by the warmth in his voice, though partially hidden by his beard. "I'll show you pictures after, okay?"
You hesitated, still feeling uncertain. Nervousness tightened your chest, but you nodded slowly. It wasn’t like refusing was an actual option. This wasn’t truly your house. Maybe the best you could do was what you'd done in some foster homes before that had frequent visitors: hide away from sight until they were gone.
Like a cat.
"Let's have breakfast, hun. And you need to take one more dose of medicine. Maybe some warm tea too, hm?" Kyle smiled, his wing brushing your back gently to nudge you toward the door.
You were still getting used to the mornings in their house. They were clearly early risers, with none of them showing the slightest hesitation about starting the day even if they just woke up. The ease with which they interacted, did chores, and moved around impressed you. It was a stark contrast to your usual sluggish mornings.
Not that you were grumpy in the mornings—just… slow. Sluggish. You often zoned out while sitting at the table, barely able to keep up with the energetic chatter and movement around you. They talked continuously, laughing loudly, getting up and sitting back down, picking up dishes, and cleaning as they went.
Truly impressive. You could never.
After taking a warm shower, brushing your teeth, and getting dressed in warm clothes, you found a new problem, though. Johnny was trailing you like a persistent puppy. His wide grin practically begged you to join him in whatever he had in mind.
"If you're going to play with her, take her downstairs to the gym." Simon suggested, clearly offering no help in discouraging Johnny's enthusiasm.
The small, betrayed look you shot Simon only made him chuckle softly as Johnny gently took your hand, leading you toward their indoor gym.
The gym was much bigger than you'd expected, equipped with far more gear than some gyms you'd seen before. The bright white lighting and clean concrete floors created a spacious and organized feel. Each piece of heavy equipment was well-spaced, making it seem as though every detail had been carefully planned.
You scanned the area, taking it all in, until Johnny tugged you toward a section lined with thick, black padded mats on the ground.
"I... don't know how to... fight...." You murmured, your brows knitting together in confusion as you looked up at Soap. It was almost a silent plea for clarification.
"I knae, lassie, don't ya worry! We're just playing!" He beamed at you, guiding you to the edge of the mats. "Here, take off your shoes, bonnie."
Both of you stepped onto the mats. You wore the new socks John had gotten for you—purple with white stars—that carefully protected your small feet, while Johnny went barefoot. His feet were large, with sharp toenails and thick fur along the tops, really what you would expect from a Werewolf.
"What... do you wanna play...?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper in the otherwise quiet gym. "Play fight...?"
"Ah like some wressling like anybody, mah kids also love it too! Ah'm sure we'll have some fun, wee lass!"
He smiled confidently, dropping to his knees. He had an eager and wolfish grin on his face, energy pratically radiating from him.
"Let's see what ya got!"
Part 11 /
#poly141#poly!141#cod#foster child!reader#teen!reader#kid!reader#simon ghost riley#john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#wraith!ghost#werewolf!soap#dragon!price#harpy!gaz#monster 141 au#monster au#cod mw2#cod mw3#tf 141#dad!price#dad!ghost#dad!soap#dad!gaz#hybrid 141#human!Reader#platonic!141
352 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rereading the Our Worlds at War tie-in again and God I miss their friendship every day
#they're such an underrated dynamic from this series#like throughout yj98 there's a definite distance between tim and everybody else since he can't reveal his identity to them#and cassie is definitely way closer to cissie and kon and bart than she is to him bc of that distance#and you can feel that awkwardness here in the way she apologizes to him immediately -- they're not at the level#where she can just shout and be mean to him and know it'll be fine -- not like she is with cissie or kon#but for tim -- i think he is at that level? like he wouldn't shout at her either but that's cause he's generally sweet to the yj girls#he doesn't butt heads with cassie like he does with the guys - but i also think she's someone he trusts to have his back in a very real way#and i think it's really telling that when everybody was confronting him about batman's contingencies it was CASSIE'S opinion#he asked for -- like she was the last person he thought would think that of him#obligatory 'the two people who died in his granny goodness nightmare were cassie and kon'#idk there's such an undercurrent of care even if they don't get as many 'this is my best friend' moments like some of the others#aghhhh#and the way cassie so clearly respects his opinion and is so worried he'll be mad at her when she replaces him as leader#the way she's the first one to hug him when he comes back to the team after he quits#oof. OOF. they're friends they're friends they LOVE EACH OTHER#sorry everyone i'm getting all up in my feelings again that they're the only ones left after infinite crisis#tim drake#cassie sandsmark#dc robin#wonder girl#young just us#young justice#yj98#dc comics#cassie tag#tim tag#gnome talks comics
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
sfw alphabet | carlos sainz
୨ৎ : synopsis : sfw a-z alphabet for carlos sainz ୨ৎ : word count : 1311
୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ
(a/n) : don't forget to like & reblog !! my requests are open!
a ⤖ affection (how affectionate is he? how often does he show affection?)
very affectionate in his own way—he shows love through actions more than words.
small, consistent gestures like holding your hand, forehead kisses, or brushing your hair out of your face.
he’s affectionate daily, but it feels natural rather than overbearing.
b ⤖ beginning (what would he be like as a bsf; how would the friendship start?)
as a best friend, he’d be the funny, charming guy who always makes you laugh.
your friendship would start with banter—he’d tease you a lot but in a way that makes you feel special.
he’d invite you to casual outings, and over time, you’d become one of his closest confidants.
c ⤖ cuddles (does he like to cuddle; how would he cuddle?)
loves to cuddle, especially after a long day or when he’s relaxed.
he’d be the type to wrap you up tightly, either spooning or with your head on his chest.
he’d stroke your back or play with your hair absentmindedly while you’re cuddling.
d ⤖ domestic (does he want to settle down; how good is he at cooking and cleaning?)
he definitely wants to settle down eventually, but he’s not in a rush—he prefers to focus on the present.
he’s decent at cooking, with a few spanish dishes he’s mastered, but cleaning isn’t his favorite thing.
he keeps his space tidy enough but would happily let you take the lead on organizing.
e ⤖ ending (if he had to break up with you; how would he do it?)
he’d be honest and straightforward, sitting you down for a heartfelt conversation.
carlos would ensure you understand his reasons and would never leave you with unresolved feelings.
he’d take the blame if necessary and try to leave things on as good terms as possible.
f ⤖ fiancé (how does he feel about commitment; would he want to get married quick?)
he’s serious about commitment and wouldn’t propose unless he was 100% sure.
carlos likes to take his time with big steps, so he wouldn’t rush into marriage, but once he’s ready, he’d be all in.
g ⤖ gentle (how gentle is he; emotionally + physically?)
very gentle both emotionally and physically.
emotionally, he listens and respects your feelings without judgment.
physically, his touches are soft and caring, always ensuring you’re comfortable.
h ⤖ hugs (does he like hugs; how often does he hug you; what are his hugs like?)
he loves hugs, especially spontaneous ones.
he’d hug you often—quick hugs throughout the day and longer ones when he misses you or needs comfort.
his hugs are warm, firm, and reassuring, like he’s anchoring you to him.
i ⤖ i love you (how fast does he say he loves you?)
he takes his time to say it, wanting it to feel meaningful and special.
once he’s sure of his feelings, he’d say it in a quiet, heartfelt moment—he’s not one to rush something so important.
j ⤖ jealousy (how jealous does he get; what does he do when he is jealous?)
he doesn’t get jealous easily, but when he does, it’s subtle—he might get a bit quieter or extra protective.
he’d never start an argument about it but might pull you closer or ask for reassurance indirectly.
k ⤖ kisses (what are his kisses like; where does he like to kiss you; where does he like to be kissed?)
his kisses are slow, intentional, and full of emotion—he doesn’t rush them.
loves kissing your forehead, cheeks, and neck, but his favorite is your lips.
he likes being kissed on his jawline or the corner of his mouth—it makes him smile every time.
l ⤖ little ones (how is he around children?)
he’s amazing with kids—playful and patient.
he’d joke around and play games but also knows how to be responsible when needed.
he’d love the idea of being a dad someday, but only when he feels ready.
m ⤖ morning (how are mornings spent with him?)
mornings with him are relaxed—he’s not in a rush to get out of bed.
he’d pull you closer for a cuddle before finally getting up, often sneaking in a quick kiss or two.
breakfast would either be something simple he made or an outing to his favorite café.
n ⤖ night (how are nights spent with him?)
nights with him are cozy and quiet, often spent watching a movie, sharing a glass of wine, or talking about your day.
he’d be attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated before bed.
o ⤖ open (when would he open up; does he say everything at once or does he wait to reveal himself?)
he takes time to open up, sharing pieces of himself little by little as trust builds.
he’d start with lighthearted stories but eventually share his deeper thoughts when he feels safe.
p ⤖ patience (how easily angered is he?)
he’s incredibly patient and not easily angered.
even when frustrated, he prefers to talk things out calmly rather than letting emotions take over.
q ⤖ quizzes (how much would he remember about you; does he remember every little detail; or is he forgetful?)
he remembers most things, especially the little quirks that make you happy or things you’ve mentioned in passing.
he’d surprise you by bringing up something you thought he’d forgotten.
r ⤖ remember (what is his favorite moment in the relationship?)
his favorite moment is probably something simple yet meaningful,
like the first time you laughed at one of his silly jokes or a quiet sunset shared together.
s ⤖ security (how protective is he; how does he protect you; how would he like to be protected?)
he’s naturally protective, but it’s not overbearing—it’s in the way he holds your hand in a crowd or checks in on you during tough times.
he likes knowing you feel safe with him and would appreciate emotional support when he needs it, too.
t ⤖ try (how much effort does he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
he puts a lot of effort into things that matter to you—he’s thoughtful and loves planning surprises.
dates are always creative, and he remembers important anniversaries without fail.
y ⤖ ugly (what are some of his bad habits?)
he can be stubborn, especially when he thinks he’s right.
sometimes, he’s so focused on his career or hobbies that he might forget to check in as often as you’d like.
v ⤖ vanity (how concerned is he with his looks?)
he’s definitely mindful of his appearance—he likes looking polished and put-together.
he spends time on his hair and style but isn’t overly vain about it.
w ⤖ whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)
he’d feel the absence deeply if you weren’t around—he values emotional connections and wouldn’t take your bond lightly.
x ⤖ xtra (random headcanon for him)
he loves sharing his culture with you—whether it’s introducing you to spanish music, cooking his favorite childhood dishes, or teaching you spanish phrases.
y ⤖ yuck (what are some things he wouldn't like; in general or in a partner?)
he dislikes dishonesty or a lack of trust in a relationship.
he’s also not a fan of overly negative attitudes or people who don’t respect his love for family.
z ⤖ zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)
he sleeps deeply and usually sprawls out, taking up more space than he realizes.
he loves falling asleep while holding you or at least having some part of him touching you, like your hand or leg.
2021-2024 © jungwnies on tumblr | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#carlos sainz x gf!reader#carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz smau#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x reader#x reader#formula one#formula one x reader#formula 1#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x you#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz jr x reader#carlos sainz smut#cs55 x y/n#cs55 imagine#cs55 x reader#cs55 x you#cs55 fic#cs55 smut#f1 fanfic#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies#jungwnies
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
So first, lemme introduce you to my f/o of the week: Tfa Bumblebee
(Also, I will be rping as my Shisa s/i)
Me.
He would start with playing a song that is calming and that I like. Music always calms me down. Once I've settled down a bit, he'd hug me and just sit there till I was okay and playing calming music.
No. He doesn't wear clothes period lol /nm /silly
Him. He's also the one who needs protection more often as my yokai powers keep me well protected. Even against decepticons.
Low light, a candle, some snacks, maybe some hot coco for me, and some warmed up motor oil for him if it's the cold months, some blankets, a plushy for me, and anime while we're all cuddled up.
He would beg me not to leave, and I would have to to protect him.
Yessir! We're two nerodivergent dumbasses ofc we would lol /lh
I'm the only one who gets sick, and it's constant comfort, pity, and cuddles, which my touch starved ass LOVES.
Obvi we can't have bio children but he's not entirely against it. But preferably WAY in the future when we're both more mature lol.
Probably to somewhere like an amusement park. (Fun fact: In the canon, Bumblebee has gone to an amusement park. Whether or not his 16 foot tall robot ass was or was not allowed on any ride remains unknown, but imagining him on a roller coaster is fun as hell to me.)
We both kinda do. Him more than me, but we can always tell when the other is upset.
Not often, but it does happen. Usually over something petty ngl. It usually goes down like this: yelling, petty insults, storming off, coming back to talk about it calmly, apologizing, and forgiveness. Works for us. Neither of us are ones to linger on things long.
Me. I have made it my life's mission to torment him lol (in a loving way ofc. I try not to take things too far and to apologize when I do).
Both of us match each other's energy level, and we both have a love for speed. He sees me as a "goddess" (his words, not mine), and I am deeply insecure, and he helps with that while he's very confident (downright full of himself in a fun way.) The problem arise when you realize we both have ADHD. I'm innatentive, and he's hyperactive. That makes for an interesting combo to say the least lol. Also, he's a yapper and sometimes, I just wanna be left alone. This has led to a few petty arguments.
Yep. We both do. I always have to kiss him if either of us is leaving.
Omg yes. Sometimes, he won't shut up. But, I knew what I was signing up for, so I can't complain too much, lol.
Me. I'm the flirt in the relationship, and I wear it like a badge of honor.
Me! I LOVE animals! I already have a hamster and a crow (the crow is my familiar). If I could, I'd have horses, dogs, cats, cows, goats, ducks, and millipedes. I do have to restrain myself a little but will get some of those one day lol.
I'm aight with it most of the time. He loves it. He loves people knowing I'm his.
Pika Girl by S3RL
Bee would, and I'd help Ratchet patch him up.
The song Bumblebee always reminds me of him (for obvious reasons). Fire reminds him of me (because of my dark flame magic).
Either one of us, really. I could do it by being flirty (and possibly explicit 😏). He gives me his puppy eyes, and I am not leaving, lol.
Neither of us ngl. I'm too ticklish, and he wouldn't feel shit if I tried.
Video games! I don't care much for playing, but I love watching. Especially Legend of Zelda games.
Mine's alcohol. His is video games.
Him. He's such a toddler when he's drunk (I think it's kinda cute ngl. Also, according to G1, cybertronians can get drunk /nm /gen)
We like the basics. Babe, honey, sweetie, sweetheart, the usually. Babe is the most common one between the two of us.
Him. I freak out a bit. I hate the sensation.
If he could choose my outfit, he'd probably choose my yellow plaid dress and white leggings (assuming it's for a night out. If we're staying home, he'd pick some sort of laundering)
Oh, we're both handsy. But he can be more explict with it. If he can do it discreetly, he'll try to squeeze my thigh (not to say I mind ofc).
Me! I like to tell SCP stories! Unfortunately, I'm dyslexic so I often stumble over my words lol.
Me again. I love to forage for edible mushrooms, and I make mean fried mushroom nuggets if I do say so myself. He tried to cook once and nearly burned down the whole base. Optimus banned him from ever doing that again so... yeah.
We both make dirty jokes, but when it comes to stories that make the other blush, I'm the reigning champ.
Me. I draw all the time and make jewelry as well.
I'm most likely to fire up the stove at ungodly hours because I'm hungry. He keeps me company, which I appreciate.
Me. I cuss like a sailor (and I'm not happy about it).
He's the one always wanting to try something new. I'm a bit vanilla ngl. I just don't think of some of the things he does.
Me. He'd be against for like 10 minutes before caving to the cuteness and helping me beg Optimus to let us keep it lol.
Neither of us ngl. He doesn't eat, and I'm a lightweight when it comes to food portions.
Me as a joke lol.
He likes sunny and I like rainy.
Either of us. Without hesitation.
I would, and he'd join. The most likely song to create such a situation is Classic by MKTO.
Yes we both can.
Hell yeah 100%. We match each other's freak lol.
No. Both of us are chronic oversharers.
Him. He's literally a car lol.
Him more than me. If I don't give him enough attention, he starts begging like a dog. He knows what to do for my affection.
Me ngl. Nothing too bad. Just something little like hiding the game he was playing or something like that.
For me, it's happy stims, hugs, and nuzzling my face into him while I hug him. For him, it's some kind of gesture, like taking me on a nature or something.
California vacay and checking out cool stores and universal.
Any swimming is skinny dipping for him. I wouldn't, tho. I hate feeling that exposed outside of the comfort of either of our rooms.
He is. I physically couldn't carry him, lol. Not to mention, I usually fall asleep while cuddling or during a drive.
He doesn't get it, but he's willing to stargaze for me.
I usually will just spread my legs while we're alone, and he jumps at the opportunity. He'll just gently brush his hand against my bits, and I'm good to go.
I'm serious with grocery shopping, and he throws random stuff into the cart.
Me ngl.
I'm top dommy mommy. He's bottom twink.
He does.
Ask for OTPs and Self Ships
copied from a now gone post and blog: original url https://glitter-and-gasoline-deactivate.tumblr.com/post/687208822931095552
TW: angst, suggestive content, etc.
Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?
What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?
Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)
Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?
Describe their cozy night in.
Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other?
Would they build a pillow fort together just because?
What happens if one of them gets sick?
What are their thoughts on having children?
Describe their first date.
Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?
Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?
Who’s the bigger tease?
How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?
Do they always say ‘i love you’ before leaving?
Can they stay up all night just talking?
Who’s more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?
How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?
How do they feel about PDA?
Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.
Who would get into a fight to defend the other’s honor? Who tends to the other’s wounds?
What reminds each of their partner?
Who’s more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?
Who’s more likely to give the other a massage?
Do they have any hobbies they share?
What are their vices?
Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?
What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?
Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out?
Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?
Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.)
Who’s the better story teller?
Who’s the better cook?
Who’s more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?
Who’s more artistic?
Who’s more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry?
Which is more likely to swear?
Who is more sexually experimental? Who’s more vanilla?
Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?
Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help?
Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?
What’s their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)
Who would give their life for the other without a second thought?
Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?
Can they fall asleep without the other?
Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves?
Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship?
Who’s the better driver?
Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?
who’s more likely to do something out of spite?
What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?
Describe their weekend getaway?
Would they ever go skinny dipping?
Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?
Do they like watching clouds or star gazing?
What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood?
Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?
Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?
Who tops? Who bottoms?
Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey hey!!
You can ignore this if you aren't comfortable but I was wondering if you have any ideas for how different eras Leon would react or handle drunk gf? Smth like been out with the girlies or asking him for a ride home? Go crazy!
Low key started thinking about it after a minor drunken injury weeks ago (all good!)
Hi Anon!
I'm sorry this late, I hope you are okay lmao! We have all been there at some point 👀...I've never fallen down some stairs or whatever
Hope you enjoy!!
Warnings: Fluff, Drunk!Reader,
Fem!Reader
RE2:
You went to a house party, Leon didn't feel like going though so he stayed behind
He trusted you not to do anything stupid and find your own way back.
That was until he got a call from you that you had been left by your friends and needed him to come and pick you up
He left immediately, pulling up to the location in his jeep with a smile at your state
Had to catch you as he helped you into the car as you tripped on the pavement
The entire ride you are chatting to him about all the gossip. He doesn't care who kissed who that night. Your smile and adorable giggles made his night
Caved when you asked for fast food - with the idea it will sober you up a little bit at least.
RE4R:
I feel like he would like a quieter life but when he meets you and you drag him around everywhere.
He doesn't complain he just goes with the flow, he'll have a few drinks etc to make the time more bearable but never as much as you.
It's cute though, how you'll go out onto the dance floor with a bunch of your friends all stumbling about together
Then you will stumble back over to him, placing a kiss that tasted like whatever you were drinking. A hug that was more you leaning on him than an actual hug
He never prompted you to come back, he was content observing you from the bar, his ass going numb from the bar stool.
When it is time to go home, he's dragging you to a cab. Your leaning on him chattering about whatever was on your mind
Thoughts going by so fast he can barely keep up with you. Changing topics like every 5 seconds
Infinite Darkness:
Encourages you to drink more, he's the type that's willing to be the sober one if he needs to be or at least only limiting himself to a few drinks to make sure you get back safely
He has to drag you out the bar towards the end of the night, your goodbye with the girls is dragging on far too long
The walk back is painful, your stumbling everywhere and so slow to the point he just beds his back and braces his knees
You're hard to carry on his back only because you find it so funny but eventually you pass out
When you do you are like dead weight but don't worry he can take it, he's fought things that are heavier than you
Damnation:
He's drunk with you lets be honest, you are both as bad as each other
Prefers to stay at home and drink so you will too
If you host a girls night he'll happily leave the room and sit in your bedroom so you have the space
The girls don't mind him being there they understand you barely see each other so they are fine with him joining in
When he does, he'll suggest things like board games or card games
For Christmas he'll get you loads of drinking games to play either together or with your friends
Finds it funny when you get the couple drinking games
RE6:
You woke him up from sleeping on the sofa when you called him to pick you up
He's fighting you for an answer as to where you are.
Eventually he just drives to the usual bars not hanging up of course
Finds you just aimlessly wandering down the streets. Pulls over and has to gently guide you into the car
Your moaning about how you have your boyfriend on the phone and he's coming to get you until you realize it's him
He'll give you his jacket in the car so you stay warm, after all the outfit your wearing wouldn't have kept you warm
Loves the gossip you collect and will let you ramble about. There's just something distracting about who kissed who compared to his usual thoughts or conversations with his friends
Vendetta:
The guy would be drunk with you, out and about with your friends whatever. He's with you
And considering he's drank a lot in the film before he starts doing anything I would say he's the type of drunk that you can't actually tell he is until you see the drink
So he's more helpful than you in going home
He's dragging you down the street, pulling you into his side so you stay close
If you fall over he's just sighing and laughing at you
It's almost like two toddlers walking down a street together, they don't know where they are going or how to get there but they do eventually
If you ask for his jacket he'll give it to you but he won't just do it on his own will. He's not really thinking straight
Death Island:
He's smart enough to turn on your phone location before you go out so when you do call him, he's there like instantly
He will sit you down on the bathroom counter and force you to tell him what your skin care routine is as he knows you'll be upset you didn't do it
Will eventually get you to write a step by step process and pin it to his bathroom mirror so he knows in advance
Probably just throws on one of his t shirts instead of finding your own clothes
Listens to your drunken talks until eventually you fall asleep cuddles into him
#~mads rambles#leon kennedy#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy x you#~mads~mail💌#leonkennedy#leon resident evil#leon s kennedy#resident evil leon#leon kennedy imagine
105 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii! I don't know if you do requests like this but pls lmk if not
Platonic request for Diasomnia with a half-fae reader who is Malleus's adoptive sister from way back (war times, adopted by Meleanor) but only Lilia knows them personally. They have been either missing or believed dead for centuries before showing up once again. Maybe their reaction?
(If you don't do the whole 4 then you can choose which ones you wanna do)
.。*♡゚ a/n: hope u enjoy!
.。*♡゚ Lilia’s ancient heart skips a beat when he sees you again, standing before him as if centuries had never passed. He had mourned your loss in silence, a secret he bore alone to spare Malleus any further heartbreak - a secret he spilled mindlessly when he engulfed in a bear hug, telling all about you to his children. To see you alive fills him with a rare and overwhelming joy, but also a darker need to keep you close this time, much closer than ever before. He becomes uncharacteristically protective, hovering at your side with a gentle smile, but his eyes carry a fierce determination. Lilia cannot lose you again — he will ensure that, even if it means bending fate itself.
.。*♡゚ For Malleus, your return is nothing short of a miracle. You, his cherished sister, thought lost to the cruel tides of war, are suddenly here before him. He’s overcome with emotion, his usual regal composure crumbling as he reaches for you with trembling hands. His attachment borders on obsessive as he refuses to let you leave his sight, terrified that this reunion might be some cruel illusion. He didn’t know he had a sibling but now he is absolutely on cloud nine. The centuries of grief and loneliness have left scars, and Malleus now clings to you with an intensity that borders on suffocating, though he justifies it as his love for the only sibling he has ever known.
.。*♡゚ Silver is cautious but deeply affected by your return. He knows what your presence means to Lilia and Malleus, and while he is reserved in expressing his feelings, he keeps a close watch over you. Though he doesn’t share the same history, Silver feels an instinctive duty to protect you, perhaps because you mean so much to the people who raised him. His quiet vigilance is almost overbearing, but his intentions are pure. Silver silently vows to never let harm come to you again, no matter the cost.
.。*♡゚ Sebek, on the other hand, is overwhelmed with awe and confusion. You, someone tied so closely to Malleus’s past, are now a living legend before his very eyes. His respect for you is instantaneous, but so is his zealous protectiveness. Sebek practically worships you as an extension of Malleus’s legacy and refuses to allow any slight or danger near you. His devotion might come off as abrasive, but it’s rooted in his reverence and the belief that your place is by Malleus’s side, where you will be safest and where he can ensure your security personally.
#.。*♡゚ Althea and alcestris#yandere twisted wonderland#tw yandere#twisted wonderland#yandere lilia vanrouge x reader#yandere lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia x mc#yandere lilia x reader#lilia x yuu#lilia x reader#malleus x mc#malleus x y/n#yandere malleus x reader#malleus x yuu#malleus x reader#yandere silver x mc#yandere silver x yuu#yandere silver x reader#silver x mc#silver x reader#yandere sebek x mc#sebek x mc#sebek x yuu#sebek x reader#yandere sebek x reader#diamsonia x reader#diamsonia#female reader#afab reader
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)
2: The Gala
Bruce doesn't really like parties, he's not prone to throwing them nor is he likely to go to them, especially with all the loudness, the music and...the people. Which is quite redundant to say as a party is made up of people--anyway, Bruce hates parties, more specifically: useless parties around people he either doesn't know or doesn't like-and for what? Just to watch and wait as the guests flock around him like birds to a lone breadcrumb? Just to wait on them to kiss his ass?
Plus, the omega doesn't need parties when he's got his hands full with a loud one named Jason, and in Bruce's unbiased opinion, his new pup is the best party he's ever witnessed.
An excited yip pulls Bruce from his brooding, the displeased scrunch of his brow smoothing out to look relaxed, his frown turning up to a happy smile at the sight of Jason posing in his new suit. "How do I look, B? Good you say? I know. Thank you." A humored rumble escapes from Bruce's throat, the sight of the pup's messily done tie causing the omega to frown and pull Jason closer to him. "You do look good, very good, great even. Your tie is just-" Bruce raises a brow at small teeth gently digging into his fingers, Jason growling in a way that he thinks is intimidating, but in fact is just adorably soft and squeaky...like a puppy trying to bark for the first time.
"But Alfred said I could tie it on my own. And I thought you said I looked good?"
At Jason's imploring look, Bruce just sighs softly in defeat. "Yes, very good, great even is what I said-"
Jason smiles and interrupts the omega again, nuzzling into the other's chest and looking up at him with satisfied baby blue's. "So...were you lying to me, mom?"
Those two words seem to do the trick for Bruce, the omega melting at the cute display and nuzzling his pup's head and neck. "No...I wasn't lying to you. You look really good, and I mean that. Your tie isn't bad at all-" he pulls away to look at the tie, beating down his instincts to clean the messy loops up in favor of smiling at it-"it just has character."
Jason gives a toothy smile and puffs his chest out proudly while patting the tie.
"His name is Rick Astley."
Bruce can't help but to chuckle in surprise at the name, "You mean...like the singer, Rick Astley?" At Jason's enthusiastic nod, he decides to give the pup what he wants and ask him why choose that name. "And of all the names you could choose, you chose Rick becaaaause?"
"Because I never gave up on this tie!"
Jason smiles happily at the genuine laugh he pulls from the usually stoic omega-his mom. "I thought you'd like that one! I've been working on that since I asked to tie this thing myself. I'll be here on Thursdays." Bruce covers his mouth with his hand to hide his smile, it's something he always feels embarrassed about, especially as he's used to fake smiling anyway...he never expected to laugh this much when adopting children. "So, you'll only be here on Thursdays? I thought you liked this place enough to stay with me?"
Even though it's just a joke, Jason can't help but to get defensive at the mere thought of leaving Bruce's side, the death of his biological mother still too fresh in his mind and causing him to hug onto the omega's leg tightly. "I love it! I feel safe here and no one can take me away!"
The slightly distressed scent coming from Jason causes Bruce to churr softly, the sound immediately causing the younger to slump in relief, the boy's eyes closing at the feeling of fingers gently gliding through his hair. "Shh~ I know, Jay, I know. No one could ever take you away...I wouldn't allow it, you hear me?" A small knock on his bedroom door causes Bruce to sigh softly, "We'll be right out, Alfred-" he stops to turn to Jason, fixing his pup's hair one last time and holding back a smile at the child's displeased grumble at being doted on-"Are you sure that you're ready? You don't have to go out there if you aren't comfortable yet."
It's been something gone unspoken all evening, but Bruce knows Jason is nervous to go out there to people who are nothing like him. Especially as they are the same people who would turn their noses up at the sight of kids like Jay, thinking they are better than them just cause they have lavish lives and the money to flaunt around whenever, that's something the omega knows his pup has been cautious about ever since he told the boy he's hosting an event.
And it's with humor and corny jokes that the pup has been hiding behind this whole time, all to not let Bruce know just how scared this is making him.
Jason-as per usual-just smiles wide and straightens his suit jacket with small, clammy hands. "What? You just want to keep me all to yourself? I was born ready, B. Let's go!" Bruce watches his pup slip out the door and immediately show Alfred his tie with pride, desiring to desperately answer, 'yes', he wants to keep his baby all to himself because he's selfish and desperate in the presence of Jason's mischievous grins and sincere laughs, that he's greedy for that piece of light in his life. So desperate that he wants to hoard it all to himself like a dragon with its most prized treasure.
Because, if Bruce feels like he doesn't deserve a son like Jason, he knows that none of those suck ups out there deserve to even be anywhere near Jason's innocence.
————°————
Lois looks at her wristwatch impatiently for the thousandth time in a row, causing Clark to sigh exasperatedly at his friend. "Lo, no matter how many times you glance at the time, it won't make it go by any faster."
The female omega clicks her tongue impatiently, "No duh! But maybe if I do, our very special host might appear quicker?" She glances at her watch once more, looking back up expectantly towards the staircase. "Has he arrived yet? Do you see him, Kent? Why is he even taking this long-" Clark opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Lois answering her own question-"I bet it's a power move, huh? He's doing this to show how we wait for him and not the other way around. Rich kids, am I right?"
Clark pushes up his glasses to distract himself from covering up the woman's mouth, his ears flushing in embarrassment on Lois's behalf at the socialites that look their way for her outburst.
"Shh! Be a little more quiet when...stating your opinion, maybe? And Mr. Wayne is only taking so long because he's introducing his new pup tonight, you know how protective he was about Richard Grayson. Why wouldn't he be about this one?" Lois softens at the mention of Bruce's eldest child, "Oh yeah...I forgot about that. Do you think this kid will be just as cute as the other one? I've heard some speculators say that this new pup looks similar to Bruce and Richard, they are convinced that our gracious omega host is the one actually giving birth to these pups himself and he just doesn't remember who the father is."
"Lois-" Clark grumbles in displeasure at the piece of gossip, doing his best to keep the alpha out of his tone-"Those are just rumors and gossip as far as you know--and, I don't want to hear about how 'I know his reputation'. Someone that dedicated to their kids surely doesn't sleep around that much."
At his friend's prolonged silence, he turns to look at her, blushing red at the raised brow he gets. "I-I mean...not saying that he can't not sleep around. I just-"
Lois snorts and pats Clark on the back, "Stop putting your foot in your mouth. You're up to the heel. And I get what you're saying, okay? I was only stating what I read and heard from different people, and despite how harsh I was with Bruce at first, after seeing him with his family...I don't believe those rumors anymore."
Clark rolls his eyes, "By: 'after seeing him with family,' do you actually mean, 'when I saw how the papers don't do his face justice?' That was when you started to not believe the rumors?"
Lois's impish smile is answer enough for Clark, the beta simply sighing the woman's name in exasperated fondness.
The two turn back to looking in anticipation at the staircase, Clark slowly frowning at realizing how casually Lois referred to Bruce, what is that about? But before he can turn to ask her about it, the crowd of reporters push ahead of them at the sight of Bruce Wayne, their cameras flashing and voices rising as they each try to get the omega's attention, Lois shouting above all of them towards Jimmy. "Push harder, Olsen, harder! Get the good spot!"
"Aaand I lost her." Clark watches as Lois claws her way to Jimmy's side, helping the timid beta make his way to the very front.
That's fine. Clark will patiently wait his turn until things are calmed down enough for him to approach Bruce without the fear of being pushed around...of course he can't be hurt, but the thought of accidentally hurting someone with his super strength stresses him out, so waiting the eager reporters out it is.
Luckily enough, the crowd seems to have learned some sort of lesson from the last incident when they startled the omega in the desperation to catch pictures of his new pup, the photographers standing at a decent enough distance as they snap their pic's, their eyes practically shining at the sight of the small pup holding onto Bruce's hand and curiously lifting his head to sniff out who exactly is in the crowd. Everyone grows quiet at the omega's protective glare being shot to the crowd, a tingle shooting down Clark's spine at the feeling of déjà vu the look gives him.
Bruce ignores the loud click of the cameras as he bends down to whisper to the pup, his voice a soothing rumble. "Jay, do you want me to introduce you?"
Jason squeezes onto the warm hand in his own cool one's, stepping out from Bruce's side with a wide smile, his hands lifting to rest on his hips as he uses all the confidence he witnesses his mom having to lift up his nose to the sky as if he owns the place, as if he belongs here around everyone else. "Nice to meetcha folks! I'm Jason Peter Todd!" The crowd goes silent before pushing forward slightly to ask Jason questions, the pup posing for the cameras while Bruce looks on in a mix of fondness, pride and worry, he still doesn't trust the media fully after all these years.
Vicki Vale manages to push herself forward at the same time Lois Lane does, the two glaring at each other before turning to smile at Jason sweetly.
"A word from you Mr. Todd?"
Lois taps her foot impatiently at Vicki beating her to the request, the boy turning to them and sniffing at them curiously. "They put ya in a suit and suddenly you are known as Mr-" the pup holds his hand up in a 'wait' gesture, tugging on his suit and clearing his throat-"Please, ladies, Mr was my father. Call me Jason...or cute, I wouldn't mind the latter from you beauties."
Vicki and Lois look at each other humored, both remembering their professionalism even though they wish to ask the boy exactly who his father is.
"Well, these beauties definitely wouldn't mind having a word with you-" Lois looks up at Bruce with a relaxed smile-"that is...if your mom wouldn't mind us asking you a couple questions? I'm sure...Ms. Vale and I can share you for a couple minutes? Again, if Mr. Wayne doesn't mind?" Jason looks excited at the thought of talking to them, a questioning call slipping from his throat to easily catch Bruce's attention, the omega responding with his own answering chirp. "Jason? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
The boy nods quickly, causing his waves to bounce wildly around on his head despite how many times Bruce has tried to smooth it down to something tameable. "They wanna ask me questions, can I go with them?"
Bruce stands next to his son's side, placing his hands gently on the small shoulders as he nods his head in greeting of the two women. "Vicki, Lois, it's nice to see you both here tonight-" his eyes rove over the women distrustfully, even though he knows he can trust these two with his pup, he still can't help the protective instincts that come about whenever anyone is near his kids-"I'm glad you could make it. You...want to ask him questions?"
Lois nods, "If you'll allow us to? I know you gotta make your rounds greeting everyone first, but, we were hoping to get a word from the new guy-" purple eyes search the room briefly before focusing back on Bruce-"Speaking of guys, where's Richard? The media would be eating him up about now, and I'm sure he could watch over Jason while we talk to him." The mention of the eldest Wayne causes Jason to pout, "He has these things called...responsibilities and obligations right now, for some reason? I asked him to come tonight but he's doing school stuff and 'friend' things right now."
Bruce chuckles at Jason quoting 'friends' and murmuring something about stupid older brother's, his hands gently fixing up the boy's hair as he speaks. "Well, Dickybird will be here for plenty future events, and do you really want him here right now? He would enjoy embarrassing you in front of everyone."
Jason blushes and bats Bruce's deft fingers away from his hair, "Yeah...just like you're doin' to me right now?" He grumbles in embarrassment, never knowing how to treat the omega's affections openly in front of other people, especially in this sort of crowd...he doesn't want them to think Bruce chose wrong when taking him off the streets, he just wants to prove how good he is and can be. "So, can I go with them or not? I can bring Alfie with me!" Bruce hesitates, sighing softly at the insistent tugging on his pant leg. "Pretty, pretty, pretty please!? With a Jason on top!"
Bruce raises an amused brow, "Why a Jason on top? You know it's usually cherry, right?"
The pup nods, "Cause you like me better than cherries. That's why."
Hm...he can't exactly argue with that. Bruce turns to find Alfred, holding back a shout as the alpha materializes from thin air right next to him, smiling softly at his son. "Don't worry, sir. I'll keep a good eye on the young Master for you, shall we head along?" Jason squeaks happily and kisses Bruce's hand in thanks before tugging Vicki and Lois along, loudly asking about how his tie looks as they take their conversation to the dessert table.
As soon as the small group leaves his side, Bruce inhales deeply, preparing himself for the vultures he already knows will flock to him like birds to a worm. Smiling charmingly at the cameras, even going so far as to blow a kiss at another.
"Mr. Wayne, what is your eldest son doing tonight!?"
"Mr. Wayne, how attached do you feel to tonights event!?"
"Mr. Wayne, who exactly are Richard and Jason's fathers? Are they biologically related or only half?"
"Mr. Wayne-"
Their voices start to blend together as the stupid questions start rolling in. Now that Lois and Vicki took the professionalism out the room with them, Bruce curses his fate as he's left with only the gossip hungry leeches, not headstrong people like Lane and Vale who actually care about their work and-
Bruce blinks away the spots in his vision from the bright flashes at the sight of a very tall, very imposing man-reporter, maybe?-that is patiently standing behind the rambunctious media.
Hm...his curiosity has been piqued.
Especially as something in his chest scratches in familiarity at the sight of this random reporter-or who he hopes is a reporter-and his lost puppy kind of look. There's something that is oddly endearing about this man and Bruce wants to find out why.
"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, but I would like to talk to..." Bruce draws out his words, making a show of his 'indecisiveness' as he looks over the group of reporters, biting his lip in thought as he evaluates them all, slowly reaching further back in the group until his eyes land on his target."You! The man with the-" he squints his eyes at the sight of elbow patches, scrunching his nose in distaste at the sight of elbow patches, who the crap does that anymore?-"elbow patches."
Clark adjusts his glasses on his face nervously, a habit he's taken to over the years that he finds oddly comforting when he feels embarrassed about something.
"Uh...me?"
Bruce smiles, flashing a bit of his omegan fangs as he does so at the nerves radiating from this man, looking more like a predator with its prey rather than the thoughtful host Clark thought he was. "Yes, you. Don't look around for someone to replace you, I want you and only you. What? Do you not want to talk to me?"
Clark flushes red at the words, and from the way Mr. Wayne's eyes seem to pierce into his soul with how...icy they look. Not in a bad way, but the color makes Clark feel like every inhale is like breathing in a breath mint, maybe and Altoid due to the strength of it? Ah! When did the omega get so close to him? Clark does his best not to breath in the shorter man's alluring scent, his face growing redder at the interested sniff the omega directs at him. "Well?"
Right.
Mr. Wayne is deserving of an explanation...I guess?
"O-Of course it'd be delightful to speak to you, Mr. Wayne. Do you have somewhere more-"
Bruce pulls away from him suddenly with a surprised look, shaking his head softly and messing with his shirt cuffs with an amused smirk stretching his lips. "Metropolis...I should've known that's where you'd be from. Though the people there are usually more forward, aren't they?"
Clark's eyebrows furrow at the comment, what's wrong with Metropolis? But before he can answer the question, Bruce cuts him off again.
"Like one Ms. Lois Lane, for example. Though-" icy blue eyes rake up and down the tall figure, his eyes stopping at the press badge clipped to the fashion disaster that is...Clark Kent's suit-"I detect a hint of farm boy in your tone? So, maybe not from Metropolis?" Bruce presses in closer to try and catch a scent from Clark, casting aside his growing disappointment as the man doesn't smell like alpha as he suspected, just mothballs and innocence.
"Smallville."
Bruce looks up at the beta, immediately regretting it as he's met with the deepest blue gaze he thinks he's ever seen on a person, do eyes even get to be that color?
It feels as if Bruce is looking into the night sky...not that he knows what that's like, living in Gotham and all. But, if he could, he could imagine it being like this, the reflection of light in Clark's eyes reminding him of twinkling stars up above.
Bruce looks away suddenly, cursing the heated feeling in his ears and spreading to his cheeks, he hopes it's not visible? Though with how pale he is...he can't imagine hiding the blush.
Well, this is stupid.
Bruce feels like abandoning his self proclaimed mission at his own reaction towards Clark, though...there really is something familiar about the other man, and he can't place his carefully manicured nails on it.
Fine. He supposes he can bring out the bit of professionalism Brucie Wayne shows sometimes, only because he has no desire to tease the poor beta anymore and definitely not because he's feeling shy. "Right...I've...never been to Smallville before. Why don't we talk about it more this way." Clark startles at the hand gently wrapping around his elbow and tugging him over to French doors that lead to a balcony, looking over his shoulder as the omega quickly searches for someone and scents the air before stepping outside.
Clark relaxes himself and allows his senses to spread out, his nose twitching frantically to smell exactly what Bruce did.
Expensive colognes, sweet smelling perfumes, natural scents coming from both alpha, beta and omegas alike-ah, there it is! Something slightly milky with a hint of baby oil and spice, a pup that's trying to develop their own scent but still in the puppy stage.
"Your son-Jason, that is-seems really sweet."
Bruce's scent turns pleased at the compliment, releasing Clark's arm and turning to give him a genuine smile that is all proud mama. "He is! And he's very smart too, he enjoys reading books that not even I read at his age, I'm very honored to be his parent." Clark feels himself softening up at the genuineness on the omega's face, at the love in his tone, that feeling from before growing stronger for some reason at the other's affection towards Jason.
"So, Smallville?"
Clark pushes up his glasses and smiles, "Yup! It's a small town, but it's peaceful and has genuine people in it, s'more than I could ever ask for."
At Bruce's nose scrunching up again-a little trait Clark is quickly noticing about the other that he's finding adorable-he can't help but to question the man. "What? Did I say something funny? I don't think growing up in Smallville is that funny, farms may stink to high Heavens, but they sure are fun and teach you the importance of hard work."
Bruce shakes his head and covers his twitching lips with his hand, "No...your accent slipped and is just...amusing? But in a cute way! You said 's'more', aren't s'mores those little snacks you squish between your fingers?"
Now it's Clark that looks at Bruce like he said the funniest thing. "Are you being serious? You've never heard of a s'more?"
The omega rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "Obviously I've heard of them. I wouldn't mention it if I've never heard of it, Kent, I was just making sure I had it right-" his brow twitches at the full blown smile the beta gives, coupled with a deep chuckle-"I don't think that's funny. If I can't laugh at your farm life, you can't laugh at me for not having a s'more. After all, it teaches you the importance of eating healthy foods."
The offended gasp escaping Clark's lips causes Bruce to look over his shoulder for what could have brought out that sound, the taller pulling out his recorder and waving it in his face.
"You've never eaten s'mores!? I think that's worse than never hearing of one! You mind if I interview you about this?" Bruce huffs at the defensive tone, his chest being tickled with humor at the other wanting to interview him about a snack he's never had before. "I don't think I mind? But, shouldn't you reporters be asking me about tonights event? Getting the reason for it and why I hosted this specific one? Don't your people usually poke at me about my kids?"
Clark sets down his recorder after switching it on, raising an inquiring brow at the omega. "Is me asking you questions about your family something that interests you? From what I gathered, you hated my people asking you about your pups, almost just as much as you get tired of hearing us ask you are you dating Batman."
At Bruce's irritated grumble, Clark smiles and gently guides the other closer to the tape recorder, not noticing just how much the simple touch effects the smaller man.
"Good evening Mr. Wayne, thank you for inviting me here tonight and accepting this interview. There have been some crazy rumors out there-" Clark has to pause to whisper to the other about not laughing, his heart pounding at the happy scent wafting from Bruce-"that you've never heard of s'mores. Would you care to clear those accusations up?"
Bruce sighs softly, not believing he's playing along with this, but clearing his throat and answering with all the seriousness he can muster into his voice.
"Yes, Mr. Kent, I would like to address those rumors about me...because they just aren't true. I have heard of s'mores before, it's just that I haven't ever eaten them." Clark hums, "Would you care to elaborate on why that is? Some people out there would think you never tasting it as worse than never knowing about it, what do you say to those people who could possibly feel that way?"
"Hm? Are one of those people from the Midwest? Cause if so, I'd tell him that there's worse things in this life than me not eating junk."
Clark's offended, 'hey', causes Bruce to grin. "Well, if there happened to be some lovely gentlemen from the Midwest who felt that way, I think he would politely disagree with you...even though you are technically right-" The word 'technically' causes Bruce to sputter, "What do you mean by that!? You just said you-I mean, this man 'technically' agrees with me by you stating I'm right. He's been around animal sh-poop for too long, it's causing him to spew crap from his mouth."
"Technically-" Clark smirks teasingly down at the smaller-"I said, technically. That's not out right admitting you are in the right."
Bruce narrows his eye at the taller man's beautifully smug smirk, "Do you not know what the word technically means? Technically: according to the facts or exact meaning of something; strictly. That's what that word means, so, 'technically' you and this Midwestern-ahem-gentleman are agreeing with me."
Clark freezes at that itching feeling returning to his mind, the scratching feeling of close familiarity this argument brings to him.
There's someone else he knows that takes simple jokes like this and turns them into mini battles, but-"Kent? Hellooo? Did a chicken escape the coop in there?"
Clark frowns at the omega shutting off his recorder, "Why did you turn that off? I was interviewing you."
Bruce holds the device in his hand, suddenly looking shy and embarrassed, his smile awkward as he fiddles with the metal tool. "Well, you were pausing for five seconds too long for an interview. And-" he glances away-"don't you think this was a bit silly of us? I'm not supposed to answer questions like this...no one even asks these kinds of things anyway, they're too...trivial for my work."
Clark steps closer to the omega, reaching out to grab the recorder from the shorter, finding himself daring enough to stay in the other's personal space while his hand rests in the smaller one. "Why is asking you about things you may enjoy trivial? Have you ever thought no one cares enough about the simple things you do? It makes you seem...more approachable, Mr. Wayne." Bruce feels like his heart is trying to fly out of his chest at how close they are, his cheeks growing a soft pink at the sincerity from the other. "I-I...I'm not usually supposed to be approachable, Mr. Kent. Not unless I want something."
Clark sucks in his gasp at how close Bruce's face is, it would be so easy to bend down and kiss those pink lips...but that wouldn't be professional, would it?
"And...what do you want from me, Mr. Wayne?"
At Bruce's shocked look, Clark gives a small smirk. "You didn't think I noticed you looking through the audience of determined reporters? I saw you already look at me before acting like you were indecisive about who you wanted to interview you. You were going to pick me the whole time."
Bruce purses his lips at being caught, though his inner omega is fascinated by how smart this potential mate random stranger is to notice such small details.
"What would Mr. Wayne say to the Midwestern man who wants to know what tonight's special host wants? Especially from a reporter trying to blend into the crowd."
Bruce can't help the entertained smile as-even though it's not turned on anymore-the recorder is pushed up to his mouth. "I...you were being still-" at the beta's intrigued look, he continues-"Do you know how rare it is to see someone who isn't trying to crawl all over someone else just to get the scoop on Bruce Thomas Wayne? You looked like the calm in the midst of a very bothersome, very loud storm, Mr. Kent. So...what I wanted was to...see who you are."
Clark stares down into icy blue eyes, being drawn further into the crystalline gaze, swallowing down the urge to call out to this wonderful omega with his own alpha and whispering softly instead.
"And did you find anything worth your time?"
Bruce's eyelashes flutter, "I did. You are a great conversationalist, Mr. Kent. If-if people from Smallville are anything like you, maybe it isn't so bad?"
The two seem to lean in closer to the other, their private bubble popping at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from inside. Bruce gasps and pulls away, both him and Clark blushing as the beta apologizes for being unprofessional, the whine being choked down the Wayne heir's throat from the loss of warmth as their hands separate.
Clark stands tall as the omega steps close again, his smile back to suave as he slips the recorder back into the suit pocket, his voice betraying how he actually feels as it's incredibly soft and hopeful. "You can keep this interview for yourself-" his finger taps the device now snug in Clark's front pocket-"And...maybe you can finish this interview at a better time? When I don't have to greet my guests, perhaps? I think I've kept them waiting on me long enough."
Lois's voice echoes in Clark's head about power moves and everything, his lips twitching up in amusement as he nods gently and leads the omega back inside.
————°————
Jason doesn't know how it's happened. One second he was being interviewed by two lovely women-his new friends-and then the next thing he knows he's somehow separated from them and doing his best to greet the guests while waiting for Bruce to return.
Luckily enough for him, there's been a nice group of high class attendees that waved him over, their sparkling jewelry catching the pups attention. "Looky here, ladies, we have a lovely gentleman in our midst. And isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Jason stands taller as the group of older women assess him, their lips stretching into fond smiles as they stare down at him. "My name is Margareta Hewley, young man, though I prefer Margaret, Marge or Greta cause my name sounds like the alcoholic drink-oh! I got off topic. I may have forgotten your name already...but what was it, Johnson?"
Jason goes to respond, but a middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair interrupts him with a frantic hand wave.
"No, no, no. You've got it all wrong, Greta. He said his name was Jensen, isn't that right, honey? My name is Dahlia Nugat, though it sounds a lot like the thing you put in-between chocolate bars."
The group of women burst out into a loud laughter, Jason growing increasingly amused by these women and how silly they are and how they make fun of their names. "Nice to meet you, my name is Jason actually-" the women 'ah' as he kindly corrects them, causing Jason to giggle-"But it's okay! Everyone makes mistakes."
A brunette reaches down to pinch at his cheek, "Well aren't you just so forgiving? It's very nice to see another one of Bruce's pups, he definitely has a type, doesn't he girls?"
Dahlia hums and leans closer to Jason, "What do you mean, Grace? This one has the most lovely shade of baby blue eyes I've ever seen." Grace sips at her champagne, nodding in agreement. "Of course he does! But that's not what I meant. He sure does pick a lot of strays up, doesn't he? Dearie, may I ask where you came from?" Jason swallows nervously as their attention is suddenly drawn to him, their smiles still open and inviting, like aunties scrambling to look at their favorite nephews new child. Though there's something in their gazes now that cause him to feel like he needs to stand a little taller as they question him, "Y-Yes ma'am. Bruce found-" the affronted gasps cause the pup to frown-"What? Did I...did I say something wrong?"
Greta waves a delicate hand. "Oh, of course not! Just...you were found? It makes it seem like you were lost, dear child. Did he not collect you from the adoption agency? He has lots of them due to his mother's bleeding heart-ah, rest her soul of course."
Jason furrows his brow in confusion at the term 'collect'. What is he? A trophy?
"Well, no...he found me on the streets. So, I guess I was kind of lost without him, though I knew my way around them!"
Greta, Dahlia and Grace share a look with each other. The sandy blonde looking him up and down before her eyes land on his tie, her smile returning at the sight of it. "Oh my! Look at this lovely tie, girls, isn't it cute? It has...character to it."
Grace raises a thin brow, "Is this character named Jason? The tie looks about as lost as he does."
It takes a moment for Jason to process the comment, the delivery of it was said so syrupy sweet and complimenting that he chirped happily, his mood souring slightly at the biting remark. "Hey! Bruce and Alfred said I could tie my own tie for tonight and even said it looked great."
Greta clears her throat to get her friends under control, "We only jest with you. This is how we...play around here, you're one of us now, aren't you?" At the boy's quick nodding, her smile returns full force. "There's a good pup! We are only recognizing you as a part of our...pack you could say. And sometimes packs tease each other in good fun, surely you must know this?" Jason looks down ashamed at the memories of his small, very broken pack consisting of just himself, his mom and his dad...there wasn't really any good fun in those times, so he doesn't know how it's supposed to work.
The women practically purr at the downcast look they receive for the specific question, itching forward in excitement as they practically smell the juicy story emanating off the child. "Jason? Why the long stare? Surely it isn't that hard to tell us if you had fun with your biological family."
The pup looks back up at Greta, his throat feeling tight as he tries his best to remain brave, neglecting the urge to look for Bruce.
"I...don't wanna talk about them. Y-You have any other questions?"
Dahlia croons softly at him, "Don't you fret your adorable little head. I'll just state the obvious here: you don't know how a pack works, do you?" She waits for the boy to shake his head, clicking her tongue when he does so. "Well there we have it! You don't know how a pack properly works, and we-as your kind new aunties-just want to make sure you know how it functions. And in packs, you share things about yourself with each other, I mean, you need trust in a family don't you?"
Jason bites his lip. That...is true, isn't it? And he has been working on being more open about his feelings, even the bad ones.
"Y-Yes, you do. But...I don't know h-how."
The three croon to him at the same time, drawing him in closer as they pat his head and back comfortingly.
"There, there, puppy. Being open and honest about these things is healthy and perfectly normal, even if it doesn't seem like it is. Since this question is bothering you so much, why don't we ask where your mommy found you?"
Jason inhales shakily, balling up his pants in his tiny fists as he calms himself. "U-Uhm...B found me in Crime Alley."
Grace looks at him in disgust, "Ew! Who would be in a place like that? And why would our Brucie visit there anyway? That place holds no good memories for him, his parents were murdered there."
Jason feels ashamed from the intense reaction, the womens faces scrunching and curling up in disgust at the place he was born in. I mean, he can understand the aversion to wanting to be there, but do they have to be so...mean about it? However, he remembers Dahlia saying that being honest is normal, even when it seems scary to be so. But since he can't be truthful about the way he was actually found, he'll share a different kind of truth instead.
So, here goes nothing.
"I was born in Crime Alley. B found me on accident when visiting to help the folks down there...and I may have stolen something of his, but-."
The three women gasp, Dahlia literally clutching at her pearls while the other two jump away from him, a sharpness to their eyes that wasn't there before. "You mean...you are a thief? Are you sure you didn't just slip into Bruce's car and by his kindness he kept you?" Dahlia hisses out at him. Grace sniffles and lifts her head high, as if he's no longer worthy enough to look at. "First it was a circus freak and now a street rat? Where does Bruce find such creatures?"
Greta pulls out a handkerchief and wipes her hands on it, her lips curled up in absolute revulsion towards him. "I can't believe I touched it. And here I held out hope that this one was something...more?"
The women continue to insult Jason, causing the boy's eyes to grow watery as he tries to remember to breathe, maybe even apologize for whatever he did. He doesn't want to get sent away if Bruce sees and realizes he didn't make a good impression, he wants to stay, he wants to have this family so badly that it hurts. Nothing is worse than being alone, he'd take as much pain as possible if it doesn't mean being left alone with nothing but himself, and just the thought alone is panic inducing. "I-I wanna...s-stay."
The women turn their gazes towards the pup, their faces morphing into one of fear as they try to quiet him down, their smiles returning as they try to get him to calm down and breath. Their heads swiveling left and right in search of Bruce.
"I-I don't wanna go!"
Jason cries loudly, a sob ripping its way out of his throat as he attempts to wipe away the tears.
His head lifts instinctively in search of Bruce, his nose sniffing frantically for the omega and a whine cutting through the jovial mood and replacing it with the scent of distressed pup. There's only one person he wants right now and he doesn't see him, the memories of his mom clutching onto a pill bottle even in her death assaulting Jason suddenly, why did she leave him? They were supposed to survive together but she left and now Bruce-
Bruce?
Where's Bruce?
Where's-"M-Mommy!"
————°————
Bruce and Clark smile awkwardly at each other as they walk inside, Lois immediately rushing over to them and complimenting her fellow omega for how beautiful Jason is. "Thank you! He really is beautiful, isn't he? But, you do know I didn't actually give birth to him? I can't take credit for creating his beauty."
Lois rolls her eyes and growls at another reporter trying to interrupt them, straightening her deep purple suit jacket when they rush off.
"Why does it matter? He seems like a very sweet kid...and you took that sweetness in and-as far as I'm concerned-cultivated his kindness into something even more. You're good for him and he's perfect for you. Especially since he grew up in Crime Alley, you wouldn't imagine there'd come any good from that, hm?" Bruce blinks in shock at the other omega, "Jason...he told you that himself? That he grew up there?" The woman nods proudly, "Both me and Vicki...but it was a really nice interview. Especially when Vicki was called elsewhere-" she digs around in her inner suit pocket before pulling out a notepad and tape recorder-"Oh yes! I jotted down some extra notes in here and recorded our interview with Alfred's permission. I know how protective you are and thought that you'd like to take a look and listen over these? Contact me when you know what you want to be shared with the public, if anything at all."
Bruce feels his chest warm at the thoughtfulness, surprising even himself as he hands the notepad and recorder back to Lois.
"I...trust that you'll use good judgement? You don't win a Pulitzer for no reason, Ms. Lane."
Purple eyes shine in victory, an omegan call escaping her as she thanks Bruce and immediately gets distracted at Jimmy passing by them looking at his camera, Lois immediately hounding him to show her the money shots.
"Well, I guess you have to go find your son now?"
Bruce looks up at Clark and nods, sniffing the air quickly and smirking at the smell of his pup being around the whole room. He wouldn't be surprised if the boy tried his hand at talking to everyone in the room by himself, but before he can turn to go find his son, the scent of slightly sour milk stings the omega's nose. An ear piercing cry causing Bruce to instinctively turn towards the sound of scared pup, not just any pup, but his own.
"M-Mommy!"
An aggressive snarl is torn from Bruce's throat as he shoves his way past the guests, ignoring the pained cries of anyone unlucky enough to be in the way as he forces his way to where his pup is, his eyes narrowing angrily at the sight of the three women who constantly give him headaches at these sort of events.
"Jason-" Bruce trills-"it's okay, baby, it's okay. Move!"
The three women bare their necks in apology as they slowly back away from the Wayne's pup, the scent of their fear stinking up the room and causing Jason to react worse than before, his small hands squeezing onto Bruce's shirt as he gasps around his words. "D-Dont...go! I'm sorry!" Bruce wraps his arms securely around Jason, the different scents of alpha, beta and omega overwhelming him. His arms wrap tighter around his child as he snarls at the flashing cameras, the room descending into chaos as the media wants good pictures and certain attendees are trying to send out their own soothing scents in response to the smell of a scared pup.
Jason whimpers as someone shouts an inappropriately timed question, that being the last straw for Bruce as his omega takes full control and growls at everyone, even going so far as to start hitting at people in his protective state.
Pretty sure someone's camera broke.
"Get the fuck out of my home!"
The flashes stop suddenly at the sound of a feral and protective omega mother, the crowd has further incentive to keep moving when they see Bruce secure his hold on Jason and squaring his shoulders in preparation to start fighting anyone and everyone still in his nest.
"Mommy, d-don't give me away. I promise t-that I'll be good."
Gentle hands rub at Jason's nape to try and soothe him, his inner omega restless even though there's no one else he senses in his home but Alfred, Bruce whimpering pitifully as he nuzzles the boy's neck. "But you are good, you're so good, Jay. Better than I could have ever asked or hoped for, who told you that you weren't?"
Jason just whimpers and tries to scent Bruce's neck, whining at the equally distressed scent of his mom.
Why can't Bruce calm down? He's failing as a mother. He's just supposed to stay calm long enough to comfort his baby and then he can be furious, but something in him is shaking, snarling and fighting against enemies that aren't even here. His eyes flickering around the room for threats, covering Jason in his scent so no one can find him and take him away-
A strong hand cupping the nape of his neck firmly, but not without kindness, causes Bruce to melt with a whine against his pup.
"D-Dad."
Alfred softly shushes both Bruce and Jason, giving a couple firm rubs to induce the omega's serotonin, gently rumbling to the two and scenting them to soothe not just them, but himself as well. "There you go, Bruce. Will you both be alright while I head into the kitchen to prepare some warm milk?"
Bruce nods and nuzzles Jason, cooing to the pup as he hiccups softly. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll go to my nest, okay?"
Bruce stands up with a slight stumble, petting Jason's fluffy hair softly as he rushes towards the steps, stopping in surprise at the sight of a frazzled Clark Kent, shocked at the fact he doesn't get too defensive at the other man's presence. "C-Clark? Why are you still here?" The beta looks down at Jason worriedly, sighing in relief at seeing the boy seems to be fine for the most part, though his nose twitches at the lingering scents of distress in the air. "I was helping to clear everyone out the house a-and I couldn't help but to stick behind even though I told myself to leave. I'm sorry, Bruce. I-I know that this is crossing some sort of line, but I just needed to see that you both were okay."
Bruce purrs softly in response to Jason shifting around with a whine, his omega not enjoying the fact his baby is feeling intimidated by the alpha, even if it is an alpha he feels comfortable with himself.
This time it's Clark that interrupts Bruce before he can say anything, "Look. Um...you're taking him upstairs, right? I-I don't want to go into your nest, but...can I...geeze-" he cards a shaky hand through his hair-"If it's allowed, may I escort you both to the room? I promise to stay in front so you can see me at all times." It looks like this situation isn't the only one to shake Bruce up, seems like it's startled the poor beta just as much as them.
Bruce slowly nods and gestures towards the staircase, watching cautiously as the man ascends the steps.
He continues to scent his pup with his now relaxed scent, gently massaging Jason's neck to relax the boy more while purring softly and peppering the sweaty face with kisses. "We're almost there, baby. You are so good, no one is taking you away from me, no one at all. You're mine and I'm your's cause we chose each other, and I would never trade that for anything."
Jason squeaks softly against the omega's neck, inhaling the familiar scent desperately as he slumps in Bruce's arms.
"Thank you Clark for making sure we got here safe. I'll just-"
The beta bends forward slowly to open the door for Bruce, his smile embarrassed for crossing into the omega's space again, his voice a quiet rumble as he speaks. "Your hands are full." Bruce hums in response, too tired to pay attention to the familiarity of this interaction as he quickly settles Jason down onto the bed, heading back to the open door and hesitating before closing it softly, a tired but thankful smile gracing his face as he whispers an extremely grateful, "Thank you."
The door softly clicks shut in Clark's face, his mouth hanging wide open as he realizes that Bruce Wayne is Batman.
————°————
It's late into the night, Bruce purring loudly at his pup's now milky and safe smelling scent. He can't find it in himself to sleep after tonight's events, so lying in bed cuddling with his baby it is.
A small, sleepy squeak escapes Jason, the boy twitching in his sleep, only being soothed by Bruce pressing kisses to his cheek and purring even louder. Why is it now that his mind chooses to think about the familiarity Clark Kent gives him, as if he's met him before? His sleep-addled brain sluggishly replaying every interaction between him in Clark, so much so that he starts to drift off to sleep.
However, the way the beta opened the door for him, stuck around for him and the pup, as well as announce that, 'your hands are full', is strangely uncanny to the way Superman stuck around for Richard and-Oh my gosh! Bruce opens his eyes quickly, any trace of exhaustion gone as he comes to the realization that Clark Kent is Superman.
"Hush, pup, I'm right here, it's okay." Bruce croons to the pup he disturbed in his surprised revelation, rubbing the boys back and cocooning the boy tighter into the blankets as he settles down to sleep.
(Here's the Link to Part 1: The Interview. I hope these stories are able to be enjoyed by someone? Either way, you guys are amazing. So please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛
P.S. The three rich hags views on Jason are not my own personal opinion of those in poverty or otherwise. They were written to be jerks/upsetting, so I hope I achieved my goal? I myself grew up in poverty and it sucks (absolutely would not wish it on my worst enemies), again, I just wrote them in the attempts of what rich people may think sometimes about those with less. Don't be like them guys! Be kind to everyone, okay? Alright, bye bye. 😘💛)
#dc comics#dcu#bruce wayne#bruce loves his kids#bruce wayne is a good dad#dc universe#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#barbara gordon#kate kane#superman#batman#dc robin#omegaverse#omega bruce wayne#alpha clark kent#superbat#fluff#fluff and feels
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞
(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)
First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.
What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.
honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍
lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙
my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍
I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞
now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️🩹
I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️🩹❤️🩹
this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.
And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.
everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3
It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓
a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖
Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕
I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞
Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.
This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞
(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)
Smoke Eater - Part 11
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.
Part 11: “Heart of the Home”
You sat very still.
Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.
You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.
But your life had never been quite that easy.
“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.
He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.
The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.
George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.
“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”
George thanked him.
And you sat very still.
A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.
His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.
“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”
You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.
Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.
Your fault.
When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.
“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.
“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”
George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.
“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”
“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”
George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.
You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.
“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.
“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.
He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”
“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.
“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.
You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”
“Is there something going on?” he pressed.
You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.
“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.
You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.
“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.
Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.
You could no longer be still.
Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.
Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.
He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.
“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.
“Normally?” you echoed.
“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”
“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.
George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”
At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.
Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”
“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.
Benton met the other man’s gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”
Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.
Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.
“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.”
You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”
“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.
“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.
Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”
And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.
He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”
“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”
Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.
“That you do, Lieutenant.”
You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.
Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.
“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.
“Come ‘ere a sec.”
Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.
“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.
George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.
“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”
Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.
Dean’s lips quirked.
“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”
Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”
George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.
She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.
“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”
Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”
He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.
Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.
Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.
Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.
“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”
“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”
“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”
“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”
“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”
Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”
“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”
Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.
“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.
Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.
So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.
Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.
However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.
While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.
“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.
“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.
“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.
It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.
On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast.
“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.
However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.
“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”
She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”
You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.
“Nothing.”
Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”
“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.
“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.
Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.
“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”
Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.
“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”
“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”
By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”
“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”
You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.
Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.
All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.
She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.
But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.
By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.
Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.
He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.
“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”
Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.
“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.
“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.
“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”
That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.
Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.
George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.
“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.
“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.
“Just some water,” the older man replied.
“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”
“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.
“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.
When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.
“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”
Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.
“Tell me,” he said.
“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”
Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.
That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.
But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…
He realized that he only had one answer.
“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.
George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”
And that night, an agreement was made.
In the morning, your grandfather was gone.
Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.
In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.
This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.
But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry.
He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.
So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.
And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.
“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.
He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.
Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”
You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.
“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”
Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”
You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.
“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”
Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.
“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”
You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.
“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.
Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.
Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.
“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.
You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.
“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”
“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part.
“I’m not leaving you with this.”
Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat.
“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.
For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes.
He’s not leaving you.
Not like everyone else in your life.
You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.
When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.
It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”
Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.
“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart.
“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”
You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.
Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.
Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.
He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.
Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he couldn’t leave you.
I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”
A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.
“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”
You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.
Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”
With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.
“That matters to me,” he told you.
You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”
Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.
“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”
You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand.
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying.”
AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.
But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.
Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙
Next Time:
The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.”
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.
Keep Reading: PART 12
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
#genuinely one of the loveliest reviews I've ever recieved 💞💞#reader appreciation#lovely mutuals#smoke eater feedback
563 notes
·
View notes
Text
ANOTHER POSSIBILITY
Pairings: alternative universe!Silco x Fem!Reader
Summary: You had lost everything but maybe the universe gave you a way to start over...or to escape?
Warnings: the alternative universe itself is already a spoiler😭, smut, 18+, obscenity, ride, love (why yes), a bit of angst
Notes: I don't know whether to cry or be satisfied with this
You had lost Silco, Vander, you had lost Jinx's affection and even before that Vi's. You had promised Felicia to take care of them and you had disappointed her, you had disappointed Connor and now you were left practically alone.
But maybe the arcane wanted to give you another chance, or so you hoped.
You had seen disrupted colours, fragments and then
dark.
You tried to open your eyes slowly and then blink them quickly to adjust your vision, you moved your arm to try to feel something and felt a smooth fabric, like a blanket. You opened your eyes completely and you were actually touching a blanket, it was warm as if someone had recently been there. You raised your torso and a ray of sunlight hit your face, you covered your eyes with your arm.
There was a window next to you where the sun filtered in lightly, strangely in Zaun the sun never filtered in but you didn't even remember that you were lying on a bed.
You slowly got up from the bed, also looking around. The room wasn't that bad, a fairly large wardrobe, some bedside tables on either side of the double bed...
...
...
DOUBLE BED!?
You got up completely from that bed. You don't think you've ever seen a double bed in your entire life in Zaun. You also felt a little cold in your legs, you looked down and only then noticed that you were wearing a very loose brownish shirt that served as your dress.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!"
You immediately went to open that closet and found clothes that were at least clean, or maybe too clean. Once you finished getting dressed you rushed towards the door and as soon as you crossed the threshold the chattering music entered your hearing range.
A fairly long corridor stretched out in front of you, as you walked towards the end, you saw other rooms but the closed doors prevented you from seeing the inside.
The closer you got, the louder the noises became. You couldn't believe what you saw beyond those stairs, you were at The Last Drop, Vander was on the balcony, alive!
So were his boys, Mylo and Claggor. You also saw some white dreadlocks in passing, Ekko and he was talking to Benzo.
You carefully walked down the stairs and looked around still in shock. At the end of the stairs, Vander noticed you, he greeted you with a wave of his hand "hey look who's woken up" laughed Vander pushing someone's shoulder, you didn't see him as Benzo covered your view.
"my beautiful wife" a voice said laughing. You breathed heavily as you recognized that voice that accompanied you in your life for years
Silco.
He came out from behind the balcony, he was completely different, his eye did not loom with terror, he had been cured, he no longer had a black-orange shade, the skin was not worn out and diseased. His eye was just woolly white. Her hair wasn't pulled back and she looked so....happy.
He came towards you smiling and didn't hesitate to kiss you on the lips, placing his hands on your cheeks. You were still standing there in shock and your eyes had become shiny, you were on the verge of starting to cry and not stopping "Silco..." you whispered. You put your lip between your teeth to keep from sobbing.
"everything's fine darling, did something happen?" he approached you worriedly and you placed your hands on his which were still on the face. You threw yourself at him, hugging him, your tears falling like crazy, wetting his leather vest. You felt his arms wrap around you.
The first and last man you had shared love with for more than seven years, he was alive, he was there and you were his… wife?
You and Silco had never talked about marriage, what you were was already fine with you, but hearing it had a different effect. "It's...it's okay" you smiled, tightening your hug and sniffling.
"are you sure?" he gently pulled you back and placed his hands on your cheeks to look at you.
You nodded as you smiled with tears still falling. You took his hand on your cheek and brought it to your lips to kiss it. "I'm just...very emotional today" you smiled, closing your eyes.
"Is everything okay here?" a male voice made you wake up from your thoughts, you raised your head from Silco's hand and saw Ekko arriving with...Jinx, the girl you had taken under your wing after the death of Felicia and Connor
"Powder and I saw you cry, are you okay?" Powder...you hadn't heard that name for seven years, here then she wasn't Jinx anymore, actually, she never was.
Silco moved to your side and placed a hand around your back. “everything is fine” you smiled as you wiped your eyes with one hand.
"are you sure you don't want something to drink, to cool you down" Powder's hand took yours slowly and you almost didn't start crying again. It was rare for Jinx to be so affectionate, especially in front of others, but you enjoyed those little moments.
You shook her hand and smiled "don't worry Jin-... Powder, really but thank you" she was confused at first, she noticed the fact that you were about to call her something else but she quickly let it go. he smiled back at you and nodded
"It's still early, I can take you back up, we'll come back here later" you turned to Silco as he smiled lovingly at you. "I don't want Vander to scold you for my whim" you looked at him seriously.
"if I'm gone for a few minutes he won't get angry, he knows how to manage customers" and he walked towards the stairs you had come down from just a few minutes before, with your hand in his.
You thought you couldn't live these moments with him, you had never blamed Jinx, you never would and you never will, but you missed him so much... and being next to him seemed like a fantasy.
It didn't take long to get back to the room you were in previously. You followed him with puppy dog eyes as he sat on the bed and you copied his actions.
You couldn't stop looking at him “are you sure everything is fine” his expression immediately turned worried and he placed a hand on your leg. “why it wouldn’t ” you smiled at him
"well, first let's spend a truly passionate night, and instead this morning I find you in tears" passionate eh?
"I can swear to you that everything is fine Silco" you hesitantly put a hand on his cheek and caressed it with your thumb. I took your wrist and caressed it.
“You know I wanted to ask you something last night but you seemed tired and I didn't ask you” he looked down and you looked at him questioningly. Quickly he looked up with a mischievous grin
"second round?"
…
…
you opened your mouth in shock and smiling and almost started laughing and rested your forehead against his "what an answer would that be" he laughed too. You raised your eyes to look at him “do you really think I would turn down a second round?” this man was incredible in every universe.
You looked at his lips for a few seconds and after a long time, you could finally feel his lips on yours again.
You brought him closer and closer until you put your arm around his neck. You asked yourself several times if all this was a game of your mind, if in reality all this wasn't true and was just the result of your desperation but a dream wasn't so vivid, so real.
Silco put his hands on your hips and pushed you gently with your back on the mattress, his hands caressed them lovingly and he continued his caresses while his hands went up until they were under your breasts.
You on the other hand tried to touch us all over, you didn't want it to end, you wanted to keep feeling it, you didn't want it to disappear again. "We're impatient, eh" Silco smiled a few millimeters from your lips.
If only you knew...
"you're too irresistible, what should I do" you laughed as you continued to give him lots of kisses on his cheeks. "never as much as you my love" he stopped to look at you for a few seconds and then began to kiss your still covered chest, his face slowly moved towards the low, continuing with his loving gesture as his hands went to carefully lift your shirt.
You finally felt his hot kisses on your skin and you panted slightly and raised your back slightly to meet his mouth.
Your hand on his hair to caress it as his kisses continued to the top of your pants and he looked at you before lowering them "You're so beautiful..." Silco gasped between kisses. His face moved up slightly to go over your already wet panties.
“were you just waiting for this moment?” he asked mischievously. you smiled looking at him.
You suddenly stood up from your seat, he followed you with his gaze. He couldn't help but look at you with loving eyes as you straddled him.
You moaned as you placed your hands on his cheeks lovingly and Silco placed his hands on your hips again. You didn't want to waste this moment.
Your hands slowly went down as I caressed Silco's stroke up to the button of his trousers, you looked at him shyly, as if it were the first time. You opened his trousers while you looked into each other's loving eyes, with a little hesitation you lowered your trousers and underwear just enough. With one hand you moved your soaked panties slightly and went over his now exposed cock.
You panted against his mouth as you felt his cock enter you, Silco couldn't help but moan at the sensation. The more you lowered yourself onto him, the more you tightened around him and gasped in front of his half-open mouth.
When he entered completely you couldn't stop moaning. After a few seconds to get used to that sensation again after some time, you began to move your hips towards Silco, he didn't hesitate to kiss you as you began to ride him.
His hands gradually went to your ass, squeezing it slightly. “fuck…” you panted into his mouth
You began to move faster, bouncing on his cock, the sounds of your skin slapping against each other began to resonate in the room along with your moans, the faster you went, the louder they got.
As you were almost close to coming, you buried your face in his neck, panting and starting to cry, but those were not only tears of pleasure, but also tears of joy.
Joy of being able to feel your loved one
Joy that this is not a dream.
You screamed louder than usual as you came screaming Silco's name as he murmured praises against your body and shortly after he came too.
You remained hugging each other as your tears continued to fall. Sweaty and wet you slowly moved your head away from his neck and looked at him "I love you Silco" you smiled crying.
He took your face in his hands and rested his forehead against yours "I love you too darling"
you don't know if all this would end but you really hoped not
#silco x reader#silco#alternative universe!silco#alternate universe#arcane x reader#arcane s2#vander
110 notes
·
View notes
Note
(I HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER ❤️❤️)
I have a terrible idea, and I need to tell someone... imagine cuddling with Daisuke for the first time. Everything is fine, you lie on him, hugging him gently. when you suddenly feel his erection in his pants( idk how to explain it more, so iykyk) . He is so embrassed about it, But both of you don't comment on it (if you want you can change it). (You dont need to make NSFW, its your choice) You dont need to write this or anything, if you are uncomfortable, just leave it here
KISSES and have a nice day/ night 😘❤️
ans: okay, I'm not sure how exactly to write this, but hell yeah! 😼 (Btw yeah, I kinda got straight to the point aha)
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
(read anon's question for summary)
(NSFW)
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• You and daisuke were cuddling after a long day, your leg over his, his face pressed against your chest.
•❀• You hear him mumble something incoherent, and he shifts uncomfortably.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"You okay?"
"Uhm.. hah, yeah. I'm fine."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• He tries to cross his legs slightly, but it just seems to make whatever he's hiding even worse.
•❀• He looks up at you, so you tilt your head, obviously confused.
•❀• He shifts a bit more, and you feel something against your thigh, You look down. He's crazy, isn't he?
•❀• He knows you know, but he doesn't want to say anything just yet. He squeezes his eyes, hoping you won't say anything either.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Daisuke? Are you..? Um, I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about."
"W-Well, yeah!.. It's all your fault though, and it's a natural reaction so..!"
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• His face gets completely red with blush, and he looks incredibly embarrassed and nervous.
•❀• He avoids your gaze, not wanting to continue the conversation. But you decided to speak up.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Do you wanna.. take care of it?"
"Wha—... Huh?!"
"I mean, we were about to go to bed, but I can like.. stroke you off, y'know?"
"...Yeah, okay.. I'd like that.."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• He tries to hide his excitement, but he's basically shaking. He sits up in the bed, and so do you.
•❀• You tug on his pants, he gasps slightly but lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down, leaving him in only his boxers.
•❀• He looks at you, pleading, as you take his boxers off too, the fabric simply brushing against him is a little bit too much to handle.
•❀• Once they're all the way off, his erection springs free. He gently bites his lip, fighting the urge to just do it himself.
•❀• You wrap your hand around his hardened member, before slowly beginning to stroke him.
•❀• He lets out a shaky breath as your hand envelopes him, the feeling of your touch sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. He lets his head fall back against the pillows, his eyes fluttering shut as you start to move your hand.
•❀• His hips buck up involuntarily as you continue, your touch driving him insane. His breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with each pant as he moans softly.
•❀• He grips the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tries to hold back his release. His eyes snap open and he looks up at you, a pleading look in his eyes.
•❀• He can barely form words right now, but the desperation in his expression is clear. He’s so close to finishing already, but he wants to hold out a little longer.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"You're almost finished, already?"
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• He nods eagerly, unable to speak as he struggles to keep himself from coming. His body is trembling with the effort, his breaths coming in short gasps. He can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, the tension building with every stroke of your hand. You decide to speed it up.
•❀• A strangled moan escapes his lips as you quicken your pace, his hips bucking up into your hand. He’s completely lost in the sensation, his mind clouded with pleasure. He can feel his climax approaching rapidly now, and he knows he won’t be able to hold it back much longer.
•❀• With a final gasp, he reaches his limit, his whole body tensing as he spills into your hand. He lets out a loud, drawn-out moan, his back arching off the bed as he rides out his orgasm. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes still squeezed shut.
•❀• You smirk slightly, proud of yourself, as he grabs onto your hand, exhausted.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
"Mmph.. thank you.."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
•❀• He mumbles against your chest, clearly tired from everything that just happened.
•❀• You rest your leg over his, and gently massage and scratch his scalp as you both return to cuddling.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
I might do a Q&A, idk, I'm so bored for some reason. But this was really fun to write, thanks anon!! 🎀
#mouthwashing game#daisuke mouthwashing#daisuke mw#daisuke x reader#mouthwashing#spotify#hard#erectionnotice#couple cuddling
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
see im gonna be real w u but i dont think that the ppl pitting arya and sansa against each other have siblings bc 1. theyre kids and 2. the idea that sansa is some big bully abusing arya at every turn is just silly. ppl oft use game of thrones arya I as an example but all we see in it is an insecure 9 year old girl comparing herself to her 11y/o sister whos seemingly more talented in whats expected of her! and its fine its nothing new for there to be jealousy but sansa isnt unkind to arya there either. arya spends the first few paragraphs sulking, upset that in arya's eyes, sansa got better treatment or was more lucky, be it at being better at needlework, being more lady like or even getting to sit with the handsome prince during the earlier feast.
"We were talking about the prince," Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little fat one. Naturally. "Joffrey likes your sister," Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfell's steward and Sansa's dearest friend. "He told her she was very beautiful." "He's going to marry her," little Beth said dreamily, hugging herself. "Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm." Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment. "Beth, you shouldn't make up stories," Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her hair to take the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. "What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?" "Jon says he looks like a girl," Arya said. [...] Septa Mordane raised her eyes. She had a bony face, sharp eyes, and a thin lipless mouth made for frowning. It was frowning now. "What are you talking about, children?" "Our half brother," Sansa corrected, soft and precise. She smiled for the septa. "Arya and I were remarking on how pleased we were to have the princess with us today," she said. Septa Mordane nodded. "Indeed. A great honor for us all." Princess Myrcella smiled uncertainly at the compliment. "Arya, why aren't you at work?" the septa asked. She rose to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. "Let me see your stitches." Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa's attention. "Here," she said, surrendering up her work.
this isnt an example of sansa mistreating arya either, its just a child being insecure and being upset at her sister because its the easiest thing to do in a kid's mind! ppl oft forget that its not just cersei whos an unreliable narrator, its arya and every one else too and just because she thinks one thing doesnt make it true
#agot#asoiaf#valyrianscrolls#sansa stark#its not even sansa attracting septa mordane in the first place. its arya's loud comment that did. she isnt exactly Peak reliable narrator#arya stark#starklings#house stark#anyways. started the reread. going pretty great#point is that at the end of the day both sansa and arya are kids. unreliable and traumatized ones at that. feeling some resentment towards#ur sibling doesnt mean that they bully u or vice versa it just means that ur siblings#chaos reads#a song of ice and fire
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
a christopher eccleston appreciation post
i will never say this enough because i don't know enough words, nor do i think such words exist, that could even begin to summarize how much i love christopher eccleston, but... i love christopher eccleston. and, more importantly, i have a deep-rooted respect for that man.
i started doctor who as, let's be honest, a sci-fi hater, forcing myself because i was obsessed with david tennant, and i was kind of dreading the first series because of this. but i was dead wrong.
he broadened my mind, gave me so many laughs, and so many cries, and i'm not the first to say that whenever eccleston is on the screen you just can't take your eyes off him, even when he's not supposed to be the main focus of the scene.
the way he can switch from silly goose to traumatized soldier in a matter of seconds will never cease to amaze me. or how he can play with both like he's on a swing by balancing it out with sarcasm?
i think whoever doesn't give him the title role in their shows/films is either an idiot, or they know the main character just isn't always the best.
i think it's downright idiotic and shameful that he gets rejected from ever playing some shakespeare just because of his northern accent (they're just posh elitist pos). now that he's older, and that times are evolving (i mean, i hope the world of theater is vibing with this evolution, but i'm not delusional), i hope we get to see him portray a character like leontes in winter's tale cause i know he'd be absolutely perfect for the role, and who better than shakespeare (this character especially, with his nuances and highs and lows and breakdowns and breakthroughs) to match acting like his?
saw an article where eccleston talked about how the moment he really knew he wanted to be an actor was when he had to wear mascara for a play, and had enjoyed it. i think he talks about it in his autobiography too (you should read it, btw, it's frankly affordable, and he happens to be a marvelous writer as well).
eccleston knows he is mistakenly type-cast, because of his background, as macho men and tough blokes in general. he's aware that it's kind of a big part of his culture. again, he talks about it i think in the very first chapter, how for instance he used to dress up as james bond, the pinnacle of "masculinity", which i think was a disguise in the metaphorical sense of the term, to mask his delicacy and femininity (or at least, that's my interpretation of it).
in his biography, eccleston talks about the differences between him and his dad, ronnie: he was surprised, as a child, whenever his father's affection manifested as a kiss or a hug, cause that usually wasn't his father's way of doing things. he compares it to how he, in contrast, has the habit of kissing his own son, albert, and telling him he loves him.
you can find it as well in how he talks about his anorexia, his body dysmorphia and, i think we can call it that, gender dysphoria. he's from a time when those concepts didn't even exist, they weren't a thing to the public eye. my father and my step-father, both feminine men in their own way, and both around eccleston's age, both told me about the struggle that it represented, not being the stereotype of the macho tough guy, and being surrounded by boys who didn't struggle with that issue. it made my dad a junkie, my stepdad a depressive artist, and, apparently, it made eccleston an anorexic actor.
i think it takes a lot of courage for people that age (the boomer generation as we call them), especially men, from whom we expect toxic masculinity, masculinity pushed to an extreme, to be able to openly call it out and dissect it into what it is: a ridiculous standard. but to be a PUBLIC FIGURE, in his 60s, and still find the strength to express it? damn. takes guts, i think.
most of us on this website, we're babies. most of us are at most in their thirties. the millenials and the gen z, and now the gen alpha, we take that for granted. or get offended and scandalized that being able to express oneself isn't yet a basic standard.
but then, i talk to my mum, and i realize that she had to stray from her catholic, sexist education, she had to make up her own mind about things in order for me to be born a free spirit. and that's just considering my mum's a cishet.
christopher eccleston expressed in other words that he doesn't fully consider himself to be cisgendered. i have mad respect for the way he talks about it, and for even talking about it at all.
then, there's his honesty. the more interviews i watch, the more it impresses me. he knows honesty goes hand in hand with dignity. i'm sorry but i'm tired of people who are nice all the time. you never know when they're being honest, and maybe some of them are, who knows. but i'm not stupid enough to think that so many people are just pure sunshine all the time (respect for tennant for lashing out publically about transphobia, i think he passed the test).
eccleston? he knows how to be both brutally honest and yet respectful at the same time. no ukulele apology from this man and holy fuck, it feels good!
i've seen him call russel t davies out for his lack of professionalism on the set of doctor who, and then list him amongst the great writers he's worked with. which makes me want to believe eccleston's side, because, if you're always either too polite, or too full of spite about eveything, who's to say you're not the problem? i've got way less trouble believing you if you can stay unbiased about a person you're having beef with than if suddenly everything said person does turns into shit just cause you don't like them. that's just maturity and wisdom.
one last thing i love about eccleston is that he is interested in other people's lives. there's a critic by marcus berkmann in his book that perfectly expresses my point: "you know what to expect from the autobiographies of most actors, i think: anecdotes, charm, more than mild self-satisfaction and faux-modesty by the bucketload. but christopher eccleston is not most actors".
and that's it. watch him in interviews and at convention panels, where he lets his younger co-stars speak before himself, and seizes the occasion when journalists ask him questions that are meant to make him talk about himself to praise his writers and other actors instead.
read his autobiography, which is both a love letter to his dad and a big let's-be-honest about the struggles of growing up poor and his personal struggles, because he thinks raising awareness is just as important as protecting himself.
look at his instagram posts where he unabashedly disses the monarchy and stays true and loyal to his background even after getting a taste of money. and his other posts where he shares his love for acorns and spending time with his kids.
i've seen him nearly break down in shame and regret on television for having stolen a kid's crisps in primary school. and not trying to find lame excuses for his behaviour. no ukulele apology, just facts, just christopher eccleston showing us what masculinity in its purest, most beautiful form should be about
#christopher eccleston#i love the bones of you#doctor who#ninth doctor#9th doctor#the leftovers#matt jamison#death and the compass#red scharlach#the a word#maurice scott#hearts and minds#drew mackenzie#crackers#david bilborough#our friends in the north#nicky hutchinson#shallow grave#david stephens#hillsborough#trevor hicks#jude#jude fawley#macbeth
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Gilbert] Love's Cleaning Time - Part 4
Part 3
Gilbert: What's wrong, little rabbit?
I take Gilbert's hand, which was resting on my cheek, and held it in mine.
Emma: Even so, thank you very much.
Gilbert: ......
Gilbert: You're not listening to me at all, are you?
Emma: This is my thanks after having listened to you.
Gilbert: You're forgiving my evil deeds.
Emma: …… It may be an outrageous thing to say, but……
Emma: The important thing is, "how do I perceive it now", isn't it?
I let go of his cold hand and pick up the report that Gilbert was holding. The detailed contents might be frightening to some people.
(Even I wouldn't have been able to accept this so readily in the past.)
Emma: If Michael hadn't been there at that time, I would have been attacked by bandits.
Emma: At best, I would have only had my books stolen, but at worst, I could have died.
Emma: Whatever the circumstances, Gil saved me.
Emma: Whether that was out of malice or good will …… it's up to me to decide.
Gilbert: .....
Emma: More than anything, I've come to like Gil now.
Emma: It might be difficult for me to see it as malice like I used to.
(Gilbert occasionally warns me like this so that I can keep a normal perspective.)
(…… I think he's a fair person.)
Gilbert: Haha, you poor thing.
Gilbert: But…… I'm glad you don't hate me.
(……!)
Gilbert gently brushed my hand away and stood up.
Gilbert: Let's stop chatting for now.
Gilbert: Emma, you can throw that away.
Emma: Even though it was kept so carefully?
Gilbert: Yeah, I don't need it anymore.
Gilbert: The poor little rabbit is now being directly monitored by the villain.
(That's true, too.)
(...)
(Even if I become his fiancée, I won't be able to understand everything about Gilbert's heart.)
(But…… I feel like I understand what he's thinking at this moment.)
Emma: Gil.
I put the report on the shelf and hug Gilbert with enough force to bump into him.
Gilbert: What is it?
Emma: Just to be clear, I'm not forgiving you for everything.
Emma: I sometimes can't understand Gil's evil deeds…… At those times, I'll properly object to them.
Gilbert: Oh, really?
Emma: Have you forgotten? I'm watching you so that you don't do anything bad to Rhodolite.
Emma: I'm not the only one being watched by Gil.
(I will discern my own good and evil without being swayed by Gilbert.)
(That's…… because I think that's what Gilbert expects of me the most.)
Emma: So, don't worry.
Emma: Even if I love you, I'm not that blind.
His blood-colored eyes wavered slightly––and then gently softened.
Gilbert: …… You're too much.
Gilbert: You see right through everything.
His cold hand caressed my cheek again, and his lips were sealed by the shadow that fell.
Gilbert: I was finally getting in the mood to restart cleaning.
Emma: ……Nn……Gil?
The villain didn't stop pecking at my lips, and he sensually stroked my back from my waist.
Gilbert: I don't care anymore.
Emma: ……!……The cleaning……
Gilbert: You want me to do it properly?
Emma: No……
(If he touches me like this……I don't care anymore either.)
Emma: Can we do it……tomorrow……?
The breath that escaped my lips was hot, and my body was already pleading for the cleaning to end.
Gilbert: Hahaha, you're a bad girl too, aren't you?
Emma: ……But Gil, you were the one who asked for it first.
Gilbert: Yeah, but……
Gilbert: It's your responsibility for responding to it.
-
I catch my breath as it bounces on the jet-black sheets.
Gilbert, who has me pinned down, continues to caress my skin with tantalizingly gentle touches, having taken all my clothes off.
His fingertips, which avoided touching the places I wanted to be touched and only moved around the surrounding areas, had a clear malice to them.
(...It's embarrassing to say it directly...)
Emma: Come to think of it……
Emma: Is Michael still in Rhodolite?
Gilbert: Yeah, he is.
Emma: Why…… Ah
His fingers graze the peaks of my chest, and the ache deep in my stomach intensifies.
Gilbert: Oh no, who said you were the only one I had Michael keep an eye on?
Gilbert: Actually, I asked him to watch someone else too.
(Someone else……)
(……Could it be––)
Gilbert: Haha, little rabbit. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?
Emma: Eh……?
Gilbert: Thinking about another man while I'm right here in front of you.
Emma: ……The only thing I did on purpose was bring up Michael.
(I thought if I made him jealous, he might touch me more properly.)
Gilbert: Is that so? But it doesn't matter.
Gilbert: Why can you smile so gently while thinking about another man?
(I……was smiling.)
(But that's because––……)
Emma: ...Ah! Ah, nn—
Suddenly, the fingers that had been so gentle strongly stimulated a sensitive spot.
Emma: Haa... Wait... Aaa...Nn...
My body seemed to be more sensitive than usual, and honey immediately flowed between my legs.
Gilbert: That's terrible. I'm hurt.
Overwhelmed by a pleasure beyond imagination––
Just before I lost consciousness, the hand full of malice finally let go.
Gilbert: So, what exactly was that smile of yours about?
Gilbert: Depending on your answer……you understand, right?
He flicked my nipple with his finger, and a gasp escaped my lips.
Emma: Tha—Nn...That's not...true...
I force my ragged breathing to calm down and capture Gilbert's face in my blurred vision.
Emma: ...Gil is...
Emma: I just...thought you were a worrywart...
(He's extremely soft on people he's let his guard down around once.)
(...Though that sweetness can sometimes turn into malice––)
Gilbert: It can't be helped. Because in this world...
Gilbert: There are so many things that need to be cleaned up.
.
.
.
FIN
If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to leave me a tip here or buy me a coffee through the "Leave a Tip" button on my navigation bar!
#gilbert von obsidian#gilbert von obsidian translations#ikemen prince translations#ikepri translations#ikepri jp#loves cleaning time story event#loves cleaning time
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
TreeHouse Chapter 4
"A gentleman always pays for the date."
Summary: Sienne gets more than she wants from her date with Matt
"The halls of high school may echo with love, but the future is rarely paved with it."
⚠️This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of abuse.⚠️
Please Read At Your Own Risk.
Sienna's POV:
The basketball game tonight was on the outside courts because the weather was decent. Julia insisted I wear something super cute to impress Matt. I let Julia dress me up, unsure of what would impress Matt. She put me in the most uncomfortable skirt. The skin-tight long-sleeve shirt wasn't as bad, but the amount of cleavage it showed was unnecessary. The best part about the outfit was my black high-top boots. They were comfortable, and they were actually mine.
"I don't see Matt."
"Nick, either." AK was also looking.
"Are you sure you're not -"
"Everyone knows Nick is one inch taller than Matt." Both Julia and I stopped and looked at him with the same expression.
"Everyone?" We both said in unison.
"He's the oldest too. Did you know that?" He ignored our judgment.
"Anyways... Keep looking for Matt." We went back to searching for him. He seemed to be all about me, but Julia was all about finding him. He was cute, and Nick was cute. I didn't know either of them well, though, other than whatever rumors were spread around school that I chose to listen to.
"There they are." The pair walking in was like a movie scene. Almost everyone was watching them, and Nick slowly threw his head back in laughter while Matt had a hot smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The only thing missing was if people were taking pictures and flashing lights on them.
"Matt!" Julia was quick to get his attention in our direction. He head nodded at her, and she gasped.
"Julia, he's not a celebrity." Once he saw me standing in the bleachers next to her, he held up a single finger. I couldn't help but smile. He and Nick stood in the middle of the entryway with the concessions, talking for a minute, and then Nick headed to the stand while Matt headed towards us.
"Hey Sienna," he immediately grabbed me in a hug. His smell was fresh and clean, and I wondered what soap he used in the shower. I quickly reprimanded myself for being weird and broke the hug apart. "You look amazing," he looked me up and down. I suddenly felt self-conscious.
"Thank you." I blushed and looked down slightly, letting my hair cover it.
"Where is Nick?" AK wasn't subtle about his concerns.
"He is getting us all snacks. Might need help carrying them." Matt pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.
"Peace." AK started walking down the bleachers. The three of us sat down.
"So, you like basketball?" I asked Matt, trying to figure out something to talk about.
"Yeah, it's not bad. I could never play, though. I'm the worst." I giggled at his joke.
"I'm pretty good maybe I could teach you a thing or two?" I tried to be flirty. Having thee Matthew Sturniolo's attention was the best way to gain popularity in school. Not that I wanted it or cared but I knew Julia was hoping for a seat at the cool kids table so to speak.
"You play?" He leaned back to look at me.
"Yeah, I play a lot of sports." It was true. Whether I was good or not was a different story. I was pretty much mediocre at all of them except swimming. I have won a few awards from competitions at our school and outside organizations where I competed. Swimming was a freeing feeling. Being under the water, everything stopped.
"That's pretty cool." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I saw Julia start to freak out. Nick and AK came back, holding everything haphazardly.
"Drinks. Candy. Popcorn." They started dishing it all out.
"You didn't have to buy us anything." I started saying.
"Of course I did. A gentleman always pays for the date." He smirked that intoxicating smirk.
"Date?" Julia whispered behind us while looking at AK.
"Thank you, Matt. That's so sweet of you." I glared at her since she wasn't very quiet. The game started, and Matt paid more attention to that than me. I wasn't complaining, though; his attention made me nervous. He stood up and cheered when someone's shot went in. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." I stood up and looked behind me at Julia. She nodded and stood up to come with me.
"He is so into you." She gushed as soon as we were further down the bleachers.
"I know, but... why?" I asked, holding the door for her.
"You are so cool and hot. Maybe Ms. Williams did you a favor." She had a smug grin.
"I still hate you for that."
"Hey, Matt doesn't seem to mind," she winked as she came out of the stall. As we washed our hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. I just didn't feel like myself. I felt like I was forcing it, whatever it was. "Coming?" she asked by the door. I looked down at the water running over my fingers, with no visible soap left.
"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute." I forced a smile. I dried my hands and scrolled ConNext. I let out a sigh and smiled at myself one time in the mirror. Matt was so attractive that there was no point in being with me, but we would see how the night went. I pushed the door open and started walking down between the brick wall and the gate around the sports complex.
"Hey." Matt approached me, meeting me in the middle.
"Hi." I smiled and flipped my hair over my shoulder.
"You enjoying the game?" He looked fidgety.
"Uh, yeah." I lied. I didn't really enjoy watching it as much as I did playing it, and I couldn't stop wondering why he was suddenly showing interest in me the whole time, so I was just distracted all around. "What about you?"
"It's good. Wish we could talk more." He leaned back against the wall.
"About what?" I asked, skeptical.
"Just in general. I wanna talk about anything." He shrugged.
"Okay, let's start with why you are suddenly interested in me." The words left my mouth before I could make them sound flirtatious.
"Oh." He straightened up. "I guess I always kinda had eyes for you. You're really nice, and I like your style." He looked me up and down and wasn't afraid to make it obvious. I felt my cheeks get hot at his actions.
"Really?" I asked, a little shocked. I had no idea I had been on his radar for a while or even at all.
"Of course." He stepped closer to me and tugged me into him. "Why not?" He whispered. He pulled me into him, and I didn't hesitate. I felt his lips press on mine, and I melted into the touch. He was definitely experienced. His motions were swift and sensual. He moaned a little as his long fingers worked their way down into my skirt from my hips.
"No." I pushed back a little. He gripped me and pulled me in. Gripping me tightly.
"No?" He asked, looking into my eyes. His eyes gave me that sense of comfort again, but I knew my own personal boundaries.
"N.. no..." I stuttered. I was sure of my answer but unsure of his harsh actions holding me still.
"Come on." He started sucking on my neck, and his fingers played with my underwear band.
"No, Matt." I pushed myself off of him again. I made it free from his grip and marched back to Julia. Matt wasn't far behind me.
"Hey." She was unaware of what had happened. Matt awkwardly put his arm around my shoulder again, holding me close to him. I didn't want to ruin the mood for the rest of the game, so I didn't say anything then, but I planned on telling her everything tomorrow.
A/N I accidentally posted Chapter 3 instead of Drafting it like I wanted to and then @chriss-slutt was so so sweet tonight I decided why not just post the next chapter for her too?
TreeHouse Taglist:
@trevorsgodmother @mintsturniolo @wysmols @chriss-slutt @middlepartmatt @blushsturns @shadowtheism @fratbrochrisgf @forgottxen
This fic is TAGLIST SPECIFIC, meaning in order to be tagged in this, you HAVE to be on the list. I'm doing this because of TRIGGERS.
REBLOG INSTRUCTIONS: I don't mind just please stress the trigger warnings so no backlash comes back to me!
Enjoy Matt and Si cooking 😏😘
#victim!chris treehouse#victim!chris x nessie#victim!chris#nessie treehouse#nessie#treehouse#juno characters ✨#christopher owen#chris sturniolo abuse#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo au#christopher owen sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo
33 notes
·
View notes