#just another normal Tuesday night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!!

Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?

If you get round to this then thank you!!!

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

“But you’re Spider-Man.”��

Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?”

You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life?

He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt.

“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly.

You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.”

“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.”

“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.”

Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.”

You just nibble your lip.

“Is that something you worry about?”

You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.”

He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web.

He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?”

“Last night.”

He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”

“Last Tuesday.”

“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.”

“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?”

“Okay,” he says immediately.

Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together.

“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.”

“You’d have to stop sometimes–”

He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.”

“Just every other.”

“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.

“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you.

It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.”

You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”

“How do you know?”

“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.”

“You will be.”

You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.”

“I do.”

“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.”

“Are you tired?” he asks.

You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.”

He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.”

You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.”

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brotherblaze · 1 month ago

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the big freeze — jason todd

summary: Jason appears at your door in the middle of the night. Who are you to turn him away?

cw: implied claustrophobia

wc: 1,5k

note: you ever get stuck in an elevator and realize 'oh this is a closed metal box hanging in the air on the 13th floor' and then it takes the combined efforts of 3 people on different floors to get you out bc the wrong elevator keeps opening?

The TV switches to a commercial break featuring an ad for a late night hotline just as your phone buzzes. You reach for the remote to mute it and bring your phone to your ear. No sane person calls you at this hour. Which only leaves…

“Yes?”

“Can you…” there’s a pause on Jason’s end, and you use the moment to glance at the time. 1:38 AM. Yeah, not a sane time, arguably not a completely sane person, if judging by what his family gets up to back in Gotham. “I’m downstairs.”

“I gave you a keycard and the code for the security system.”

He sighs and the sound rattles in your ear. “I know, I—I’ve been waiting for someone to come by for like 20 minutes.”

“Well, in their defense, it’s way past 1AM.” You slide your feet into your slippers and stand, turning the TV off as you go. “Normal people are usually asleep at these times. On Tuesdays, no less.”

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?”

“I’m an occasional insomniac.” You press the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you grab the black sweater draped over the back of your couch.

Still, the hallway is cold, all exposed brick and bright overhead lights. The chill bites at your cheeks and invades through the soft wool of your sweater. Jason’s sweater? It’s hard to tell anymore; so many of his things are at your place and so many of your things are at his place. The elevator arrives with a quiet ding. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step inside, avoiding the large wet patch on the red carpet.

You don’t let the call drop, but neither of you are speaking anymore, either. The numbers on the small screen on the elevator wall count down.

Jason is standing by the large automatic doors at the entrance of the building. He has his leather jacket slung over his arm. You can faintly make out droplets from the rain still clinging to the surface of the leather. There—just as he spots you—a smile blooms on his face, almost boyish, as he cuts across the empty foyer in long, near-silent footsteps. He wraps his arms around your waist, presses his face into the crook of your neck. His hair is damp and you feel the water slide under your collar. The tip of his nose is cold, resting over your pulse. His wet jacket presses against your side, soaking your sweater.

Instead of the chill from the fall rain, there’s a steady warmth simmering beneath Jason’s skin. It spurs from his chest and spreads to his extremities, arms wound tightly around your body, to his fingertips pressing under your sweater and into your skin.

You nearly yelp at how cold his fingers are.

“Hey.”

“We gotta take two steps to the left — my left,” you clarify. Jason does not unwind himself from around you, but he does take a step to the side and then another until you can reach the elevator keypad. You tap your keycard against the sensor and hit the button for your floor. The elevator doors drag closed and it begins its ascent.

Jason’s pulse jumps and his grip around you tightens. You don’t say anything, don’t pry him off or tell him to get his shit together—instead, you place a hand on the back of his head, curl the rain-damp strands of hair around your fingers. Jason’s lips part involuntarily in a silent sigh.

“Need a haircut, eh, bub?”

He chuckles, barely audible over the jingle playing from the elevator speakers. “What if I buzz it all off? Military style.”

You make a disgusted sound in the back of your throat.

The elevator slides to a stop, the lock mechanism clicks into place, and the doors open.

“We’re here,” you say, voice soft and light.

Jason takes a long breath in, inhaling your strawberry-scented body lotion. He’s the one that got it for you as one of your many gifts last Christmas (thank you, Babs, for being his sniff-tester) and it makes him giddy to know you still use it. He untangles himself from you, not fully, though, and guides you towards your apartment, an arm around your waist.

He toes off his boots and hangs his jacket in its usual place as you re-arm the security system.

“You should really start arming that thing even if you go down for pizza or something,” he says and bends over to pick up the black ball of fur rubbing against his leg. “Hi, hi, hi, yes, hi to you, too,” he tells your cat, nuzzling his face into her fur. He looks up at you, raises a brow when you open your mouth to say ‘this is Metropolis, nothing bad happens here,’ because you’ve had this exchange twice now. “Just saying, if I was 9 again and I knew someone left their apartment full of stuff you could easily pawn unlocked…”

You sigh. “Okay. I’ll remember to do that.”

Because for Jason, it isn’t about the things in your apartment, not really.

“Thank you.”

You retreat into your bedroom and Jason carries your cat around like she’s a baby as he laps around your apartment. He stops at the tall windows in the living room and starts pointing out Metropolis landmarks as if said cat hasn’t been living in Metropolis longer than he has.

When you return, a pair of gray sweatpants and one of his shirts in hand, he’s telling your cat about how ‘Aunt Lois deserved that Pulitzer prize so much more than uncle Clark’.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something…”

“Oh, no, no, just reinstating how Clark got a Pulitzer before Lois even though she’s a much better writer than he is.”

“Right.” You hold out the change of clothes to him. “I got you a new toothbrush; the other one was getting old.”

“Thank you.” Jason accepts the change of clothes and beelines it towards the bathroom to change, your cat still in his arms.

Once he emerges (after quite loudly announcing to your cat how one should brush their teeth), his damp clothes left in the dryer to run first thing in the morning, you’re already nestled between the sheets. There’s an extra pillow and duvet spread out next to you. Jason releases your cat, who skitters to her bed on the windowsill to watch the rain droplets race down the glass, and climbs into bed, pats his pillow until it’s of satisfactory height.

You turn off the bedside lamp on your nightstand, turn on the cat-shaped nightlight and shimmy between the sheets. Then you pause, grab your phone and unlock it.

Jason’s eyes roam your face, the curve of your nose and lips, the heaviness in your tired eyes as you slowly blink at your phone screen. He’s made an effort to commit your features to his memory so he can see your face every time he closes his eyes. So he can keep you with him everywhere. Always. So, once again, he takes his time, going over every one of your features until you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand.

“I love you,” he says, low and soft, though with all the clarity he can inject into his words.

You stare at him for a moment, then pull your duvet up to your chin, rest your head on your pillow and close your eyes. “I love you, too.”

“Forever.”

“Forever is such a vague concept,” you tell him with a scrunch in your brow. He can barely make it out in the dim red glow of the bedroom but he knows it's there. “Until the end of the universe. And even then you’ll be stuck with me. Like glitter.”

“Yeah? When’s that?”

“We’ll reincarnate an infinite amount of times between now and then,” you say with the certainty of someone who’s gazed far into the future, gazed at the very death of the universe itself. Maybe you have. Maybe you’re a meta—a true meta—unlike him, something that crawled out of his grave in Gotham.

Jason blinks, allows your statement to settle into the marrow of his bones, into his very being. His blood thrums in his veins. He balls his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “I don’t know; sounds a lot like forever.”

You make a sound at the back of your throat again. It is not a sound of displeasure, nor a sound of agreement, either. “Again; vague. The eventual death of the universe is all but guaranteed; it’ll expand too much and become too cold to inhabit. Probably. There’s like… six different big theories on how the universe will end. Take your pick.”

“But we’ll find each other every time.” It is not a question. Still, you nod.

“Yes. Every lifetime.”

“Promise?”

You open your eyes, take him in—you can barely make out his features in the dark but you can—the mass of dark hair splayed out across his (your) pillow, the curve of his nose and that of his cupid’s bow, the almost milky whiteness of his eyes. This is where your heart has settled. This is home.

“I promise.”

part 2

dividers by @/cafekitsune

#jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd fluff #dc fanfiction #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #dc x reader

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hellfiremunsonn · 7 months ago

Text

Tender Touches. Eddie Munson x Reader

Tender Touches

I DO NOT ALLOW MY WRITING TO BE REPUBLISHED ANYWHERE OTHER THAN MY OWN BLOG WITHOUT MY CONSENT

Summary: A typical Tuesday that leads to you and Eddie finally confessing your feelings for each other, and finally, losing that virgin status.

18 + IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER DO NOT READ OR INTERACT WITH MY WRITING. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR MINORS. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

Warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, virgin reader, virgin Eddie, hes such a teasing little shit, protected sex, first times, 'fem' pet names (IF THERES ANYTHING I MISSED LET ME KNOW)

AN: I CAN WRITE? WHO KNEW!!! NOT REALLY PROOF READ (And shout out to my bby boy @rowanswriting for giving this a read through for me to make sure it wasn't absolute garbage! love u <3)

Wordcount: 4.6k

It's a normal Tuesday afternoon. You're at eddies, kneeled in front of his tv that he's moved into his room so the two of you can lay in his bed and watch movies instead of squishing together on the couch. Not that you didn't mind squishing up with him, it was actually one of your favourite activities when the two of you weren't constantly teasing each other to cover up the fact that you both were head over heels for one another.

You can hear Eddie bumbling around in the kitchen, muttering to himself while you sift through the pile of tapes. Some newly rented, some classics he already owned, so it was just a matter of deciding on watching something new or rewatching something just cause. You decided on The Lost Boys. You had only seen it once before when Eddie rented it for halloween one year, but never made it through the whole thing because you had fallen asleep. You had come down with a cold only two days before and were upset you couldn't do your halloween traditions, but naturally that didn't stop Eddie from showing up at your door step, with snacks, and drinks to make you feel better along with the movie and cuddles from him that could never compare to anyone else's.

You were so lost in thought that the entire time you've been sat going through the movies you didn't realize Eddie had been watching you. Stood in the doorway with a stupid smile on his face while he watched you quietly talk to yourself about each movie.

He tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, pretending to clear his throat and slightly startling you in the process. "Pick one yet?"

You squeaked slightly at his voice. "Shit Ed's you scared me"

He laughed, laying down on his bed, setting the bowl of popcorn down in the middle, and putting your drinks on the table next to him. "It's not my fault you're so jumpy all the time"

"I swear I only get this bad around you" you say with a fake sigh, sliding the movie out of its cardboard case and into the VHS machine.

"That sounds like a you problem dude" he says flicking a piece of popcorn at you. It hits you in the forehead and lands in your lap.

"Rude" you mumble, picking up the piece of popcorn and eating it before standing up with a stretch. Arms over your head with your fingers interlocked; your cropped band t-shirt rising up, to where it's about a centimetre away from fully exposing your boobs but the stretch feels too good for you to notice. Eddie notices though, and he almost fully chokes and gags on his own spit at the sight of the soft skin of your underboob.

You crawl your way onto Eddies bed and sit next to him, pulling the popcorn bowl closer to you, and taking a tiny handful. Eddies body is ridged next to you, but you don't seem to notice.

You make it about ten minutes into the movie before your fourth sigh of the night makes Eddie take the bowl of popcorn from you and turns to face you. "Alright, what's your issue?" he asks.

"What? What are you talking about?" you sit up, pushing yourself up with your hands and crossing your legs under you.

"You've been sighing every five seconds like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, so what is it" he pokes your shoulder a little too hard and you wince but smile nonetheless.

"If I ask you something stupid do you promise not to laugh?" you gnaw at your bottom lip, looking up at him with soft eyes.

"Have I ever?" he says quickly, a smug smile on his face.

"Often actually" you tease.

"No but seriously, you can tell me anything" he says reaching over to give your thigh a gentle pat and squeeze.

"Okay, um, do you think I'm hot?" you can feel the heat of embarrassment rise from your stomach up your neck to your cheeks.

Eddie stares at you. You almost think he might actually be frozen, and you're about to ask him if he's okay when he exhales loudly.

"I'm not sure what you're asking me here" he says with a small laugh. "Are you asking if I'm attracted to you orrrrr?" he raises a brow.

"Well, no" you furrow your brows. "Not exactly, but if you are attracted to me, that might help?" You groan, dropping your head into your hands. "ugh, okay" you said loudly and taking a deep breath. Pretending that it will help you feel more confident with your words.

"When you look at me, or when we first met did, did you think 'wow she's hot' or do I just not look like that?" the words tumble out of your mouth, almost too quickly that Eddie slightly struggles to understand you at first.

Eddie looks at you in disbelief before letting out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"S'not funny!" you say slapping him on the arm, which only spurs him on.

"No, no it's not" he said in between breaths. "It's just an absolutely ridiculous question, of course you're hot" he said matter of fact. "Have you ever even looked at yourself?" He puts the bowl of popcorn down on the floor next to him, turning to fully face you now making you feel nervous with all his attention on you.

"I look at myself everyday Ed's" you say looking down, playing with the hem of one of your socks.

"Okay don't get an attitude with me, you know what I mean" he said while crossing one arm over his chest to scratch at the opposite bicep, you bite your lip at the sight.

You roll your eyes and huff. "M'not getting an attitude Ed's I ju-" (you were absolutely getting an attitude) But he grabs your face with one hand before you can finish the sentence, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are in a pout. You had thought that your face couldn't heat up any more with embarrassment than it already had, but then his hands touched your face and your entire body engulfed in heat.

"Answer the question" he said slowly, each word enunciated and his tone oddly stern. Watching you for a moment, before releasing your face from his hand, leaning back against the wall.

Your heart was thumping in your chest. "I j-just don't see what other people see obviously, a-and maybe I'm missing something you know? And that's why people don't like me" you rush.

He scoffs, shaking his head, leaning back until he was looking up at the ceiling. Throat on display, thick and inviting, begging to be bitten. You swallowed hard when he looked back at you, some sort of mischief in his eyes.

"Ed's you're being weird" you say shifting slightly, trying to ignore the roaring heat you could feel between your legs.

He hums. "Do you not see the way I look at you?" he leans forward, resting his elbows on the top of his thighs while he looks at you intently.

"I can see the way you're looking at me right now" you say softly, heart thumping so loudly in your ears you wondered if it was loud enough for Eddie to hear.

"And how am I looking at you right now?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You swallow thickly, only raising your eyes to his briefly while you said. "You're looking at me like you want to-" you lick your lips. "-Like you want to fuck me"

His smile spreads slowly, it's a wicked grin that makes you nervous but intrigues you more.

"There's my smart girl" he coos.

Your mouth falls agape, unsure at how to respond to him "Huh?"

He's quick, grabbing at your legs until he's pulled you down enough so you're laying on your back, hair sprawled around you messily while your breath catches in your throat. He's hovering over you with both his hands on either side of your head looking at you like he's on death row and you're his last meal.

"I want to do a lot more than fuck you, but I'd like to start with a kiss if that's okay?"

You're in shock, you almost consider pinching yourself to make sure this isn't a dream "You want to kiss me?" you ask. "Did I fall and hit my head or something?" you lean up on your elbows and Eddie moves back slightly to accommodate you but still stays close.

"For someone who's as smart as you are, you can be really dumb sometimes" Eddie laughs. "Of course I want to kiss you, you idiot" he says all too casually.

Something blooms inside you. You don't know if its confidence, or arousal, but with a laugh you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips into his. He lets out a small groan and it fuels the heat between your legs more spreading throughout your entire body until it reaches the centre of your chest. His lips are soft and pillowy just like you had imagined. He taste like cigarettes, popcorn, and the sugar from the candies you had shared.

You push yourself forward more until Eddie leans back almost completely. "Sit" you mumble against his mouth and he listens, not letting your lips be untouched for more than a second while he moves to sit on the edge of his bed. You quickly straddle him, hands coming up to either sides of his face to deepen the kiss, and his squeeze at the sides of your hips, earning a small moan that you tried to keep quiet. You don't realize you're not putting your full weight on him until you feel him guide your hips closer, the brush of his hardened cock against your centre makes you squeak in surprise.

The two of you move together like you knew what you were doing, it was instinct considering you never made it this far with most of the people you've been with. Sure you've fooled around with others, and you've done most of the sexual acts your mind could comprehend but neither of you had been able to discard that 'virgin' title. But it's never felt like this, it never felt electric, and the shocking realization that you could make Eddie feel this good makes you even more turned on.

Eddie pulls back slightly when he realizes you've started to grind against him. "W-We don't have to do anything if you don't want to" he says breathlessly.

"I know" you whisper "But this feels really good" you admit, never once stopping the motion of your hips.

"You're gunna make me cum in my pants if you keep doing that" he says glancing down to watch the roll of your hips.

"Is that a challenge?" you tease, pressing down on him a little harder which makes him close his eyes tight and groan.

"You don't wanna start that game sweetheart" his hands are tight where they've moved to your thighs, squeezing harshly.

"Why not?" you say looking at him, eyes blown out and glassy, you feel drunk off of want-Need.

"Cause you won't win" Eddie says with a smirk. One arm wrapping around your waist as he pushes himself up into you hard, a forced moan slipping from your mouth loudly while he flips the two of you, until you're on your back under him once again.

"How do you know how to do all that?" You ask through a small gasp.

"I'm a virgin sweetheart, not inexperienced" he smirks and you open your eyes just quickly enough to catch the end of it.

"Can I keep getting those pretty sounds outta you?" his cheeks are flushed, and you think he's never looked prettier.

You nod quickly, pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt, trying to get him closer "More" you plead. "Please?"

"Yeah? You want more?" He asks while looping his fingers into the waistband of your pants, inching them down so, so, slowly until your lower half is bare before him. You whine impatiently and he smiles. "You can have anything you want baby I'll give it to you"

You cover your face with your hands, heat rising to your cheeks at the way he called you baby while undressing you. He moves your hands away, a cocky smile on his face. "What's got you all shy now hmm?"

"You can't just call me baby like that" you breathe, watching him in a daze as he trailed kisses down between the valley of your breasts, barely covered by the crop top you wore.

"Why not?" he mumbles against your skin, nipping and licking at any spot he can get access. You keen into his touch, your waist instinctively following the warmth of his mouth.

You hum, forcing the words to come to you, but he's making you feel so good. "Gives me butterflies" you murmur. "B-but, like lower?" brows furrowed.

Eddies head shoots up to look at you when he hears that. Your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back so you can't see him look at you. "Lower?" he asks trailing a finger from your sternum down to your waist.

"Yeah" you nod and sigh.

Eddie coos "You tellin' me I give your pussy butterflies?" His hand continues down you until his palm pushes against your clit. You know he's smirking, you know he's looking up at you, but you can't open your eyes to look.

You hate the way pussy rolls of his tongue, but you hate the way it makes your stomach flip more, and the pathetic noise of a whimper that leaves you when he says it.

"Can we, c-could y-you" your trying to get the words out but your arousal fogs your mind, the only thing there is Eddie.

"What is it baby, what do you need?" his thumb swipes at your clit and you mewl.

You finally open your eyes, tilting your head to your shoulder to look at him. His eyes are down where his thumb is connected to you, watching in awe the way your cunt literally shines for him. His eyes flick back up quickly and he smiles when he sees you looking back at him.

"Can we have sex?" you say quickly and so very quiet Eddie almost doesn't catch it.

"Do you want to?" He asks seriously.

You nod. "I feel like I'm on fire, I want to feel you, I need it" you say it so surely that Eddie has to bite his tongue from declaring his love for you right then and there, so instead he just nods leaning back onto his knees, too far away from you for your liking and you pout.

"Show me how you touch yourself first" he says while reaching behind him to pull his shirt over his head.

"What!?" you prop yourself up onto your elbows, mouth agape in shock knees knocking together.

"Show me" he says with a nod, eyes flicking down to your slick pussy that he can still see despite your attempt to hide it, and then back up to you. "How you touch yourself" his words are slow, just like his hands as they undo his belt, pulling it out of its loops and chucking it onto the floor.

You hesitate still, watching him while he pops the button of his jeans and pulls at them so the zipper slides down. "Listen, I'm sure I can figure it out myself, but I'd have a better chance at making you cum if you show me" he smirks.

That smug bastard. It takes everything in you to keep your voice steady but when you speak, you don't break eye contact and say "I'd rather you put your mouth on me instead"

He falters only slightly. It's the way his smile drops just barely at the corner of his mouth and the way his cheeks flush that you're able to catch it. He laughs in disbelief, tugging his jeans down just a little to relieve some pressure, exposing the soft happy trail just below his belly button.

You bite your lip and hum at the sight, dreaming about the way it would feel if you dragged your tongue over it. "I don't know if I can wait that long though" you admit, sighing when you look back up at him.

"Wait that long for what?" he says slowly crawling his way back on top of you, knee slotting perfectly between your legs. You flinch when the fabric of his jeans makes contact with your clit.

"Tell me what you're waiting for hmm?" he asked, that stupid smirk you already know is plastered on his face.

You're getting needy, and Eddie is memorizing every sound and movement you make because of it. Determined to get you like this as often as you'll let him. "Please" you whine, and you curse yourself for the tears you feel prick at the corner of your lashes.

"Please what" he crowds your space, enveloping you in all of him.

"Please sir? Please Daddy? Please Master? Please Eddie?" you rush frustrated. "I n-need you Eds please"

"Fuck" he breathes, head falling until his forehead is resting against your shoulder. "You sure?" he asks again, looking back at you for reassurance.

"Yeah" you lick your lips, mouth dry with excitement. "I'm sure"

"It- Um, okay, I might not last very long" he says bashfully, leaning back from you to lean over to his bedside table, picking out a shiny packet and tossing it onto the bed next to you.

"I don't care" you shake your head smiling, you're so blissed out, you can't imagine how you'll feel when he gets to fuck you properly but that's for another day.

He huffs a laugh, pulling back from you to take his jeans and boxers off. You admire him, finally getting a glance at what you've been dreaming of. His dick is perfect needless to say, but you can't help the nerves that bloom in your stomach about what the two of you are about to do.

Eddie catches the change in your eyes and is quick to reassure you, with a hand on your knee, resting his chin on it and giving it a squeeze. "Hey, it'll be okay, we'll go slow okay? If it sucks, just tell me, I'll wait forever for this, as long as its with you"

Your eyes water at his sincerity and he panics slightly when he sees your bottom lip wobble. "Baby, hey, come here" he lays next to you and pulls you into him, and you gladly hide your face into the crook of his shoulder, sniffing slightly.

"You're so sweet to me" you say quietly.

"Well it's cause I love you" he says, and you both still for a moment, because that's the first time those words have been fully and truthfully spoken with romantic intent.

"You love me?" you ask, leaning back to look up at him. Even though he just said it, and you know it's the truth, it's what you've been waiting to hear for the last three years.

He nods and smiles, his cheeks pink as he says "I do"

You giggle. "I love you to"

"Gross" he says before leaning down to kiss you quick. "Wanna try?"

"Yeah" you take a breath. "Yeah, I'm ready, m'just nervous that it's going to hurt" you admit.

"It might, but tell me if it's too much okay? If I had known this was going to be happening today I would have restocked my lube"

You snort at his unfiltered self, never afraid to say what he's thinking.

It's shaky hands and fumbling movements, shoving your faded sea creature themed comforter you always brought with you for sleep overs, down as far as it could go. It's the first time the two of you have seen each other like this, the tension building over the last three years as the two of you pretended you weren't head over heels for each other it felt like you could explode.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, hands slipping under the sides of your shirt.

You nod, lifting yourself up to fling it over your head and onto his floor, and he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. He stares for a moment, just taking you in, like he's dreamed about.

"You're acting like you've never seen a pair of tits before" you tease.

"I've seen plenty of tits" he scoffs. "but I haven't seen such perfect tits before" and he dives in, kissing every inch of them, mouthing at the skin, and licking each of your nipples until you're keening into his touch. He only stops when you whimper because he knows you're growing needier by the second.

"I know m'sorry" he says breathlessly against your sternum. Sitting back up onto his knees he reaches for the condom next to you, tearing the wrapper by the corner and pulling out the slippery latex circle. You watch as he slips it on so quickly, like he's done this a million times, and just before you can ask "I've practiced" he says with a smirk, coming back to rest between the safety of your thighs, hugging his hips perfectly.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah" you nod with a smile.

"Okay" he breathes. "Fuck, yeah, okay, okay" he takes his cock into his hand, pushing it through your slick folds and the two of you moan in unison. Gathering your arousal l until he dips just below to your entrance, looking back up at you for approval.

You nod again. "That's the right spot" you encourage and he laughs.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

"I will baby I promise"

he leans over you quickly to kiss you, because how could he not when you just called him baby like that? Slowly he pushes the head of his cock against you. Just the slight pressure of his cock feels good but it doesn't erase the nerves bubbling through you as Eddie pushes in more.

"Sh-it" you say through gritted teeth.

"D'you want me to stop?"

"No no, sorry, just, weird feeling, never had anything so um" you giggle and Eddies eyes panicky search yours, because why are you laughing when his dick is about to enter you.

"Please don't tell me my dick is small, not now, I couldn't handle it"

You laugh again but louder, switching to a moan when Eddies own laughter causes him to push in a little more. Your hands coming up to hold his biceps.

"I've never had anything so big in me"

"Don't flatter me" he teases.

"Oh fuck off" you slap his arm before returning your hand back to it.

He slips in inch by inch, and it doesn't not hurt, but it doesn't feel entirely great either. It's a mixture of pain and pleasure, with the oddest comforting feeling of him so deep inside you.

"Fucking christ" Eddie breathes when he bottoms out, arms shaking from where they hold himself up above you. "If I move I'm cumming in like thirty seconds, tops"

You laugh and he groans at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him.

"Fuck, don't, you can't laugh" he says, but you can't help it especially when he says it through a laugh himself.

"Stop making me laugh then!" you quip.

And so he does, slipping one hand between your two bodies until he finds your slippery clit, rubbing circles that has you embarrassingly and shockingly close to cumming. Your back arches with a gasp, another pornographic moan leaving you as Eddie continues his movements. Eventually slowly pulling himself out an inch before going back in. You don't even realize he's doing it until one thrust and clench of your cunt happen at the same time and you almost choke on your spit at how good it feels.

"Holy shit" you breathe.

"I know" Eddie says through a laugh of disbelief.

A thick heat engulfs your body, sweat forming between your two bodies, and you feel everything in you begin to tremble.

"You okay?" he says from the crook of your neck.

"Uh-huh" you nod with a hiccup.

Eddie pulls himself from your neck to look at you, concerned with the sad noise that you made. He slows down and you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that blur your vision. They slide down the sides of your temples, and fade into your hairline. Eddies hand comes up to wipe away at the tears, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Baby, baby, what's going on?"

"M'okay" you say though a small sob. "Just feels really good" you admit.

"Yeah?" He says picking his speed back up.

"You're gunna make me cum I think" You say craning your neck to look at where the two of you are connected, his trimmed pubes, wet against yours with your arousal. You slide your hand down to rub at your clit, and the sensation is almost so intense you want to stop, but you're so close.

"Keep doing that baby, come on" he grunts, gritting his teeth as he fucks into you harder once he realizes you can take it. And boy can you take it.

"Yes, oh- ohmygod!" you whine, head falling back against his pillows. "Please please please please-" You chant. You're not sure if you're asking Eddie for permission or yourself, but him approving it doesn't sound too bad.

"Come on, you're so close I can feel it" he watches as your legs tremble, slowly moving up, up, up, until your knees are under your chin, toes pointed against his thighs like you're trying to push yourself away from him while your hands cling to his biceps to bring you closer. When you start bouncing yourself back on eddies cock in time with his thrusts he knows he's going to lose it.

"Cum on this cock pretty girl, come on" his voice shakes, and he's losing his rhythm.

"I'm- oh I'm- fuck Eddie!" The hand that still holds him grips tightly, nails digging into his skin, and he can feel it start to burn but he doesn't care.

"Fuck yeah baby, look at you, you're so hot, fucking christ, god, you're amazing, m'gunna cum, shit" he babbles before he cums, spilling more words and expletives as he spills himself inside the condom, inside of you, his words warm against your chest.

Its quiet apart from the two of you catching your breath, relaxing your muscles, and the only time either of you make a noise is when Eddie lifts his head from you, bangs stuck to his forehead in every direction and you can't help but laugh.

"What?" He says smiling back at you, absolutely in love.

"You look a mess" you say snorting, pushing his hair away from his face.

"You look sexy" he says leaning up from you, slowly pulling himself out of you and removing the condom, tying it in a knot and chucking it into his garbage can next to his bed. You make a small whimper of disapproval when he leans back again, thinking he's going to get up.

"Not going anywhere pretty" he says reaching for the blanket that had been pushed off his bed, bringing it back up, and cuddling it up around you before sliding himself under it next to you.

You scooch over until you can lay your head on his chest, leg hitching up over his waist and you can feel your arousal leak out of you and probably onto him but you're too blissed out to care.

"I love you" you murmur softly into his skin, placing delicate kisses.

"Hmm?" he lolls his head to the side, eyes sleepy and fond, thumb rubbing gently across your cheek.

"I love you" you say looking up at him, cheek smushed against his chest.

"I love you right back" he says without a beat.

#hellfiremunsonn #Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things fic #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Stranger Things smut #Eddie Munson fan fiction #Stranger things fan fiction #Joseph Quinn #Eddie Munson Stranger Things #Stranger Things Eddie Munson

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fallstaticexit · 18 days ago

Text

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Bruises/Hickies, Church

AN: Surprise shawtyyy! I was fighting demons to keep a poker face up until this point lolol also normally, I'd have a follow up post for Tuesday if I post on a Monday - but next update will be later this week, as I'm at the point where I'm just straight up making poses for the whole thing lol. (trying not to, because it's time consuming).

Transcript under the cut

Malcolm: Are they done yet? This is boring!

Jonathan: You don’t get it.

Malcolm: Get what!

Jonathan: Mom and Dad. They’re in love and stuff.

Malcolm: Bleh!

Nancy: [whispers] I’m sorry.

Geoffrey: Hm? What for?

Nancy Narrates: [For betraying you]

Nancy Narrates: [For always wanting more when this should be enough]

Nancy Narrates: [You don’t deserve this..]

Nancy: [whispers] Nothing. Nevermind.

Jonathan: What happened? What’s wrong with Mom?

Geoffrey: She’s ok, she just needs to rest-

Malcolm: Is it cause she’s drunk?

Geoffrey: Malcolm- Ok, how about you two find a movie for us to watch for boy’s night and I’ll get Mommy ready for bed.

Geoffrey: Nance. I need you to sit up so I can get your night gown on.

Nancy: Mhm.. s’fine.

Geoffrey: [snorts] Alright, suit yourself. Don’t try and steal all the blankets when you get cold tonight.

Nancy: [whimpers] M’ gonna be better, Geoffrey. M’so sorry..

Geoffrey: There you go, apologizing again. You know it’s ok if you do steal them, right, silly? I run hot at night any...anyway-

Nancy Narrates: [I made a silent promise to my family that I’ll never stray away from them again. I would make it right, somehow]

Deacon: Today we gather to reflect on the sacred gift of family. God created humanity in His image. From the beginning, we see family is part of His design.

Deacon: It is within our families that we first encounter unconditional love that mirrors God’s own love for us all.

Priest: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Nancy: Amen. [softly] Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been- [exhales] a while since my last confession.

Priest: What is troubling you, my child?

Nancy: I’ve- fallen prey to my weakness for the same sex. I fear what I’ve done will ruin my family.

Priest: Have you struggled with this before?

Nancy: I’ve never really acted on it, until now.

Priest: How do you feel about what you’ve done?

Nancy: Guilt. Shame. Disgust.

Priest: My daughter, these emotions are a sign of your conscience at work. You have acted against your own values. You know these unnatural ways is not in accordance to God’s design. For your penance, I want you to spend time in prayer and consider the harm you’ve caused for yourself and for your soul.

Judith: Oh, brother. He said that?

Nancy: It’s nothing I’ve never heard before, growing up in the church and all.

Judith: You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?

Nancy: [scoffs] I cheated on my husband! That’s unforgivable, in any situation. If Geoffrey ever found out, he’d leave me. The boys would have to suffer through a divorce- a broken family. The media would eat us alive. And my mother, God, if she knew-

Judith: Oh, I am so sick of hearing about that old broad!

Nancy: I just need to put it behind me. Move on. I got it out of my system, so I have no reason to speak to Lily ever again. I’ll never think about another woman. I’ll be good. Normal.

Judith: What the hell is normal, anyway? If you’re abnormal, than so am I.

Nancy: [sighs] You’re not married or a mother.

Judith: Have you even allowed yourself a moment to revel in this?

Nancy: Why would I?

Judith: Because you finally gave yourself something you wanted. Put the shame and all those nasty feelings aside for a second and tell me about it.

Nancy: [groans] God, it felt so good. The sex yes, but there was something about her obeying everything I said that thrilled me. If I close my eyes now, I can still feel her teeth in my skin, her gasps when I squeezed her throat.

Judith: There.

Nancy: What? There what?

Judith: The real you. You pack her away so much that when you finally allow her to show, she shines.

Nancy: She frightens me..

Judith: Good! She’s a real bitch, and she’s ready for her debut! I want to see you at your brightest, darling. It’s when you’re the happiest.

Nancy: I don’t know if happiness was in the cards I was dealt.

Judith: I believe it is. And when it comes, bask in it, darling.

Jonathan: Move, Malcolm! I have the phone!

Malcolm: NO! Let me talk to mommy!

Nancy: Quit bickering, you two. Jonathan, let your brother speak too, please.

Malcolm: YEAH!

Jonathan: [groans] Fine! Mom, are you almost home? Will you be late again?

Nancy: I’ve just wrapped up my last client and I’ll be on my way.

Malcolm: Then we can look for a Christmas tree?!

Nancy: We sure can, my love. I’ll see you both very, very soon.

Jonathan: Promise?

Nancy: I promise. I love you both so much.

Assistant: Mrs. Landgraab, you have a guest asking for you in the lobby.

Nancy: [scoffs] You’re joking? No, no I can’t. Have them book an appointment. I’m leaving for the evening.

Assistant: I suggested that, but they refused to leave and insisted on seeing you.

Nancy: Oh, fucking hell.. fine. Page my driver to wait for me out front anyway. I’ll make this quick.

Nancy: [breathlessly] Vanessa.

Vanessa: Hello Nancy.

#the art of being seen #the landgraabs #tw hickies #tw bruises #tw church #church #priest #tw priest #sims 4 simblr #ts4 simblr #sims 4 stories #sims 4 #sims 4 community #Nancy Landgraab #Judith Ward #Geoffrey Landgraab

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yelenasbraid · 4 months ago

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝒋𝒐𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘

summary — joe proposes to you

warnings — fem!reader, major fluff

note — joe is NOT bald in this, but when i saw he shaved his head i winced a little (i’m dramatic i know it’ll be fine)

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋. you and joe were hosting your families for dinner, and you couldn’t be more excited. you loved when your families got together, eating dinner and laughing at all of the good memories.

joe was excited for the same reason, but there was another one that had kept him up the previous night.

“dad said he wanted to grill tonight, so if it’s alright with you, we let good ol’ dad grill,” you chirped as you slid a pumpkin pie into the oven. joe always requested pie at special occasions, sometimes he requested it on a normal tuesday. you always obliged; you thought it was adorable that joe’s favorite dessert was pumpkin pie.

“less cooking for us,” joe grinned. he was at the counter, leaning his forearms against the countertop. he watched you, observing how your cheeks were flushed with the heat coming from the oven, how your hair was tied up behind you. your eyes sparkled as you eyed him, a grin spreading across your lips.

“true, plus dad makes a killer steak,” you told him, putting a timer on the oven. you stepped away from the oven and walked up to joe, wrapping your arms around his middle from behind him.

“has your mom said anything?” you asked as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“only that she’s bringing a side, though i told her not to,” he twisted his head to kiss your temple. as much as he loved having family over, hearing the laughter and seeing you smile, joe cherished moments like this where it was just the two of you. it was a kind of intimacy that while silent, spoke volumes.

“mama burrow will always bring a side, you know she misses cooking for you boys,” you hummed, and joe sighed in agreement. there were days he missed being with his mom, but he wouldn’t change anything. if he did, who knows if he’d have met you?

a knock at the door separated you two.

“hold on,” joe spoke as you parted to get the door. he softly grabbed your hand and pulled you to him, softly kissing your lips.

“what was that for?” you smiled, pulling away with a blush on your cheeks. even after three years, joe still could make you blush.

“just because,” he shrugged, a boyish smile making its way onto his face. you playfully rolled your eyes, pecking his lips again.

“alright, sweet boy,” you said, turning away from him to greet your guests.

—

dinner was done, dessert finished, and now both families were sitting outside on the patio, lights illuminating faces. you sat by joe, a glass of wine in your hands as you listened to a story your mom was telling.

“i’m telling you guys, this girl could fall asleep anywhere. i’ll never forget i came home from work one day to find 6 year old y/n sleeping in her father’s office chair. except she wasn’t sitting in it, no, the top half of her made it into the chair, legs didn’t. so she fell asleep only halfway on a desk chair,” your mom couldn’t contain her giggles as she recalled the memory.

“how did you not fall off?” robin asked you, blushes of embarrassment rising to your cheeks.

“that’s a fantastic question,” you laughed, as did everyone else.

“she can pretty much still fall asleep anywhere,” joe confirmed, which earned a playful eye roll and a shove from you.

stories continued to be shared, and as the evening came to a close, the ring box in joe’s pocket grew heavier by the second. he was beginning to get nervous. what if he said things wrong? what if, by some chance, you said no? you’ve seen each other through thick and thin, the good days and the bad days. why was he so nervous?

it was getting later, the soft colors of the sunset beginning to fade. you and joe bid farewell to your guests, but you didn’t hear what your father said to joe as he embraced him.

“she’s gonna say yes, joe,” your father gave him a wink before they all bid farewell for the evening, leaving the two of you alone. the little affirmation from your father helped joe’s nerves, but not enough to completely be rid of them.

“well, that was fun! i would say dad cooked an extra mean steak tonight,” you sighed as you took another sip of your wine.

“he definitely upped his steak game,” he agreed, but the more he stood there the crazier the nerves got. he felt like he was going to keel over, but at the same time, he was so excited. ever since he met you he wanted to marry you. he couldn’t see him spending forever with anyone else.

you finished your glass and got up to take it into the kitchen. joe softly grabbed your hand, pulling you back to him. a concerned but relaxed expression dawned on your face as you walked towards him.

“you alright?” you asked him, setting your wine glass down. you felt the warmth of his hands, how sweaty they were.

“i’ve never been better,” he hummed. underneath the lights, you glowed. your eyes sparkled, your skin was glowing, and of course you held a smile on your face. he ran the words over in his mind, hoping he made some sense. it shouldn’t matter, but it did to him.

“you look like you’re gonna pass out,” you commented, which earned a chuckle from joe.

“i’m not gonna pass out on you, promise,” he reassured you. he cleared his throat, and brought his hand out of yours to caress your face. you reached up and grabbed his hand, watching as his eyes sparkled.

“have i ever told you how much i love you?” his words were smooth and sweet. you felt your cheeks heat up, and for some reason, the butterflies awoke in your stomach.

“many times, joey,” you answered.

“y/n i…you’ve been by my side this entire time. with grace, with love, and with a forgiveness that sometimes i didn’t deserve. ever since i transferred from ohio state, you’ve been there. you told me that i shouldn’t give up on my dream to be a pro football player. you told me to prove them wrong,” he started, feeling his eyes start to burn with tears. he swore he wouldn’t cry, not now. he had to at least get down on one knee first.

you were silent. you watched him curiously, but something in your gut told you this wasn’t a normal speech. your breath was shaky with nerves as you watched him, trying not to get your hopes up too high.

“you stuck with me through lsu, through injury after injury. through everything, and i can’t repay any of that. you’ve been the safety i come home to, my biggest cheerleader, and the woman who’s been the glue to hold me together,” he continued, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

you held onto his hand, which had dropped from your face, and rubbed circles on his hand with your thumb.

“with all of that being said,” he started, digging a shaky hand into his pocket and pulling out the box, “will you marry me?” he got down on one knee, opened the box and revealed the beautiful diamond ring he bought you.

your hands covered your mouth as tears escaped your eyes. you were speechless for a moment, mainly because of the words joey said and the intentionality behind them, but also because you didn’t see this coming. at all.

“joey i wouldn’t want to do anything else in this life,” you whispered, offering him your left hand, “so yes, i will marry you,” joe’s face ignited as you responded, sliding the ring over your ring finger. the second he did, you stood him up by the collar and kissed him, your hands cupping his face. your lips mingled together, every emotion and every ounce of adoration you had for each other pouring out of you. joe’s hands found their way to your face, cupping your cheeks as you firmly kissed him. it was a warm embrace, and even as you kissed him tears still streamed down both of your faces.

finally pulling away, you rested your forehead against his.

“i love you, so much, joseph burrow,” you whispered, looking into his eyes.

“i love you, future mrs. burrow,” he hummed as he dipped his head in for another kiss.

ok ok yes i have no idea what an engagement speech sounds like (or if that’s still a thing, some people just pop the question) so if these sound like vows IM SORRY

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine #celebrity imagine

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

Note

Hmmmmmmmmmm

Reader waking up to Sevika having a wet dream about her? I’m so normal about her

love this. gonna combine it this ask another ask and make it ceo sevika:

CEO SEV CEO SEV CEO SEV

men and minors dni

neither you or sevika are morning people. if it were up to the two of you, work would start around one in the afternoon. unfortunately, with sevika's job, neither of you get to sleep in often when both of you have to be at work two hours before the day starts to get ready for everyone.

once you moved in with her, you and sevika came up with a nice system to allow each of you some time to sleep in a bit on weekdays.

mondays, wednesdays, and fridays, sevika wakes up at five in the morning to make the both of you breakfast, pick out your outfits and pack your briefcases, and tidy up the house from whatever mess the two of you left behind after dinner the night before. and then, when she can put it off no longer, she'll gently wake you up at six fifteen with sweet kisses and bribes of coffee to get you out of bed.

you do the same on tuesdays and thursdays.

this morning, when the alarm blared, sevika grunted and kicked you awake.

you chuckled as you slammed the alarm, then kissed her head, snuck out from her grasp, pulled the blankets back up around her, and headed to the kitchen to start the day.

you made breakfast, brushed your teeth, dressed yourself, then picked out a nice outfit for sevika that not-so-subtly matches your own outfit.

and now, you're balancing a plate of scrambled eggs and a mug of coffee in one hand as you tip toe back to the bedroom to wake up your wife.

"babyyyy..." you sing, setting the food down on her nightstand table.

sevika's responding grumble is not the typical responding grumble you get most early mornings. it's... needier.

you gulp as you turn back around to study your wife where she lay, blankets tucked under her chin, body obscured beneath the mountain of fluffy blankets on your bed. there's a little furrow between her brow, and her eyes are moving rapidly under her eyelids, her eyelashes twitching against her cheek.

suddenly, sevika gasps, her whole body going taut-- and then she sighs a pretty "ahh" as she relaxes against the mattress again.

oh, fuck. sevika's having a wet dream.

you stare in disbelief, not sure what to do with yourself. do you wake her up and not mention the tiny whimpers she's letting out right now?

"sh-shit, baby." sevika whimpers.

well, now you can't ignore it. it's not just some random wet dream, she's dreaming about you.

you bite your lip, then reach out and grab the corner of the blankets, slowly peeling them away from her body.

sevika slept shirtless, clad only in boxers beneath the covers. she shivers, goosebumps popping up on the surface of her skin, her nipples hardening. you chuckle, then bite back your own whimper when you see the tent in her boxers.

"oh, honey." you coo, sympathetic. sevika's face scrunches in recognition of your voice, and you chuckle, reaching forward to gently push a few strands of her hair off her forehead. you don't want to wake her up just yet. you just want to watch her for a while.

still, you can't help but hum happily when sevika subconciously nuzzles against your hand on her face. the corners of her lips twitch up happily for just a moment at the sound, and then she's pulled back into her dream, huffing and smacking her lips at something.

you giggle again and press a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. then, you slowly straddle her waist, sure not to shift too abruptly and wake her up. you hover over her on all fours, just watching her shudder and shift beneath you. sevika grunts.

"h-harder!" she suddenly whimpers, her eyebrows pinching. you giggle.

"not even touchin' you baby." you whisper. sevika pouts in her sleep at this, and you chuckle.

"but i wan' you." she whines, her eyes still closed, her mind still off. it seems like she can hear you in her dream, though. you giggle.

"well then wake up an' you can have me. but i gotta tell you, baby, i'm happy to just sit here and watch you cum in your sleep."

sevika scowls, suddenly angry, and her hips shift enough for her cock to graze your ass. you both gasp, and then sevika growls. "wanna cum in you."

your plan to simply watch flies out the window then. now you have to touch her. "wake up." you whisper, ducking down to kiss her lips. she hums against you, but her lips remain unresponsive. "wake up sevika, don'cha wanna touch me baby?" you whisper, trailing kisses down her throat. she shivers underneath you.

you look over at the clock on your nightstand. you've got forty minutes before you need to leave for work, and if you account for the ten minutes of post-coital cuddles sevika insists upon, you need her to wake up now in order for the two of you to get to work on time.

you've only got one option.

you press one more gentle kiss to the tip of her nose, grinning at the sweet way her face scrunches and memorizing the sweet, sleepy grunts she's letting out with each intermittent twitch of her hips under you; and then you reach forward and pinch her nipples as you sit down and start grinding on her cock.

sevika bolts upright the second you do, gasping and wrapping her arms around your waist as she blinks awake. you burst into giggles.

"goodmorning." you laugh, pinching her nipples one last time before letting them go and wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

sevika's still hazy with sleep, blinking at you with wide, owlish eyes as she tries to catch up with what's happening. you give her a second to collect herself, then start grinding on her again. she growls.

"you were havin' a dream about me. i was just gonna dream-land-me get you off and watch you cum in your pants, but you two started havin' too much fun and i got jealous." you explain.

sevika's lips twitch up at the side as she starts to understand, and her hands find your hips, starting to grind you against her cock. you both moan.

"how long do we got?" she asks, her voice still raspy with sleep. your cunt pulses at the sound of it.

"ten minutes to fuck, ten minutes to cuddle, ten minutes to get ready and ten minutes to eat." you say. sevika grins.

"i can work with that." she chuckles. then, she flips both of you, pinning you to the bed and quickly stripping you of the clothes you'd just put on. you giggle, reaching up to thread her finger through her hair.

"tell me about your dream." you request. sevika grins.

"can't remember it all. one second i was eating you out on the conference table in the middle of the meeting, then you were fingering me in some underwater cave?" she asks, scrunching her face as she tries to interpert her dream. you giggle. "i think you were a mermaid." she says, her face pinched as she tries to recall the quickly fading memory.

you laugh, lifting your hips to help her pull your bottoms off. when she's got you naked, she starts kissing up your legs, headed toward your cunt. you sigh, relaxing against the mattress. "how does mermaid sex even work?" you ask.

she chuckles against your thigh, then pokes her head up from between your legs to speak. "you were fingering me, babe, it didn't matter." she explains. then, she dives face first into your cunt.

you gasp, and sevika wastes no time getting you soaking wet and ready for her cock.

you guys fuck on a time-crunch more often than not, and sevika's got working you up down to an art. she's slobbery and messy, groaning against your cunt like this is her breakfast, sucking your clit so hard it makes you see stars, and only letting go when your legs start to shiver, just to duck down and start fucking your hole with her tongue.

"sevika, c'mon." you whine, tugging her hair. she giggles, pulls away and pops two of her fingers in her mouth, smirks at the way you whine, and then shoves them both in your cunt with no warning.

you gasp. "fuck!" sevika finds your g-spot with no effort, pressing against it on each pass as she slurps at your clit. "fuck, sev, get inside me baby, i wanna cum on your cock."

sevika shivers at your words, and she presses one final kiss to your cunt before pulling away and shoving her boxers around her thighs. you make grabby hands at her as she crawls up your body and lines herself up with your cunt.

you reach down and help her find your hole, and both of you gasp when she starts to push in. "fuck." sevika curses. "shit, thank you for wakin' me up baby." she whines as she waits for you to adjust and give her the go ahead. you giggle, and sevika smiles at the sound.

"better than the mermaid?" you ask. sevika barks a laugh, then swoops down to kiss you.

"much better." she whispers against your lips.

"good answer. gonna fuck me now?"

sevika gives you one quick harsh thrust and you squeak. she smirks cockily down at you. "sure you're ready?" she asks.

you snort, then smack her ass. "c'mon babe, we got five minutes. get to it."

sevika kisses you one more time, and then starts fucking you like her life depends on it.

the gentle sounds of morning birds singing outside are quickly drowned out by wet squelching noises, the rhythmic smacking of sevika's hips against your thighs, and your shared moans.

"fuck fuck fuck, baby, 'm not gonna last." sevika whines in your throat. you reach between the two of you to pinch her nipple, giggling when she jolts. "fuck off! don' make me cum!"

"you're my wife, baby, that's like, half my job." you tease, nibbling her earlobe like you know she loves. she whines.

"cut it out! fuck are you gonna do when i cum before you and we gotta get to work before you can finish?" she asks. you consider this, then shove your free hand down between your bodies to rub your clit, your hold on her tit not lessening as you do. sevika half-laughs half-growls. "fucker." she says fondly.

you grin up at her. "come on, cum inside me, i wanna feel it, sev. fuck, i'll put my panties right back on, keep your cum inside me all day. you can clean up the mess when we get home--"

sevika growls, sinks her teeth into your throat, and cums deep inside you. it tips you over the edge.

you gasp at the feeling, giggling as you cum around her cock, satisfaction flooding your body as you fall apart to the feeling of your wife falling apart inside you. "fuck, sev, just like that, good girl, i fuckin' love you!" you laugh.

sevika's tiny thrusts die down as your shaking thighs settle, and she collapses on top of you sighing. you nuzzle against her hair, kissing her scalp. "i love you too." she mumbles. you smile.

"ten minutes, babe. then we gotta go." you remind her, knowing she's tempted to fall asleep. she grunts.

it's quiet for a while, just the gentle sound of your fingers scratching her scalp and the birdsong outside. you wordlessly pass sevika her plate, feeding her bites of eggs as she rests on your tits. she kisses your chest in thanks between each bite.

and then: "were you serious about keepin' my cum in you all day?" she asks. you giggle.

"sure was. when you pull out, if you're quick, you can pick which panties i use to soak you up all day." you bribe. sevika growls and then looks up at you with sparkling eyes.

"we should do this every morning." she says.

you burst into laughter.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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sophiethewitch1 · 10 months ago

Text

What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.

He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.

And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.

But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.

And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.

It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.

It sucked.

Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.

Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.

A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.

And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.

Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.

Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.

And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.

But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.

None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.

The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.

And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.

Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn’t just leave you. Not with the way you were.

You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.

He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.

That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.

Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-

Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.

You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.

Shit. He was not prepared for this.

He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.

He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.

Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.

You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.

Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.

…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.

He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.

You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.

He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.

“Tim.”

Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.

“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.

Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.

“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.

“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.

“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.

“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?

You probably don’t care. You never had about money.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.

“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.

“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”

“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”

“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.

Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.

He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.

He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.

You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.

The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”

You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.

“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.

You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?

It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.

“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”

You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.

“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.

“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.

“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.

He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.

“Oh. Is he the chef?”

“He’s the pâtissier.”

You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.

“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.

“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”

Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”

You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.

Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.

The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.

He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.

“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.

You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.

“It’s my birthday.”

Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”

“Was that- that the wrong answer?”

“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.

“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”

Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them

“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.

“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.

“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.

Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.

You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.

“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.

“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”

You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.

“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.

“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.

It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.

“Who was that man?” you finally ask.

“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.

You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.

Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.

And you immediately fall sideways.

Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.

Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.

“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.

“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.

“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”

He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?

He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.

He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.

“You can let go of me now. Please?”

Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.

“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.

Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”

You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.

Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.

Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.

‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?

‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?

‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao

‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.

‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway

‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?

Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.

‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?

‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something

Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.

He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.

He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.

The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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ambivalence-is-me · 3 months ago

Text

Your Power (1)

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Meeting Azriel and the inner circle was not in your plans by any means. But it happened and it was not your brightest moment.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: mentions of death

A/N: Had this idea for a while and wanted to get it out! I haven’t read Silver Flames soo anything that might seem out of place is totally on purpose. I apologize for any (all) grammatical error :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘’YOU!’’

Azriel saw you the second you started walking their way. Your wide-eyed friend behind you trying to keep up with your drunk self. As always, he was on high alert even when his family told him to relax and enjoy the night. So, when he saw where you were headed, he quickly analyzed the situation and realized you weren’t a threat, even more as your friend tried to get you to stop.

He looked at Rhys, who in return raised an eyebrow at you and gave you his charming smile, and then back at you and decided to entertain the scene before him.

‘’You’ve forgotten about us, you know that right?! How can you continue to act all high and mighty while the rest of us are breaking down more and more each day!’’

You had one finger pointing at Rhys, your other hand bunched up in a fist on your side. They (Azriel, Rhys, Cassian, Feyre and Mor. The rest of the inner circle didn’t bother to go out that night and join them at Rita’s) all knew you were drunk but you were looking at them so fiercely, your voice never quivered, you definitely had all of their attention.

‘’Yes, you saved us but for what? To cast us aside when you’re done?’’ You looked to Feyre then. ‘’And you! I had such high hopes for you! A high lady yes, go females! But you’ve done the same!’’

Azriel saw how Rhys stopped smiling the second you turned to his mate, still recognizing that you were all bark and no bite but knowing how Feyre was going to save every single word you were saying in her brain and was going to overthink it later. Clearly, the amount of drinks you’ve had didn’t make you forget you were currently yelling at the High Lord and High Lady.

‘’Velaris needs you, the people need you! So do something about it!’’ With this, you finally dropped your hand, looked at them one last time before storming away. Your friend, once again, running after you not wanting to look at them after what you had done. She knew you were going to regret this outburst the next day.

And you did.

The second you woke up the next day, everything came rushing back and you wished you had a hangover so you wouldn’t have to think about it. A hangover sounded a thousand times better than thinking about how foolish and stupid you looked the night before.

Like, really? To go to the inner circle’s table, drunk, and yell at the high lord and lady? Surely, they were either going to forget about it or kill you. Or maybe they’d kill you and THEN forget about the incident. Sure, that’s what was going to happen.

But you quickly dismissed the idea when two days passed and nothing happened. Your life went back to normal and that was it. As if, the encounter you had with Velaris’ (and probably all of Prythian’s) most powerful fae was nothing. It probably was, you were just another common fae.

So, two days passed and you put it on the back of your mind focusing on your duties. Today, first thing you must do is drop off your nephew at school.

On Tuesday mornings, your sister-in-law wakes up before the sunrise to get ingredients for the shop meaning she couldn’t take your nephew to school. Therefore, you volunteered to do it. You loved your nephew and would do anything for him and his mother. Anything to make their lives easier. Sometimes your mom would join you but most times, it was just you and you were more than okay with that, savoring all the time you can with your nephew.

‘’Excellent! You’re gonna ace that test, kid’’. You sent him a big smile, squeezing the hand you were holding as you made your way to the school.

‘’I hope so. Mom said she’d let join her to the meadows if I did.’’ Of course he was interested in joining his mother. Like her, he loved nature and everything it provided them. He said he wanted to follow her footsteps and he was unknowingly also following his father's.

Your brother.

‘’Then you better get your boots ready, kid. I’m positive you’re gonna do great.’’

He gave you a big smile. He had your brother’s smile and you loved that about him. It made you feel like he was always there with you. It made missing him hurt less, even if years had already passed.

Both of you continue the walk to school. Talking about anything and everything. Like you, he was a yapper. But not everyone got to see that side of you. Many said you were quiet but that’s only because you don’t trust easily. Once you trust someone then they couldn’t get you to shut up. It was one of the many things that made you, you.

As you were nearing the school, your nephew stopped. ‘’What was that?’’

You looked at him confused ‘’What was what?’’

He looked around as if trying to locate whatever thing he saw. ‘’ I don’t know. It looked like a shadow’’. You looked at him even more confused. A shadow?

‘’Maybe it was a dragon’’ He looked at you unamused. ‘’Dragons don’t exist, Aunt Y/N’’.

‘’Maybe they should’’ you murmured under your breath. You shook your head and forgot about it as you looked at the school. You sighed. ‘’All right, kid. Go in there and do everything I wouldn’t do.’’

He gave you a look. ‘’You’re not supposed to encourage that’’. He was so mature for being so young.

You giggled and gave him a push towards school. ‘’Give ‘em hell! I’ll see you later!’’ You waved and sent him a kiss goodbye.

Once he was inside, you made your way to work.

Before you were even born, your family owned an apothecary shop. Your mother made sure you and your brother knew all about the family business as you were growing up. Your father passed away when you were a babe, having no recollection of him. Therefore, your mother ran the business until you or your brother were old enough to take care of it.

Growing up, you knew quickly that you wanted to do nothing with it. Nature was not your thing, you had great respect for it but it didn’t come naturally to you the way it did for your brother. He loved it and he loved spending time in the shop with your mother learning about it.

They had decided then that he was to stay with the shop once he was of age and finished his studies. You, on the other hand, gravitated to another side: music and arts. You loved anything that had to do with music: listening, playing, creating it; you name it. If there was music, you’d be there. A trait you’d inherited from your father, that’s what mother always said.

You had a job at a music shop and you loved it. It was everything you ever wanted and you were SO SURE that the man that owned it was going to promote you and one day maybe even give it to you. You wanted to take care of it, of the instruments, of the stories behind them. The shop had nights where the people would come and play together creating beautiful music. You wanted to play in all of them. Music was one of the things that made you extremely happy.

But then the war happened and your brother died.

And all of your plans to stay at the music shop died with him. You couldn’t stay there and let your family business die with him too. Your mother, nephew and sister-in-law were heart broken (as were you, of course. Heart broken doesn’t even come close) and you knew they were in no shape to run the shop.

So, there you went and stepped up to the plate. It was very hard at first to get the hang of it. You weren’t your brother, you didn’t have the same patience or love for it but eventually, you made it through. A year later, your sister-in-law decided to work there as well, saying that it made her feel closer to her husband.

You understand her completely, because sometimes you feel like he was there. It made you somewhat happy that you didn’t give up on the shop, on his dream even if you had to give up yours. Also, you have so much respect for her, not imagining how it must feel to love someone (romantically) so deeply, someone you swore was going to be with you for eternity and then having them gone so unexpectedly. Never to see them again.

You had your flings sure, but in all your centuries of being alive, you had never fallen in love the way your brother and sister-in-law were. Their love story was one of the most beautiful stories you’ve ever experienced and you hope to have one yourself one day. But until then, your day must go on.

‘’Good morning!’’ You said to Sabrina, one of the faes that also worked in the shop. She looked at you and smiled back.

‘’Morning, boss!’’ She was younger than you by a few centuries and you enjoyed having her in the shop. Somehow, she was always up to date with the town’s gossip so it was great to yap with her.

‘’How was your night, huh? That male still thinks you’re his mate?’’

She gave you a mischievous smile and a wink. ‘’Oh yeah, you should’ve see him. I got him to fix my bathroom sink. For free of course’’. Oh yeah, she scared you as well. She was a beautiful fae (and she knew it). With eyes and body that resembled siren’s, she could have any male she wanted and somehow tricked them into believing they were mates. Like a siren would indeed.

You thought it was both hilarious and dumb. You’ve heard tales of mating bonds, of how precious, powerful and extremely rare they were. And yet, somehow the males believed Sabrina when she would tell them that she was their mate.

‘’Males are dumb and will believe anything you say to them so long you give them attention’’ She would always say. She was right in one thing for sure, males are dumb.

‘’You’re evil’’. You said with a laugh and went inside the office of the shop.

Ugh, this work was so boring and tedious, you thought. How did your brother enjoy this? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you sighed and started working.

Until about 20 minutes later, Sabrina stormed inside the office. You looked up at her confused, she wasn’t one to barge in like that.

‘’Yes? What’s wrong?’’ She was wide eyed, mouth opening as if she’d seen a ghost. So, you told her just that. ‘’You look like you’ve seen a ghost’’.

‘’Shadows actually’’ She whispered. You looked at her even more confused. Shadows? Like the ones your nephew saw this morning?

‘’Shadows?’’

‘’Shadowsinger’’

‘’Shadowsinger? Sabrina, you’re not making any sense’’. Truly, she was scaring you. Shadowsinger, what the heck did she mean?

‘’He’s here!’’ She whispered yelled. ‘’The high lord’s Shadowsinger. He’s here and he’s looking for you’’. Her frightened eyes never steering from yours.

The high lord’s-what? But then, it all clicked in. Your eyes and mouth opened wide.

‘’Shit shit shit’’ you whispered yelled as well. Standing up from the chair and pacing in front of Sabrina.

‘’What did you do?!’’ the whisper-yells continued.

But you weren’t listening to her, you were replaying that Mother’s awful night in your mind. ‘’I’m gonna die, he’s gonna kill me’’. You whispered and Sabrina let out a squeak, hands quickly going to her mouth.

‘’No! You can’t! I can’t lose this job, Y/N! I’m still so young. Oh my Mother. Who’s gonna tell your mother? I can’t tell her! She scares me.’’ Sabrina continued her rambling, you listening to bits and pieces and further feeling fear run through your body.

‘’My sister-in-law is ready to take over okay? Just, make sure you hide my body and everything will be okay. You’ll make sure of that right?’’ In another scenario, this would be downright funny to you but right now, you actually believed that the male behind the door (who was probably listening to all of this) was actually going to murder you.

Sabrina shook her head repeatedly, motioning with her hands as well. ‘’Absolutely not. That is a lot of responsibility here. I’m technically a witness here! What if he kills me too?’’ After saying that, she froze, and you saw how pale her face was getting at the thought of dying at the hands of the Shadowsinger.

So once again, you had to step up and be the strong one. With that thought, you stilled.

Okay so you were drunk and decided to go to the most powerful high lord (and high lady) and told them off. Not your brightest decision, clearly, but everything you said that night was true. It was what all of the citizens of Velaris were thinking but no one had dared to say out loud, specially directly to the rulers of the city.

After the first attack the city suffered, Velaris was a slowly sinking ship and it seemed like the inner circle wasn’t paying attention to it or its citizens. But you were. Because you were also one of them, another citizen. But you were very observant and most importantly, you listened. You listened to their troubles, fears and never ending grief. You and your family were all testament to that. So when it seemed like time kept passing and no one was stepping up, you said something.

Drunk, mind you, but it was said. So, if one of the most powerful faes of all time was there to kill you, then you’d find a sense of pride amidst all of the fear inside you, and then die knowing you tried to help the people of Velaris.

Even if they would never know.

‘’Let him in’’ You stated after clearing your throat.

Sabrina’s eyes stayed wide open. ‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’He’s not going to want to kill me in front of you okay? I- just’’ You sighed, none of this was making sense. ‘’Just let him in, please’’.

But both of you knew that there was no other choice but to let him in. So with that, Sabrina nodded, looked at you as if it was the last time she ever would, and walked out to get the male.

You struggled to stay still, hands fidgeting, looking straight at the door and swallowing down fear. Any moment now, he was going to walk in and death-

Holy Cauldron, he was the most gorgeous male you’ve ever seen.

You quickly replayed that night in your mind, trying to remember if he looked as good as he looks now but truthfully, your vision was hazy and focused only on Rhysand and Feyre. You were honestly glad of that, that you were so focused on your goal and not exactly looking at him because if you did, you’d cower and retreat at the sight of his beauty.

He was one beautiful intimidating male, that’s for sure. And one who was here on a mission.

‘’Hello’’ You squeaked out. Quickly clearing your throat and recovering (trying to at least). ‘’Is there anything I can help you with?’’

The fact that this female, the same one who had the balls to go up to his high lord and tell him off without a second thought, is the very same female who is now standing before him and looking at him like she wanted to run away, had him fighting a smile.

He’s a male who takes his job very seriously, known for being closed off and stoic. So when Rhys sent him to find the female who had left an impression on all of them and whose words stroke a nerve, he did it without a second thought. It wasn’t that hard to find you, he was really good at his job and also, your family business was well known in Velaris. People knew who you were and even though not all of them knew the real you, they knew you were a kind, caring and hard-working fae.

After finding everything he could about you, he reported back to Rhysand and Feyre. You were born and raised in Velaris, good grades, even better behavior, worked at a music shop, were now the owner of the apothecary, mother stayed at home, no father, has a sister-in-law who works at the shop, has a nephew, brother dead, no husband (that he could find at least). You were just another common fae. A really pretty one, one of his shadows had whispered to him.

He agreed.

He could see you getting antsier the longer it took him to reply. So with an raised eyebrow, he extended his hand toward you that held a parchment you had failed to see when you were too busy ogling at him and wondering if the death was going to be a painful one.

You saw it now. You also saw his hands. The rumors were true then. They were filled with scars, you wondered for a second how they must feel to touch.

Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you cleared your throat and stepped closer to take the parchment. ‘’Um-okay, thank you’’.

Really? Your thanking him for what exactly? You grabbed it and looked at it for a second before staring back at him. Not wanting to lose the opportunity to stare at his eyes up close.

Those rumors were also true. His hazel eyes were absolutely beautiful. For Mother’s sake, did he have an ugly bone in his body?!, you thought.

‘’Open it’’ How can someone so beautiful and intimidating make you feel things with just their voice? Is this what his prisoners feel before they die?

You could listen to him talk all day, but his reputation tells you that he’s not one to talk much, not like you. Which is exactly what you’re going to start doing if you continue to stand in his presence.

You weren’t sure if he was going to stand for your yapping. ‘’Oh! Sure-okay.’’ Clearing your throat once again, you looked away from his eyes and finally focused on the piece of parchment.

Opening and reading it, you gasped and your eyes widened.

‘’Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

We are inviting you to a formal meeting that will be held in two days, morning time at The Library. Please confirm with Azriel of your attendance.

We eagerly await your presence.

Rhysand and Feyre

High Lord and High Lady of the Night’s Court. ‘’

A meeting? With you? For what? Do they all want to have a part in your death?

You really need to stop thinking that they’re going to kill you, they would have done it by now…right?

Your ongoing thoughts were definitely not helping with the nerves. Why the heck did they want to meet with you?

Reading it a third time, you saw the name Azriel and assumed this was the Shadowsinger standing right before you and patiently waiting for your response.

Right, response. You’re supposed to confirm your attendance. But, were you going to go? Were you really going to say no to your high lord and lady? You might’ve been brave when you were under the influence but any other day you weren’t exactly courageous or anything. But what was at stake here? Maybe this was your chance to apologize for that night. You weren’t going to apologize for saying the truth but perhaps how it was delivered. Okay sure, you can do that..right?

‘’Right-umm’’. You looked at the male before you, noticing the brightness of his hazel eyes and was that amusement? Was he..amused by all of this?

‘’I’ll be there’’. You decided. Fuck, you weren’t sure about this. But it was out there, Azriel heard it and was sure going to report it back.

Azriel nodded and took a step back from you.

You were glad of the extra breathing space. It was still early, how the heck were you supposed to focus during the rest of the day?

‘’I wouldn’t leave your body here, I’d hide it. Can’t leave evidence behind’’

Did he just make a joke? Of your death? He obviously heard you and Sabrina then. And the male had the audacity to find it funny!

So, the cold and ruthless Shadowsinger had humor then…a dark one it seems. Interesting.

Too shock to reply to that, you saw a hint of a smile on his face before he quickly hid it and left. Leaving you with a memory of his eyes and smile engraved in your brain.

What the fuck did you agree to?

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel one shot #acotar #azriel angst #azriel fluff #acotar fanfiction

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dilfartist · 1 year ago

Text

A foolish endeavor

Pairing; Yandere Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You manage to snag Miguel’s gizmo and escape to another universe. How long will it take before he, or the spider society, find you?

Word count; 2.8k

Reader description; Female/GN

TW; kidnapping, probably terrible spanish (i did use sources Spanish-speaking users suggested), non-con touching, yandere themes, dark writing.

Notes; {if i mistranslated any of the spanish please do contact me in my DMs. I wanted this fic to be better but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Did not proofread.}

Midnight coated New York in a dark blue hue. Most nights the city lights illuminate the darkness, providing the ability to see. However, the motel you find yourself ambling to is the more isolated part of the city.

Rain poured down heavily, producing cacophonous echoes of raindrops slamming against the concrete. Clad in a drenched hoodie and damp black yoga pants, you scurry to the other side of the street just in time to avoid being hit by the passing truck.

Cigarette smoke and frigid rain overwhelm your senses, mainly due to the cigarette buds scattered on the motel parking lot.

The motel is okay looking. By no means does it look nice, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Guess this is where I’ll sleep tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You take a brief glance at your surroundings. Night overcame the sky, giving the atmosphere a dark hue but the lights gave you a clear standpoint.

Numerous lights hummed irritatingly, not even a minute passed and you found yourself obtaining a headache. You navigate the main office, which is on the left side of the horseshoe-shaped building, and a blue neon sign points in the direction of the office. You started sauntering over, putting pep in your step when the cold rain declined heavier than it did the last five minutes.

Six months ago, you wouldn’t be having this problem. At least that’s what you believed. You could’ve been at your apartment, catching up on a show you’ve failed to complete thanks to your busy work schedule.

Unfortunately for you, doing a task as simple as watching your television, in your home, was truly impossible. Why? Because the earth you roam isn’t yours, to begin with. Your apartment isn’t yours. The job you work isn’t yours. You aren’t certain you even exist in this universe.

You can’t find the strength to complain. Honestly, you’re delighted to be away from the man who stole you away from society.

Miguel O’Hara.

Otherwise known as Spiderman 2099. You know, the superhero.

It must be confusing to hear that a superhero kidnaped a poor civilian. Superheros don’t normally commit unforgivable acts. Regardless, Miguel didn't care. Miguel is aware he is different from other heroes given his beliefs. Abducting you was just one of the many wrongs Miguel fulfilled.

You just wished you knew his motives at the beginning. If you did, you wouldn't have to search for sanctuary. You wouldn't have to lie low in a different universe.

Before Miguel, you lived a decent life that included a decent job. It was a Tuesday afternoon with sunny weather and clear skies. Your friends invited you to a picnic at the park and, for once having a clear schedule you agreed. You recall the sun beaming down on you, overheating your body to the point shade was a necessity. You moved from the picnic blanket to a nearby bent tree. One moment you're enjoying the shade, the next you're falling. Then something transpired. You jerked in the air, something white clinging to the front of your shirt. You felt your body floating in the air, legs thrashing in fear when your body conceded it was in mid-air.

You must have fainted because you have no recollection of what transpired next. What you do remember was watching through bleary eyes as four strangers hovered over you clearly disputing. Currently, you know them by Jessica Drew, Peter B. Parker, the iron spider, And Miguel O’Hara.

The accountability for your well-being somehow landed in the hands of Miguel. In the beginning, Miguel had such a short patience for you, not that he didn't possess an attitude with anyone else, he just happened to have a really short fuse with you.

His explosive temper with you was undeserving. You hardly gave him any reason to blow up. Your presence alone just pissed him off, at least it appeared so.

You avoided him as much as possible; Departing a room when he entered. Ensuring any errands were accomplished before he arrived home, so you didn't have to leave your room to aggravate him.

Then he began to seek you out; popping up wherever you were in his apartment. Alone watching television on the couch? Not anymore. Miguel joined you on the other side silently watching as well. Sitting silently in the dining room eating lunch? Miguel enters with a bowl of cereal, starting a conversation about the day’s news. Enjoy video games and decide to play by yourself? Miguel grabs a controller and questions the rules and certain controls.

For someone who was as snappy at you as a feral dog, he sure did like to invade your solitude.

By the second month of staying at Miguel’s, he found solace in your presence. He became relaxed. Nice even. And then by the fourth month, you became friends. You never visualized being anything other than friends, but unbeknownst to you, Miguel did.

When you first caught the news of Peter figuring out what universe you belonged to, you were ecstatic. After all, the mystery of your universe's number had been the sole reason for crashing with Miguel and not immediately returning home.

You turned to Miguel, asking when was the appropriate time to drop you off. To your astonishment, Miguel’s brows furrowed, and his lips morphed into a grimace, “you will not be returning.” he affirmed.

Miguel shocked not only you, but everyone witnessing the scene. A gauche silence conquered the atmosphere.

You and Miguel stared at each other for a beat, then you voiced your perplexity. “What do you mean “I will not be returning?” Miguel, I need to go home.” you took a step closer to Miguel.

Miguel gazed at you with an uninterested stare. “What I say goes, (Name). And I say you're staying here.” he spun around, returning to whatever he had been working on before. “We all have a busy schedule and dropping you off will only alter it.”

“It’s not worth it,” he said like he was ending the conversation.

“Okay, then Peter can take me home when he needs to drop off Mayday.” you insisted, looking over at Peter to see if he’d be alright with your plan.

No expression was needed for you to catch on to the attitude Miguel began to gain. “(Name), I won’t tell you twice. The answer is no. Now, Peter take her back to my apartment. We’ll speak about the matter later, at the moment there are more important issues happening.”

You found it laughable. To think the minute you stepped into the man's sight he wanted you gone, but now Miguel was fighting you to stay with him. Ironic, isn’t it?

That night you and Miguel, the very moment he came inside his apartment, quarreled for an hour in a half. Your argument being you did not belong to him and could do whatever you pleased. Miguel’s argument was the insignificance of the matter to him.

You detected Miguel’s temper was starting to get out of hand. The way his fists began to clench, the way his brows creased, and the frown deepened after every sentence he uttered. You’ve seen his strength. His fierceness. And you’d rather leave than have any of his tantrums directed at you. Doing what any rational person would do, you attempted to leave the room. You advised him to de-stress before speaking to you again.

Miguel was having none of it. Not even a second passed before you were yanked back by the forearm.

You’re face-to-face with Miguel. Miguel towered over you, looking down at you with his signature red piercing stare. He bends down, momentarily staring at you until he finally speaks. “I can't allow you to leave.” The way he talks is low and if the room weren't already quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “I love you,” he confessed, voice cracking, closing his eyes as if it pained him to say it. He opened his eyes again. “And I won't allow myself to lose any other person I care for.”

Pulling twenty dollars out of the torn-up wallet you found on the side of the road, you slide it forward on the mahogany brown table. The fatigued receptionist glances at the money, then gazes at you with an irked expression.

“This isn’t enough.” She states matter-of-factly. She slides the twenty back to you.

You purse your lips, staring down at the cash. Twenty dollars is all you had. What were you to do now? The next nearest motel could be miles away; it was a miracle you made it to this.

Your eyes flicker back to her. You take two fingers pushing it back to her, giving her your best puppy eyes. “Please! I don't have anywhere else to go tonight. If I can’t stay here I’ll have to sleep on the streets.”

You were lying. You would’ve taken off by dawn, needing to be on the move after getting rested.

Her hardened expression softens. She takes a deep breath, eyes studying the money. Shaking her head, she takes the cash. “One night only, alright?”

You propose to her a smile, nodding with gratitude. She allotted you a key. A small golden-greenish key, with the number five engraved on the head. Tonight you’d sleep on the grounded floor of the motel.

The inside was decently prepared, having a dingy tone that gave off a haunted vibe. You hum in displeasure. Two queen-sized mattresses are positioned on the right side of the wall. They appeared stiff, and the blankets laying upon them looked thinner than a sheet of paper.

Sighing, you softly booted the door shut. Flopping down on the nearest bed, you groan at the sensation of the rough mattress.

When tomorrow comes you’d have to find a fresh location. Miguel could continually find your locale, thanks to not only Lyla but the whole Spider society. Perhaps you postponed his search this time. His watch or gizmo- whatever the hell it was- rests on your wrist.

Shifting your head to the side, pulling your hand out of your pocket, you glance at the gizmo.

Tightly clutched in Miguel’s hold, you stare quietly at the ceiling. You debate acting on your next actions. There were times Miguel slept lightly, aroused by creaks in the floorboard. Other times when the sound of glass shattering did not bother him even a little.

Glancing down at the arm wrapped securely around your midriff, you endeavor to gradually lift his arm up. He unconsciously retaliates, arms consolidating, resulting in a small gasp slipping from your lips. You’re quick to rub his arm, to offer him comfort, and to calm him.

It works. Miguel grumbles, his grasp faulting. You carefully move his arm aside, then unhurriedly get up from the bed.

Before leaving the room you observe Miguel. Miguel sleeps soundly, an angry expression inscribed on his face. But he is asleep, so you take your chance while you are able.

Tiptoeing into the kitchen, you immediately spot the gizmo on the marble counter. Compared to the technology you have at home, it was top-notched, a huge improvement. Of course, he lived in the year 2099. Obviously, there would be a difference in technology.

You grabbed the gizmo, examining the complexity. From monitoring the spider people using them, you know it’ll take you wherever universe you request. Great. However, you weren’t a spider person. If you teleported in the middle of the air, you couldn't grapple on the closest object with a web. Or claw your way down a building

Fuck it.

If dying meant escaping him, then so be it.

You didn’t really mean that. Every time you went to teleport to a different universe, you cringed retreating your hand.

“Jesus! Alright, I'm doing this!” you softly berated yourself. Bracing for the impact of the possible fall you might face, you shut your eyes tight and twisted the gizmo. “Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground, Please be on the ground!” you cried.

How long would it take them to find you? How far could you get?

God, being on the run was stressful.

Your eyes flutter closed, plush pillows luling your tired mind. ‘I should get some sleep’ you thought. Warmth spread throughout your numbing body, as you finally permitted yourself to sleep.

When you awake gasping for air, almost as if you’d been suffocating. Instantly you arise, a hand rushing to your chest confirming it still thumped with a beating heart. Your skin is sticky with cold sweat, making your clothes uncomfortably cling to your body. “What the fuck?” you barely uttered, mouth arid.

Suddenly you had a gut feeling to check the window. You stand, groggily walking toward the large window adjacent to the front door. Pinching the hem of the curtain, you haul it aside.

The night is still pristine, the stars glowing in the dark sky. Nothing seems out of place. And yet you continue to have that gut feeling. Look outside, there’s something outside. Your eyes move to the parking lot.

You see it.

Blue and red. Something blue and red is making its way toward the motel. Squinting, you can make out what it is. Miguel. It's Miguel!

“Oh, shit!” you expressed, dropping the curtain. Wasting no time you locked the bottom and top locks. You veered around, frantically searching for a place to hide. You are no fool. Locking the door was simply a distraction; Miguel would tear the door off its hinges in a second.

Hiding underneath the bed is a childish strategy. That and hiding underneath the covers. Still, you drop to your knees, squeezing underneath the bed, using the blankets to cover any spaces revealing you. Pressing the palm of your hand against both your mouth and nose, you listen closely to everything around you.

At first, all you hear is the air conditioning blowing cool air, and the people next door’s baby weeping. Then you hear it. The doorknob oscillation. Your eyes widen, fear causing your breath to hitch. When the door refuses to open, the person behind the door commences kicking in the door. One kick achieves them access to the room. The door slams against the wall, shaking the ground, sending a vibration under you.

“¿Qué carajo?” you know that voice anywhere. It’s Miguel speaking in his native language. A habit Miguel has when he’s angered or stressed. “¿Dónde está ella?” Miguel snaps, striding into the room with anger-powered steps.

You can see through the tiny slit in the blankets, Miguel turning to the table where you placed the gizmo. Miguel picks up the gizmo, putting it back on his wrist.

He shifts his concentration to finding you. He calls out your name, malice dripping from the way he shouts it. He disappears from sight, presumingly moving on to the bathroom. Many things are heard being tossed around. Miguel probably was looking for evidence of you staying here, apart from the gizmo.

You gather the courage to, oh, so carefully stretch your leg out, then proceed to quietly shuffle from under the bed. You waste no time, rushing out the door, feet bare without socks or shoes. The gravel burns the soles of your feet, scraping and imprinting on the skin.

You practically succeeded in leaving the lot until you caught a glimpse of what stalked behind you. On all fours, Miguel sprinted at you, claws scuffing the concrete, like a predator running after its prey.

“Holy shit! What the actual fuck!” you panic aloud, taking your eye off what was in front of you, your mind solely focusing on the man hunting you. Big mistake on your part. A concrete parking block is in your way, but you don’t see it. You jolt forward, tripping over the block, your other foot catching you before you hit the road.

Just when you thought you still had the chance of running away, you’re sorely mistaken. Miguel pounces on you, and the clash of your bodies colliding results in Miguel tumbling down the road, you secure in his arms.

The tumble ends; you’re struggling not to vomit, head resting on Miguel’s firm chest. The world spins. It’s easy to forget your position when the urge to throw up is fresh.

Miguel holds your head, pressing a myriad of kisses on every part of the skin visible, muttering with his eyes closed. “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.” He sounds so frantic, reciting those same words, his tongue stumbling over the utterances.

His eyelids raise, uncovering his red orbs. He presses his forehead against yours, staring deeply into your eyes. It’s a domestic stunt that makes your stomach churn. “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.” he huffs, then continues, “I’m happy you’re alright. I don’t know what I'd do if I lost you, mi alma.”

Taking your hand, he places a soft kiss on the back. “Had an anomaly harmed you, I would have ripped their fucking throat out!”

————————

Translations

- “¿Qué carajo?”/ what the fuck?

- “¿Dónde está ella?”/ where is she?

- “Debería estar furioso contigo, pero no lo estoy.”/ I should be furious with you, but I'm not.

- “Gracias a Dios que estás bien.”/ thank god you’re okay.

- mi alma/ my soul

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riot-ghost · 1 year ago

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Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months ago

Text

no time

jenni hermoso x reader. jenni is feeling neglected by how much time r is spending away from her, focused on football and getting her degree. jenni decides r is avoiding her, and pulls away too. eventually, it all becomes too much for r, who is feeling the pressure from everyone and everything. i would say teeny amount of angst and majority amount of fluff. for all the underfed jenni girls 😌😌

-----

Jenni knew you were busy. She knew you had a million things going on, and that the lack of time you’d been spending her was probably completely unintentional. A more insecure part of her worried that it was intentional, but she tried to quiet that part down. The Spaniard came across as a very outgoing, confident individual, and for the most part, she was. In her relationships, though, she had an issue with asking for what she needed, just like you did. She craved your attention and your company, but something inside of her just… wouldn’t let her ask for it.

And it wasn’t like Jenni wasn’t trying to spend time with you. She’d come into the office while you were studying, trying to convince you to take a break. In the past few weeks, the answer had been no. You were drowning in school work, with practices picking up in frequency and intensity for the team. When you did have time to focus on school, you were always rather exhausted. Adding another 2 classes to your course load this term had been a mistake if you’d ever made one. Instead of the two you normally took, sometimes three, you were taking four. Four more classes, and you’d be done with your degree, fulfilling your promise to your parents to have a backup plan in case football didn’t work out. Maybe you didn’t deserve a degree. It was pretty idiotic to come to the conclusion that four classes wasn’t that much more than two.

Jenni had never cared for school, getting it done as soon as she could. She loved you, a lot, but she couldn’t really comprehend the deeply ingrained need you had to get your degree, and get perfect marks. She was supportive nonetheless, but she didn’t really quite understand what another two classes would entail. For the first part of the term, it had been manageable. Now, things had piled up, and you were absolutely drowning.

You were a perfectionist, and you’d do anything to make sure your university work was perfect, your football was perfect, at the expense of everything. Even your own wellbeing. And, apparently, Jenni’s wellbeing too, although you weren’t quite aware of the toll your lack of time spent with her was causing.

It was really a lack of communication that caused things to bubble over.

Jenni felt neglected. And you wanted nothing more than for her to pull you away from your late night study sessions and remind you to put yourself first, because you were sure you couldn’t do it yourself. If either of you had just spoken to the other, it would have been resolved so easily. Jenni would have realized that you needed her, but were too stressed to really know what you needed. And you would have realized that giving Jenni space wasn’t some kind of gift for her, and that she would be happy to sit next to you while you studied and just keep you company. Communication was an area that your relationship tended to struggle, though. It was a work in progress, and this situation clearly presented where there was still progress to be made.

-----

As you typed away at your computer, you again wondered why on earth you had added classes. Another term would have been worth it, if only to avoid this hell. It was Tuesday, and you had 3 essays due on Sunday. The week was stuffed full of training and extra workouts, though, and then the team was traveling for an away game. Everything had to be done by Friday, or it wouldn’t get done, and that wasn’t an option.

Not only did it have to be done, it had to be perfect. There was no possibility of halfassing any assignment. You’d tried before, but you always ended up redoing it until it was perfect, and it was just much easier to do it the first time around.

You had just finished the first essay, which was at the very end of the page limit. It was up to your standards, you decided, reading over it once more before turning it in. You should have felt relieved, that one of the things hanging over your head was now completed. Instead, you could only look to the next essay, and the one after that. And the exam next week, the project the week after. It was so easy to get overwhelmed if you thought too hard about everything, so you did your best to focus on each task one at a time.

Perhaps it was this very narrow view of your life that had you not really thinking about your girlfriend in the other room. She’d been waiting for you to emerge from the office all afternoon, only getting you to take a short break to eat.

She just wanted to spend time with you. Catch up on a show, or hold you on the couch and talk. It didn’t make any sense to her, why couldn't you just put the schoolwork down for one night, and pay attention to her. Maybe you would have, if she’d just asked for it. Instead, she sat quietly in the living room, trying her best not to cry as her feelings began to overwhelm her. Was she really that horrible to spend time with? That her own girlfriend preferred mindless busy work to being with her?

Deciding to end her pity party, she wiped at her eyes, checking in the front hall mirror that there were no visible tear marks, before she made a very pathetic attempt to get your attention. It wasn’t very late, but training had been grueling today, and Jenni knew that if she was tired, you must be exhausted.

“Mi amor?” Jenni called from the doorway of the office. “Are you coming to bed?”

You didn’t even turn your head away from the screen in front of you for a full 20 seconds, and when you finally did, it was to stare almost blankly at your girlfriend. “Huh?”

“I was just- I’m going to bed now. Goodnight.” Before you could reply, Jenni was turning around and heading down the hall towards the bedroom. No goodnight kiss, no request for you to join her. You blinked after her, struck by how cold she’d just been with you. Now that you thought about it, she’d been like that for a few days, and you hadn’t noticed.

You turned back to your outline, copying lines from your notes mindlessly as you tried to figure out the source of Jenni’s frustration. Of course, you settled on yourself. You were a disaster at the moment, and you knew that. The only logical thing you could come up with was that Jenni was just… annoyed with having to deal with you like this. There were only a few weeks left of term, and you decided to try to bother her as little as possible until then. Once school was over, for good, you could go back to being the smiley, relaxed girlfriend Jenni was used to. The one Jenni preferred.

You had very little clarity of when you fell asleep. One second, you were typing away, eyes drooping. The next, you were facedown asleep, your face smushed into your keyboard.

Jenni managed to fall asleep without you next to her, but did not remain that way for long. After only two hours she woke, frowning to herself when she realized the bed was still practically made on your side. With a sigh, she dragged herself from bed and walked down to the office, prepared to drag you to bed if she had to. Even if you were avoiding her, she had to put her foot down somewhere; this was bordering on unhealthy.

She trudged into the office, lips curving into a small smile as she noticed you out cold on your laptop. It didn’t look very comfortable, and the quiet inhales and marks on your cheek told her you’d been asleep for a solid amount of time.

“Amor,” Jenni sang, her voice soft and loving as she roused you from a deep sleep.

“Jen?” You picked your head up, blinking groggily up at her, and winced at the knot that had appeared in your neck. You’d fallen asleep, you realized. It was dark in the room, and Jenni’s face was half hidden by shadows. It was unreadable, and you cursed yourself internally for immediately breaking the promise you’d made to yourself just a few hours prior. The promise to not make Jenni suffer through your stress along with you. She must be so upset with you, having to come check on you like you were a child. Still, Jenni was kind and you knew that the way she carefully picked you up and cradled you to her chest didn’t mean she still wasn’t annoyed. It didn’t mean you weren’t being too much for her, it just meant Jenni was a good person.

“Let’s go to bed, sí?” She cooed, carrying you down the hall.

You nodded into her chest, allowing yourself a moment of comfort. You fought against the tightness in your throat and the moisture in your eyes as you realized just how exhausted you were, not wanting to make the situation any worse. Warmth filled your girlfriend’s chest at the feeling of having you so close to her again, but that feeling faded quickly when she placed you down on the bed, and you immediately rolled to the edge of your side. As far from her as possible.

This cemented it in her mind, honestly. That you were avoiding her on purpose, using your school work as an excuse. And you were only more sure that she was tired of how much stress you brought to her life when she didn’t curl her body around yours, as she normally did. Both of you were miserable as you drifted off, completely incorrectly convinced that the other person was angry.

-----

You were not a morning person, but your girlfriend was. It was your daily routine at this point for her to wake you up in the morning, a mug of coffee in her hand and a soft smile on her face, dimples just barely peeking out. Or, you’d wake to her curled around you, her breaths steady puffs on your neck. Never, never, did you wake to nothing. No Jenni at all. Your alarm went off, and you groaned, feeling that the few hours of sleep were not enough. You were barely conscious, rolling onto the other side of the bed in search of your girlfriend’s warm body. Nothing.

Waiting a beat, you listened for her footsteps coming up the stairs. Nothing. Minutes passed with no appearances from the striker, and you rolled over towards the bedside table, grabbing your phone. Her location showed her already at the training grounds, a full hour early. You pictured her taking free kicks from all over the pitch, the same scowl on her face she always got when she was worked up about something. You loved that scowl, despite the cause of it. You liked to make it turn into a huge grin, one that brought out the dimples on her cheeks.

God you missed her. Suddenly, with full force, you missed her deeply. Though you’d seen her last night, it felt like you’d been gone for weeks. You supposed you had, too caught up in your school work to think of much else. You wondered if she missed you, too, or if she was glad for the break.

No way to know, you decided, even though there very clearly was. Deciding that you could get a bit of your next essay done before you had to get ready for training, you dragged yourself out of bed and down the hall to get some coffee. There was some left on the counter for you, in a mug that had Jenni’s face on it, a joke gift she’d given you last christmas. On the very rare occasions Jenni had to leave the house before you were up, she almost always left a little note. Sometimes it was something cheesy and adorable, and other times it was just a heart. Today, there was nothing but the mug, the coffee inside already cold.

------

When Jenni entered the house after dinner, she was feeling kind of guilty for being so distant the past few days. Especially after seeing how exhausted you were the night before. With the whole day to think about things, she realized maybe she should be more worried than upset with you.

She’d left before you were even awake. Obviously, you couldn’t discuss anything at training, and you’d gone straight to the library after to work on your essay. Jenni had made herself get out of the house, getting together with a few friends, texting you quickly that she wouldn’t be home for dinner.

She knew she’d been a bit immature and that she should have just communicated her issue to you. Before you, she’d never felt needy. Now, though, it felt like any time away from you was difficult. And the distance she’d forced in the past few days hadn’t made her feel better like she thought; she hadn’t gotten used to not being around you. Instead, she just missed you even more. Maybe she would have talked to you, honestly, if she hadn’t been convinced that you were upset with her, tired of her.

She couldn’t hear the clicking of the keyboard coming from the office, and that would have been her first guess as to your location. Moving further into the house, Jenni looked around, finally spotting you in the living room. You weren’t lounging in the armchair, watching a show, like she’d been expecting. Instead, you were curled up into a ball on the sofa, sobbing into your hands. It was loud and painful, and the brunette was sure that you hadn’t even heard her enter the house. There were papers scattered around you, your computer set aside, still open to the essay that just wouldn’t get done.

The small sounds you were making in between each sob broke Jenni’s heart, and it only took her a minute to unfreeze, and cross the room.

“Amor, hey,” she cooed, crouching down next to the sofa and trying to tug your hands away from your face. You jumped slightly, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. You thought you’d have more time to hide your breakdown before Jenni got home.

“Go away.” You murmured, attempting to move away from her. Jenni was strong, though, and before you could move very far, you were being pulled into her lap.

“No. Talk to me.” Jenni encouraged, finally getting a look at your face. Her stomach dropped as she realized just how exhausted you were, and just how upset. Your bottom lip trembled as you tried to stop your tears, fighting against the urge to lean into your girlfriend. If the past day had taught you anything, it was that Jenni didn’t need to deal with your stress. That was the reason she must have been pulling away, and you wanted to respect her obvious need for space.

“I’m fine, Jenni, just go to bed. I’ll be in later.” Your voice was raspy from crying, and Jenni’s brow furrowed.

Shaking her head, she leaned in to place the gentlest of kisses on your cheek. “Cari, I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is wrong.”

Again, it felt like every part of you was begging to collapse into her. You just couldn’t do it. “You have enough on your plate. Don’t worry about me.” Even as you spoke, tears ran down your face, and you sniffled pitifully.

Jenni rolled her eyes in response, her slender fingers pushing your hair away from your face. “I love you, I am going to worry about you. Especially when I find you like this. Now tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.”

There was nowhere for you to look but at her, and her eyes were so earnest and so concerned, you gave in. “I-I’m just so stressed, Jen. I can’t- there isn’t enough time for me to get everything done and I’m so tired and I can’t do this anymore I’m losing my mind, and I’m too much for you and I just-”

Jenni became laser focused on the end of your rambling sentences, her hands working frantically to run through your hair and caress your face in comfort. “No, you are not too much for me, mi amor. Never. Why would you think that?”

Looking at her with wide eyes, you wondered why she was lying. “You’ve been avoiding me these past few days. You’ve barely been here, you left this morning without even waking me, I-”

Shaking her head rapidly, Jenni felt guilt tugging at her. She should have known better, should have known you’d never do anything to hurt her, but yourself? That was another story. “Amor, you’ve been avoiding me for weeks. I was only trying to give you space.”

“I was trying to give you space.” You choked out. “I thought you were tired of me.”

“No, mi amor, no.” Jenni sighed, gripping you by the shoulders and internally cursing herself. “I thought you were tired of me. You’ve been so busy, and I just thought you wanted to spend less time with me.”

‘No, I didn’t want that.” You shook your head, shrugging her hands off your shoulders, only to wrap your own arms around her abdomen and bury your face in her neck. “I was just so busy and so overwhelmed, I didn’t want to stress you out.”

With a gentle hand on the back of your head, Jenni pressed you in closer to her and left a kiss on the side of your head. “You do not stress me out. I want to help you when you are stressed, but I cannot do that if it feels like you do not want me around.”

You nodded into her neck, knowing she likely felt the tears running off your face and onto her skin. “I’m sorry.” You whimpered.

“It’s alright, cari. I’m sorry too, I should have noticed you were stressed.”

When she only got a shrug in response, she leaned you back from her and studied your face closely. “What’s going on, hmm? School doesn’t normally get you like this.”

Subconsciously, you tried to match the rise and fall of your girlfriend’s chest, willing yourself to just calm down so you could have a conversation. “It’s the extra classes. It’s way too much, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m barely getting everything done and it’s building up and-”

“Extra classes?” Jenni asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

You blinked at her. You’d told her about the extra classes… right? Admittedly, Jenni didn’t listen very hard when you talked about school, so it was entirely possible she’d just missed it, but she always remembered the important things. “I told you. I’m taking four this term.”

“Four! Why would you do that?!” Jenni exclaimed, her face so comically surprised, you had to fight a smile. “You didn’t tell me, amor.”

“I did!” You argued back. “So I can finish school this term instead of after the next one.”

Jenni shook her head, her face turning slightly stern. “You did not tell me. That is too much, mi amor, why would you do that? No wonder you’re so overwhelmed.” She tutted.

You thought hard, your eyebrows scrunching in a way Jenni found downright adorable. “Oh. I decided when I was home with my family for the holidays. I must have told them and forgotten to tell you…”

You looked at Jenni wearily, wondering if she’d be upset. Instead, she was chuckling at you and shaking her head. It was very you to forget something like this. Jenni liked to joke that you spend all your brain power on football and school, and there wasn’t any left over for common sense.

“Sorry, Jen. I thought I told you.” You mumbled, face turning red with embarrassment. Maybe your girlfriend would have been annoyed, if she wasn’t so very in love with you. All your quirks, though, were just silly to her, endearing. She had become horrifically soft for you, she realized.

“It’s okay, you didn’t do it on purpose.” Jenni said kindly. “I understand now, why you’ve been so busy. But, amor, if it is too much, why don’t you just drop a class? Or turn in a few assignments late. You only need a certain grade to pass, no? Not everything has to be perfect. You have to give yourself a break.”

It was everything you’d needed to hear, and still, everything you refused to believe. You couldn’t drop a class, couldn’t get less than a perfect score. You didn’t deserve a break, not until everything was done. Jenni’s face fell as your eyes began to water again, and she worried she said the wrong thing.

A flood of words spewed from your mouth, trying to help her understand what you didn’t even really understand. “I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to take a break without someone telling me to, I feel like my body is shutting down Jenni, I’m so tired,” you sobbed, once more pressing your face into her chest, likely staining her shirt with tears. She was quick to wrap you in a hug, hushing you quietly.

“Oh, mi amor.” She sighed, stroking her fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize you were having a hard time, I’m sorry I didn’t help.”

That felt like an incredibly ridiculous thing for her to apologize for, and you told her so. “You shouldn’t have to do that, you shouldn’t have to take care of me like that”

“Of course I do. I want to. That is what partners do, no?” She replied incredulously, using her sleeve to gently swipe the tears off your face. She hated to see you cry, but she loved how long your eyelashes got when they were wet with tears; it made your eyes look bigger, somehow, and it always made her want to hold onto you and never let go.

“You don’t have to.” You argued weakly.

Jenni kissed you gently instead of replying right away, her soft lips pressing into yours telling you more than she could probably convey with words. “I’m going to, cariño.”

“Okay.” You whispered, effectively convinced by her kiss, knowing Jenni well enough to know that if you agreed with her, she’d kiss you again. And she did.

“We’ll start now then. Let’s take a break. We can lay on the couch and take a nap and then order dinner in.” She was already shutting your computer and carefully putting your notes into a pile, before placing it all on the table.

“But my essay,” you argued halfheartedly, knowing you would probably only be capable of writing incomprehensible sentences at this point. The striker turned back to you, a stern look on her face once again. Jenni shook her head firmly, her thumbs running back and forth across your cheeks in an incredibly soothing manner. “No essay is worth this. You need to take a break, and rest.”

“I- I don’t…”

“Hmm? You don’t what, amor?” Her voice held a challenge, almost begging you to argue with her about needing a break. She didn’t understand, but she wanted to, more than anything.

“I didn’t finish.” You whispered. “I don’t deserve a break until I’m done.”

“Cariño,” Jenni sighed, gently pulling on the back of your neck until you’d tucked your face in against her. She kissed the top of your head, mumbling her next words into your hair. “You are not a machine. You deserve a break whenever you need one, and you need one right now. No arguments.”

And though it felt all wrong, you let Jenni remove all your study materials from the room, putting them god knows where. She returned, sliding onto the couch and pulling you so you were laying in her arms.

Once your favorite show had been put on the TV, you looked up at her, chin resting on her chest. “I’m really sorry you felt so neglected, Jen.” You murmured. Now that you were no longer panicked about not getting your essay done, guilt had flooded you. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I promise. I’m so-”

“It’s okay, mi amor.” Jenni smiled. Now that her insecurities had been relatively addressed, [and now that she felt ridiculous for having them in the first place,] her only focus was on getting you to relax. Incidentally, that meant you would be spending a fair amount of time with her going forward, and that was a win for the striker. “I do not want to hear any more about it, si? All is forgiven.”

Jenni’s ability to forgive was one of her best traits, and you knew that when she said she forgave you, she meant it.

“Now, for my plan.” She continued, smiling almost mischievously at you.

“Your plan?” You asked wearily.

“Si, my very smart and well thought out plan.” Jenni grinned. “We are going to make a schedule. There will be Jenni time and study time, but not too much study time.”

“What about too much Jenni time?” You smirked.

She frowned at you. “That is not possible.”

You laughed, laying your head back down on her chest. “Anything else?”

“And now it is nap time, because your eyes are falling shut and you slept for three hours last night.” Her arms locked around you, allowing no escape. Not that you wanted one.

“Okay.” You mumbled, squirming slightly until your face was tucked into her neck, blocking out the light of the room. You drifted off quickly, lulled into sleep by Jenni’s hands rubbing up and down your back, and the rise and fall of her chest under you.

Jenni waited an entire hour to order dinner, thinking that she could wake you when it arrived, if you weren't already awake. She got the message that the food had been delivered a half hour after that, trying to wipe the stupid grin off her face at the way you were curled up on top of her. How she could have ever doubted your love for her, she wasn’t sure.

“Amor? The food is here.” She whispered, pushing your hair out of your face enough to see that your eyes were shut, your face relaxed. Giving up ridiculously quickly, she settled into the couch, allowing you to stay asleep. The food could wait. You needed the rest, and your girlfriend was more than happy to be a pillow for you, for as long as you needed her to be.

------

as if i would study if i was jenni's girlfriend, and not spend the whole day looking at her like 🙂

#jenni hermoso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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paymechildsupport · 8 months ago

Text

I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲

I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.

I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.

Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾

>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈

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“Does this please you, Officer?” // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader

--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏

-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋

-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation

A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.

————-

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

...

This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.

“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep.

“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark.

Fuuuuuuck….

You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform.

Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).

You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger.

Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles.

You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger,

Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…

You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good.

Clearing your throat, you address,

“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb

Holy smokes that’s hot.

“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—-

But that’s besides the point.

You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you.

Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion.

“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd.

‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning,

“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit,

“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”

——

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback.

“You heard me, strip”

“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?”

You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?”

'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted.

“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me.

'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that.

'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters

Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient”

'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench

“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.”

You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment…

The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you.

He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes,

“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human.

“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now”

He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off.

“Oh.”

Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum.

“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?”

'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation.

His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat.

“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants.

Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone.

He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm.

“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”, panting.

You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…”

He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.

“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you,

… “I’m not done with you yet…”

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