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queers-gambit · 10 months ago

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Silence

prompt: ( requested ) anxiety plays tricks on your mind, making you mistake your boyfriend's stress for anger - at you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 2.5k+

note: it's short but to the point.

warnings: cursing, hurt and comfort, depiction of mental health: anxiety, slight self-destructive thoughts.

Silence could be a good thing.

Libraries were silent for ample focus. Theaters were silent during the showing. Sometimes, long drives were peacefully silent.

Silence could also be a bad thing.

Demanding an explanation and the silence stretches. The silence before a doctor delivers life-changing news. Asking someone if they're okay and they don't answer.

When your boyfriend, Carmy, had returned from work that evening, he slammed the front door, dropped his backpack, toed out of his shoes, and stormed around the apartment silently. He didn't greet you, didn't offer a kiss, nothing - just breezed past you as if a pile of dirty laundry he's ignored for the past two weeks. You watched him from the kitchen, sipping a glass of wine, worry sprouting in your gut and chest. It was obvious something was bothering him - but couldn't fathom what it was that made him ignore you; to make him not look at you one single time.

It was like you weren't even there with the way he projected his moodiness. Even on his worst days, he always always always greeted you with a kiss; but the lack of affection hallowed your chest into a pit, wondering what you had done to make him avoid you.

Suddenly, the silence was eerily deafening, coiling your stomach and pumping lead through your veins; no TV or radio switched on to fill the void and create passive, background audio. Carmy was obviously upset about something, but the fact that he didn't even look at you made you think he didn't want to talk. This worried you because before dating, you and Camry Berzatto were the best of friends; talking about literally any and everything you could think of. He came to you with every single grievance, every frustration, every slice of drama - so why wouldn't he now?

Unless... Unless you were the cause of his annoyance? The idea made the pit in your chest stretch to your gut - anxiety rapidly spreading, confusion warping rational thought into something darker and self deprecating. The idea of upsetting Carmy - or anyone, for that matter - was enough to bubble nausea and turn your skin clammy. Muscles tensed, eyes darted, and your mind was plagued with every single thing you had said or done in the past 16 hours.

However, your memory couldn't pinpoint any moment you could've upset him; things had been normal and easy-going lately, there being no clear indication you were the culprit of Carmy's anger. However, there didn't need to be anything clear because your mind was fully convinced you were the bad guy now.

After swallowing a gulp of wine, your eyes adverted to give him privacy and begin on dinner; being obvious that his phone was much more important than you right now. Unfortunately, when it came to picking which sauce to dress your meal with, you were forced to slowly enter the living room where your boyfriend had taken refuge.

"Hey, baby?"

"Hmm?"

You tried not to be offended by his lack of verbal acknowledgement, but your intestines flipped and grew heavy. "Uh, just wondering, you want the marinara or Alfredo tonight with the - "

"Doesn't matter, you choose."

"I mean, which would you prefer?"

"I just said it didn't matter," he repeated with a hardening tone, "it's not like it's a difficult decision to make."

You didn't want to make his attitude worse, so you backed off silently and returned to your task. Yes, yes, Carmy was the professional cook between you but that didn't mean he wanted to come home and continue the act. So, you learned a few new recipes to keep meals interesting - a feat your boyfriend didn't seem to appreciate or even recognize most days. Tonight especially.

Tension tangibly filled the apartment the longer the silence stretched. Your mind conjured a hundred questions at once, begging your mouth to run rapidly if it meant getting answers - yet your logic stuck the words in your throat, refusing to let them fly, and even shoving them deep down for your soul to hold.

You poured a second glass of wine, throat thickening with silent emotion. There was always the worry in the back of your mind that Carmy would one day realize you didn't fit into his life and would break up with you. Or that perhaps, his irritation tonight wasn't due to anything you did specifically, but instead, was attested to your normal behavior and quirks - like the want to talk throughout the day.

Blinking the moisture away, you remembered Carmy hadn't answered a single one of your texts the entire day - a normal act for you, but maybe one that now got on your boyfriend's nerves. You dished up dinner, standing in the open kitchen with two plates and feeling silly for the nerves prickling your skin. You barely noticed the slight tremor in your hands. "Dinner's ready, Carm," you alerted, leaving the plates on the kitchen island you normally ate at; distracted by the need to pour a glass of water.

When you turned, your heart stalled in your chest when you noticed his plate missing - locating him in the living room, again, and it being obvious he didn't intend to eat with you. Now you knew for sure, you had indeed done something. So, you gingerly took a seat and tried to take up as little space as possible; shying in on yourself, eating silently and quickly so you could do the dishes right after.

Sure, there was usually the rule that the cook didn't clean, but there was no way you were gonna ask Carmy to do the simple chore; afraid of pushing him over whatever edge he teetered at. After storing any leftovers, you started the dishwasher and retreated to your bedroom with another glass of wine and the intention to get a bath. You felt like a glaring inconvenience all of a sudden, regret inking your blood and reprimanding yourself for being so - so - so... Clingy?

Is that what it was? Did Carmy think you were clingy? Perhaps texting him throughout the day without him ever answering was the final straw of annoyance he felt toppled the haystack. You wanted to apologize and eliminate the tension, but couldn't necessarily understand what you were sorry for; thinking you were simply paying attention to him, being attentive and interested in his everyday life.

Maybe you needed to apologize for being suffocating? Was that it? Your love was suffocating him? Was he feeling pressured by you? Did he think you two too comfortable in this relationship? Was your wall of texts an indication you were more serious than he? Oh, God, was that it - did Carmy think you were getting too serious, too fast?

Granted it'd been a few years of dating, a lifetime of friendship before that - so how much more serious could you get? Why would your attempts of communication rub him the wrong way? How could the pair of you ever manage to fall off from the same page? Make him think you were pushing for something more? Didn't he know he was enough for you? Didn't he appreciate your presence? The want to be closer? Your desire to maintain the friendship your relationship was built off of? The appreciation you had for him? The support you wanted to offer?

You soaked in epsom salt for the better part of half an hour. Draining the tub, drying off, and changing into pajamas were done silently; feeling almost fearful to venture out of the bedroom to return your wine glass to the sink.

So you decided to just get in bed, figuring if Carmy was so angry at you that it resulted in him ignoring you, he wouldn't want to sleep beside you, either. With your thick framed glasses on, you nestled into bed with your newest novel, trying not to let your mind go into overdrive as your need to fix whatever was upsetting Carmy was overwhelming. Yet there was also the nagging idea that trying to fix whatever was 'broken' would've made things worse - again, resulting in you doing nothing and giving Carmy his space.

The silence haunted the apartment like a ghostly presence; leering over your heads, embracing you uncomfortably.

When the bedroom door opened, you masked your surprise and just read the same paragraph three times in a row - distracted by your boyfriend milling around, preparing for bed. Your eyes widened in shock when the bed dipped and shifted, jostling you as Carmy got into bed beside you, but you still didn't look up from your book.

"What're you reading, sweetheart?"

His mood swings often gave you whiplash. You glanced at Carmy, finger holding your place to let you fold the book over and present the title on the cover. You worried that anything you said and did could make this tension fester, so, you remained silent and went back to reading.

"Is it any good?" He pondered, watching your profile. You nodded mutely, lips slowly rolling between your teeth in a show of anxiety Carmy could now recognize. "Hey, hey, you all right, babe?" He asked softly, sounding mildly confused - perhaps even alarmed.

"Yeah, 'course," you mumbled.

"Well, how was work?"

"Fine."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

There was a brief pause, then Carmy gently pried, "C'mon, baby, what's wrong? Why're you so quiet?" He chuckled gently, "Usually so talkative in the evenings."

You offered him a bewildered look with slightly pinched brows, swallowing nervously and slowly shutting your book to trace the spine mindlessly in an effort to distract yourself. Typically when anxious, your hands needed stimulation, something tangible to do and feel when your mind numbed with nervousness.

With a great deal of bravery, more than you thought was necessary to muster when talking to the person you love, you asked softly, "Are you mad at me, Carm? I mean, did I do something? T-To upset you?"

"Wait, what?" He asked in confusion. "Nah, baby, you didn't do anything, why would you even ask?"

"'Cause you've been ignoring me...?"

He scoffed, "Ah, 'cause I didn't answer your texts?"

"That, and you've been ignoring me in favor of your phone since you got home. Slamming doors, brooding in the living room, didn't eat dinner with me - got a little snappy when I asked what sauce for dinner? Feels like I did something but I don't know what, so I don't know how to fix this."

Carmy sighed, leaning back to the mound of soft and fluffed pillows you had stacked on your shared bed. "Shit," he breathed, huffing a dramatic sigh, "didn't even realize I was doin' all that, baby."

"If you're mad, just tell me what I did - "

"No, no, hey, hey, hey, hey," he rushed, turning on his side to look at you, elbow supporting his weight; clocking the glassiness coating your eyes. "You didn't do anything, baby, I swear. There's nothing for you to fix 'cause you didn't do nothin'. I just - I've been havin' a shit day, didn't realize I was bein' mean to you let alone that you'd take it to heart."

"Kinda hard not to when I'm the only one here."

"No, right, I get that," he sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I know you get anxious when I shut down like that, but I promise, I'm not mad at you."

"Well, who else would you be mad at? I thought you were annoyed 'cause I was texting you all day. Thought I was, I don't know, being clingy or something since you didn't answer me."

Carmen frowned, "Sweetheart, no, hang on, listen to me. You didn't do anything to upset me, okay? I didn't answer you 'cause I dropped my phone in the sink and it got all glitchy, I couldn't answer you. I tried to fix it when I got home, but I think I fried it - should just get a new one. It was just one of those days that everything went to shit, it all built up, got the better of me."

You nodded, still looking dejected and making a shot of guilt plunge his heart. "You usually talk to me when you're upset," you pointed out softly, "and when you didn't say anything, I thought I was the reason you were upset. Figured you wouldn't talk to me if I did something to cause your attitude."

"No, hey, I'm sorry, c'mere, baby," he opened his arms and curled them around you when you shuffled into his chest. "Shit, I'm really sorry, I didn't even realize what I was doing - but Goddamnit, that's no excuse, though. I don't mean t'take my shit out on you, you don't deserve that."

"I just got a little nervous, maybe let my anxiety get the better of me."

"That's okay," he promised, kissing your forehead, "I can understand why. I was a dickhead, being snappy and ignoring you when all you do is support and love me. I'm real sorry, sweetheart," he sighed against your skin, tightening his arms to keep you cocooned in his warmth. "You know, you can always talk to me - don't gotta shut yourself down and avoid me."

"Do you even hear yourself? Should take your own advice."

"Yeah, I should," he smirked. "Hey, promise I'll do better not to shut down like that."

You nodded in acceptance, wondering softly, "Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever happened today?"

"Uh, nah, you know what? Think I owe you some cuddles, maybe a dessert? You know, to make up for my bullshit attitude."

"You don't have to - "

"I got you all worked up, feels like the least I can do."

With a hum, you smirked, "I won't say no to a slice of cheesecake."

"What baby wants, she gets," he grinned, a hand caressing your cheek to direct your eyes up to his. His thumb swept back and forth under your eye, "Still sorry about today. I didn't mean to be such an oblivious dickhead, I swear."

You nodded, "I know, baby. Just don't shut me out next time. Had me worried when you didn't even kiss me when you got home."

"A heinous crime on my part," Carmy smirked. "Should I remedy that?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't."

He chuckled and pressed his lips to yours in a soothing kiss, hand sliding to the back of your neck. It was a slow and languid kiss, something he took his time in engaging; lips sticking together, moving in-sync, creating chains of saliva when he pushed his tongue against yours. "Yeah," he mumbled, "I'm the dumb fuck who had you thinkin' I didn't want this from you." He pressed another kiss to your waiting lips, "You're intoxicating, baby - always want your kisses. Yeah? Always. The day I don't, take me out back like Old Yeller."

You wanted to voice that he wanted your kisses now until one day, he simply wouldn't - but refrained from doing so because you knew it was just anxiety talking. So, instead, you chuckled at his comment and leaned in to initiate your own kiss.

requesting rules and masterlist

FX's The Bear masterlist

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avoidthings · 3 months ago

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kitchen’s closed | t. richmond

About: Terry catches you in the kitchen late at night and has his own idea of a midnight snack. [word count: 2.1k] Warnings: Explicit language. 18+ Readers Only. Oral (female receiving), Unprotected PIV (wrap your willy, pls). I had concepts of a plot.

It was well past midnight in North Carolina, and you could hear the crickets and other critters abuzz outside of your bedroom window. You stared at the sliver of moonlight cast between your curtains, realizing the clutches of insomnia had sunk its sneaky fingers in you yet again.

Your boyfriend, Terry, rarely stirred in his sleep, and kept a hefty arm draped over your waist every night. Being that he was ex-military, it was sort of ironic how heavy of a sleeper he was. Some evenings you tried to count the rise and fall of his chest instead of sheep, but rather than lulling you to bed it just disgruntled you. You wanted to poke the bear awake and damn him for leaving you so smitten.

The room was quiet aside from the bustle of the outdoors, and you thanked God your man didn’t snore or else this would feel like a torture chamber. You flipped through the rolodex of your thoughts and landed on recapping your day; you went to work, Terry picked you up and made a stop at Kroger, then you two watched some sitcom reruns for a bit. House rules were to grab takeout after grocery shopping so neither of you had to bother with cooking something.

All that thinking of food must’ve sent a reminder to your stomach. You exhaled as it grumbled. While very cute, you would rather not see Terry’s grumpy face should he discover his miso soup missing. You perked up at the memory of slipping a pint of ice cream in the shopping cart earlier.

It was counterproductive, solving sleeplessness with sugar, but you hoped Ben & Jerry’s would be your saving grace tonight. You peered over your shoulder to find your boyfriend as sound as ever, eyes fluttered closed like a saint.

After a silent prayer, you wriggled from his hold and toed out of bed. You pattered around the twilight of the room, starting your mission to the fridge. Past the master bathroom, the thermostat, (which nearly broke the two of you up), and to the far right of your living space was your destination. Thankfully, the range hood light was on so you weren’t too sore of eyesight.

You opened the freezer and plucked out your reward. After grabbing a spoon, you settled in, sitting on top of the counter. The granite was cold against your bare thighs, your body only blanketed by a worn t-shirt that hung off your shoulders.

That first mouthful was instant gratification and you nearly rolled your eyes back in delight.

“Baby, what are you doing up this late?” You were startled by Terry’s voice, the tone more gruff from the interruption of his slumber.

You were caught red-handed, spoon in mouth, so you shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Wanted something sweet.”

He hummed. Terry made his way closer, no longer a distorted shadow in your peripheral vision. He had come to bed in only his sweatpants and socks.

Terry had a glow about him, even in the dim of your surroundings. He slipped comfortably in your personal space, stepping right between your legs. You relished in the warmth.

You had to look up even with the extra height the counter gave you.

“Sorry to wake you. I know you have to go for your run in the morning,” you said.

Terry gave you a lazy smile and shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Everythin’ okay?” You nod wordlessly.

“Hey!” You protested when he nabbed the pint from you, his hands quicker than your reflex to reach for it back. It was a battle you would more than likely lose anyway.

He successfully hushed you by taking a scoop from the container to raise to your lips.

“Open.”

You held his gaze as you took what was given, inciting a groan that rumbled low in his chest.

Terry obliged you once more and made notice of your tongue swiping to the corner of your mouth to catch what you missed. His own hunger dwelled in his underbelly. Between your job returning to the office and his growing trucking business, you haven’t made much time for intimacy as of late.

“I think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet too.” The spoon and tub clattered by your side and he disappeared from your view.

“Terry--”

“Open,” he demanded once more, kneeling toward your feet, causing fire to crawl up the back of your neck. He did not take kindly to being ignored, and you wanted this to be an easy night, so you let your legs spread apart.

He tossed one behind his shoulder, mumbling something inaudible to you. A kiss to your ankle, the inside of your knee, then your thigh.

A yelp pierced the air when Terry’s large hands claimed the curve of your hips, tugging you closer to the counter’s edge. Your clammy palms braced themselves on the flat surface beneath you. You could feel his smirk and goatee rubbing on your exposed skin.

Your breath quickened with the anticipation of what was next. His mouth ghosted over your center, blowing on your clit through your dampening panties.

“Oh, fuck,” you shuddered.

He was a merciless man, dropping open-mouthed kisses to your clothed center. He retreated as you tried to furl into his touch, reaching underneath your shirt to roll your nipple for more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Terry inhaled your scent without shame. Finally, the cotton of your undies was torn from your pelvis to who-knows-where. You felt the coolness of the air over your exposed skin for a brief moment, the absence of touch not lasting long.

You jerked, feeling his tongue swipe a slow strip up from your wet entrance, gathering your slick. He lewdly spat it back over your clit and sucked until you cried out. Terry ate you without abandon, with little regard for any manners, overtaken by his own greed. --

“I missed how you taste, baby.” Voice muffled in between your legs, his eyes flitted up at you, earnest as always. Terry’s grip maintained the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread so he could continue to steal all breath and sense from you.

“Oh my God,” you moaned. Your brain and your body sounded an alarm, reeling with the increasing need for release. His name fell like a chant from your mouth.

Two fingers pushing into you caused the band to snap, Terry immediately seeking the button that left you gushing. He was unaffected when your heel dug deep at his shoulder, urging his face further in your pussy as if it was possible. His fingertips sped in pace, turning your mewls into high-pitched squeals.

Soon enough, your back bowed with the intensity of your orgasm. He tightened his hold, keeping you steady as the current flowed through you. “That’s my girl,” he kissed and licked you through it. Pleasure never reached a precipice when you were under his care, and you shouted to the heavens.

When your legs eventually deflated, your hands found his ears, rubbing behind them gingerly. A grunt slipped from his mouth.

Terry staggered to his feet, hooded eyes glazed over your heaving body. His teeth nipped between your breasts over your shirt, up to your collarbone and your neck. You hooked a leg around his waist, pulling him in to feel his erection prod at your inner thigh.

Instinctively, he rutted up against you and you sighed. You were warm all over, sheeted with sweat and clenching around nothing, wanting only to be full of him.

His lips left your jawline and found your mouth, luring you into a mind-numbing kiss. You cradled Terry’s face in your hands and took control, allowing your tongue to slot against his. It felt all the more indulgent, the lingering taste of chocolate on your lips mixed with your own arousal.

He was still rubbing on your leg and it only intensified your need for connection. Like a minx, you curled into him, purring in his ear. “Terry, I need you. Please.”

Your hands lowered to explore the solid planes of his body, all of its beautiful ridges and scars. He leant down so his forehead was touching yours. “Fuck, I need you too, baby. Been losing my damn mind about you,” he breathed.

Terry yanked at the waistband on his joggers and his dick sprung free. You two didn’t usually forgo protection but your cycle was around the corner, and desperation made your judgment very foggy.

His fingers splayed under your shirt to grasp at your plush waist, thumbing the folds of your belly from where you sat. Terry pushed his way inside, coating himself to about half of his length. You sighed into his hold, legs locked at his torso, trying, and failing to meet him in the middle.

Without much effort, he stilled your movements. Terry pulled out slowly, and slapped himself over your clit twice, leaving you to squirm pitifully. “Stop teasing and just fuck me, already,” you whined.

Terry did as told and burrowed into you in one, deep thrust. You ate your words in a choked gasp. His head cocked back as he felt your walls squeezing him, putting the cords of his neck on full display.

Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried desperately to hold on to the thread of resolve you had left. Terry trampled on it when he set a brutal pace, drilling in you like you owed him something. Your ears were ringing with your own moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. It all felt like too much, far too soon.

You pressed a hand to his chest feebly and whimpered. Promptly, he grabbed your trembling forearm and kissed the inside of your wrist. “I’m fucking you like you wanted, huh? Why you tryna run from me?”

“It’s t-too, m-much,” your words were slurring and you frowned through the pleasure, hoping he’d give you relief from his punishing strokes. That all too familiar storm brewed in your belly again and you couldn’t stifle any noise that left your lips. Each thrust brushed against that sensitive spot within you, and you try your might to stave off your climax.

His stare was focused on you, utterly enamored by your carnal state. “Terry!” You wailed, slapping the countertop behind you and shifting to scoot away. The crack of his hand on the side of your ass rang loud and welled your eyes with fresh, salty tears. Terry landed a sweltering kiss on your lips to pacify you.

He gripped you by the coils at the nape of your neck, and you blinked at him, huffing out shattered breaths. You wanted to ask him why he was fucking you like this, and what did you ever do to deserve it. But your brain could only compute expletives. You clenched and unclenched around him greedily, and his teeth clashed at the sensation.

“Stop holding back, I can feel it. Let that shit go.” And under his spell, you did, surmounting to a shaking ball in his arms. Your toes curled at his sides and his rhythm didn’t falter, his own release not far behind. You keeled with overstimulation, the air feeling sticky on your skin.

Terry’s hands abandoned your waist to cup your ass, bouncing you on his dick in hardy, final thrusts. You bite down his shoulder so you don’t scream loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood. His head is buried in the crook of your neck now, sweat dripping on your collar.

“‘Gonna make me cum all in this tight pussy, fuckk,” he groaned, ropes of his release starting to spurt inside of you. Your body was taut around him as his hips slowed to a halt. You were filled to the brim.

“My pretty baby did so good. So perfect for me,” Terry was panting like he just finished a mile-run, and still chose to sing your praises. He softened and pulled out, a part of you now missing. You sat there for a beat to catch your breaths, limbs still tangled together.

“Mm..’can’t stop shaking,” you whispered.

His actions had left you exhausted, drowsiness coated in every blink of your eyes. Terry separated from you for a second and he had his pants back on, scooping you up in his arms. You latched onto him like a bear, nuzzling into his chest.

If it was up to you, you’d pass out right there and crawl to bed in the morning. Something squished against his foot on his trudge out of the kitchen.

“Shit, my socks are wet…what is that?”

Ice cream.

Author’s Note: Just wanted to drop my contribution to the Terry Richmond industrial complex.

P.S. This was supposed to be Trainer!Terry but my hormone monster won.

As always if you made it to the end, thank you bunches!

#chantal writes #terry richmond x reader #rebel ridge fanfiction #aaron pierre #terry richmond

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bodyswapmischief · 5 months ago

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The Body Swap Couple: Car Troubles

"Hey, cut it out!" Travis tried to shoo away Henry as he worked on the car.

"Babeeeee, whyyyy, you looks soooo hot and muscular. And, I look so hot and muscular. You know .... I also love hairy bodies. It's so not fair!" Henry groans his flamboyant tone and mannerisms, looking a bit silly in his new over masculine body.

"Baby, no! We need to focus. We only jumped into these bodies so we could fix the car and use their knowledge to do so. We are already using their tools and garage ... we can't have fun in their bodies ... it's only business." Travis groaned as he lifted the car with the automatic lift.

"But, babeeee, I wanna play with the only tool ... I care about." Henry said as he was about to grab Travis, new body's junk. Travis swatted him out of the way.

"No, Henry! Remember anything we do in their bodies ... they will think they did, themselves. Look at these guys' memories ... they have families. We can't just turn them both gay and destroy their lives and marriages." Travis began to look at what he'd need to fix the car. "Just stand by the toolbox and hand me what I need. You should know the name of the tools because of the memories of these bodies."

"Ugh, fine, Trav, but we need to find some bodies to fuck in sooooon. It's been a few days since we fucked in new bodies! And, I'm so horny for a new expirence." Herny began to look through the toolbox.

"Okay, I need a hammer. To knock this part off, " Travis said.

"I'd love to get hammered by you." Herny giggled as he passed the tool.

"Herny!" Travis rolled his eyes. He knew their words wouldn't affect the bodies ... only their behaviors would. But, still, he thought Henry needed to get his mind out of the gutter. "Okay, now I need a wrench." Travis continued as he raised his arms to get to the part he needed to take off.

Henry took that moment to wrap his arms around Travis. He tip toed to reach Travis' armpit and licked, followed by sniff, then a kiss, and a slight suck. Travis moaned in response.

"Oops ... is this gonna affect them." Henry smirked. "My guy ... gets a new taste for your guys body. And, your guy moans in response. Seem tainted to meee!" Henry chuckled.

Travis groaned as he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Fuck! And, yes! This taints them. Now they are gonna fucking do this all the time. And, be confused about it and ashamed. The only way to help them now ... is to fuck ... so they think they confessed thier love to each other. Instead of being closeted and shameful." Travis sighed as he took of his pants to get ready to fuck.

"Yay!" Henry cheered.

#body #transformation #swap #tf #male #stocky #male body swap #male transformation #malebodyswapmischief #TBSC #body swap couple

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venuslarkspur · 3 days ago

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Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 5

With Love, To The New Batgirl.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother, you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Warning: mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy sickness, overprotective Damian Wayne, hidden pregnancy, toxic Al Ghul family. Jason being fuming at Jon. Mentions of food and eating idk.

Pairing: Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader (romantic), Batfamily x Batsis!Reader (platonic).

Notes: this is so late I’m sorry and also I HATE USING Y/N IM SORRY GUYS. This isn’t proof read sorry again. Some Stephanie Brown love in this one.

—————————

You woke up, hair ruffled and memories from the night before rushed in. Dick finding you, nearly dying from the bone crushing hug all your siblings gave you, except your twin brother, the one you wanted to hug the most. Everyone was especially delicate with you, not even mad. Sure, Jason told you to ‘never try that shit again.’ But for the most part everyone welcomed you back, but a few of them were a bit clingier than others; which is why Steph, Dick, Cass and Jason are all having a sleepover in your room, you were sure Duke and Tim probably felt like the only normal ones right now, and you had no idea about Damian. You did let out a giggle at the fact that Steph’s foot was on Cass’s face as she slept on the other end of the bed, but your brothers took the floor.

You eventually pulled up the covers and slipped out of Steph’s grip, you’ve fought deadly assassins and monsters but nothing was more terrifying than Steph spooning you. You tip toed downstairs, as if you weren’t living with highly trained vigilantes; you made your way to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. “Damian I know you’re there.” You announced whilst taking a sip of your glass, he revealed himself from behind wherever. “Nice to see you’ve taken the costume off, I thought you just slept it in.” You declared, you assumed that’s why his costume always stank, he needs to take it off more.

“Did you tell father?” He asked, and you immediately tense up. “Damian that doesn’t matter right now-“ you try and grasp but you’re swiftly interrupted, “Did.you.tell.father?” He said, in between pauses. His voice sounded so much more mature now, it was nearly unsettling; of course you had changed a lot too. You were carrying a whole child inside you. “Not yet, it’s not the right time.” You try and stress but he just scoffs. “Seriously! what is your problem Damian?” You hollered, hoping nobody heard from upstairs. “Me? I’m not the one with a baby inside me.” He points at you, so accusatory. But before you can snap back another voice is heard, but weakly. “What?”You recognise that voice, it was Jason.

“I-Jason-“ you tried to find the words but it was null and void, Damian crossed his arms in disappointment and maintained eye contact with Jason. “Other room, now.” Jason said, and you scattered behind him; needing to find a way to keep him quiet. You eventually entered the other room, it had a desk and few sofas and was dimly lit. Jason shut the door, turned to you and crossed his arms; “Explain.” You could hear the discontentment in his voice, you took a deep breath and looked up at him and spoke. “Please don’t be angry.” You pleaded, tears threatening to fall. “I’m not mad at you.” He replied, “Well don’t be grumpy.” You said whilst rubbing your eyes with your hands. “I’m not angry at you and I’m not gonna have a sour attitude with you or anything..I just wanna know what dead bastard had the audacity to put a kid in you.” He trembled, and you did feel a bit defensive considering he was speaking about Jon, your boyfriend.

“It’s not like that!” You almost yelled and he let his arms fall to his sides but you apologised and weakly said “I’m sorry-it’s just, it’s not the way you think.” You said and you felt frustrated. “Help me understand then.” He asked, you were just happy he wasn’t tracking Jon down and shooting him. “Jon and I-“ “I knew it, I’m getting Bruce’s stash of kryptonite.” He announced and slowly began to move but you stopped him, “please listen.” You begged, and he looked at your face and hesitated, he stopped. You took a deep breath in and out before continuing, “Jon and I were very close-“ “clearly.” “Shut up! Anyway we were just so happy and in love- that well..this happened.” You said and he looked slightly less murderous.

“You gonna keep it?” He asked, you fell a bit silent, you were unsure. “Yes.” You answered. His face scrunched a bit and he hesitated but asked again, “Is Jon making you?” He asked, this assumption was crazy; but you knew he was just making sure. “No he isn’t, that’s ridiculous.” You remarked and wondered where this was going. “I won’t tell Bruce but you need to sort this out, hiding doesn’t make it go away.”

“Rich coming from you.”

“Shush- and go back to bed.”

—————————

You were now 1 month into your pregnancy, two weeks had passed and you had not only an amazing Christmas, but a wonderful birthday. Jason had been helping you hide your pregnancy but occasionally scolded you; telling you he can’t cover for your pregnancy sickness forever, you had to tell the rest of your family, or at least Bruce. But what really shattered your heart is that you had heard nothing of Jon, maybe he decided he wanted nothing to do with you or his family has grounded him and taken away his technology, you hoped it was the latter.

Everyone was getting suspicious, you had been quitting patrol and constantly looking out your bedroom window (hoping for Jon to show up), it wasn’t until Steph came in with a letter in her hands that your life would take a new direction. She practically bounced into your room, probably excited for New Year’s Day dinner. Steph passed you the letter and you asked “who’s this from?” She only shrugged and smiled, “Not sure, dinner is in an hour though okay?” “Okay.” And with that she scurried off, and you wondered if maybe you should have told her at least; she would understand.

But no matter, you shred through the letter and payed close attention to its sender’s address. You recognised it, it was Jon’s home. Your heart began to pump faster and your face blushed, you took in the letter and began to read. “Dear Y/N, I’m sorry for not getting in touch with you sooner, I’ve been badly scolded here and it was difficult to even convince my parents to let me write this; they aren’t mad at you but they aren’t too happy with me. Please reply to this when you can; love, Jonathan.” And that hit you hard, like stealing your sort of sister’s costume and running away kind of hard.

You knew there was no better time than tonight, even though you were terrified.

—————————

It after dinner, and your father had finally been alone; he was sat in his office and now was your moment. So you swiftly went in and let out a sigh, your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself. But you stood brave anyway, you met his gaze from his chair. “Father.” You said and stood in front of his desk, he looked up at you and put down his work. “Y/N, what is it?” He asked, in his usual stoic tone which worried you despite its regularity. “I really don’t know how to describe this..it’s so difficult.” You uttered, whilst fluttering your hands to cool down. He waited for you, and you eventually had the courage to spurt one thing out.

“Jason.” You said and he eyed you, concerned. “Is he okay? Did something happen?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head aggressively. “No-No! It’s not that, he knows he will tell you.” And with that you ran to collect him, eventually finding him in the cave, you guess it was a bad time, as him and Dick were chatting; but no mind. Your father sat in the same place and Jason knew immediately, you couldn’t tell him yourself; so you wanted him to tell him. You would usually be ashamed, your grandfather would be ashamed, you are ashamed. But you could never find the words, but Jason thought it would be best to get it out that way.

“Y/N is going to have a baby Bruce.” He said, quietly so nobody else would hear but you three, jeez he could have just said you were pregnant and shortened it. Almost like he was indirectly scolding you but also sugar coating it, so oxymoronic. Your’s dad face didn’t move, and that worried you. “Jon’s?” He asked, knowingly, and that deeply scared you. “I mean who else?” You sniffled, wiping some tears that escaped you. Bruce sighed but stood up to face you, “I’m not mad at you, just disappointed that you chose now.” He said and unexpectedly pulled you into an embrace. “Do not tell your brothers, leave them to me.” And with that you gave Jason a sarcastic look, he rolled his eyes at you and broke the silence.

“Gosh I’m hardly gonna kill your baby’s father now am I?” He announced and turned the other way, “Jason.” Bruce said whilst pulling away from you gently. “What?! I promise, scouts honour.” He argued and smiled. “Jason you were never a scout!” You retorted in joking annoyance, “yeah exactly.” “Jason!” “Forget me, just make sure Damian doesn’t find out that Jon got you pregnant!” He yelled, practically for everyone to hear. And just when you thought you were safe, you heard a voice.

“Y/N’s pregnant.?” Someone said, you couldn’t identify who as currently all your siblings were standing at the now opened office door.

“Shit.”

——————————

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I HAD SCHOOL WORK (AND THE CLIFFHANGER)

Taglist: @waterwyne @planetlotus @girlmachia @type-ink @0924ours @astrelz @icantcryicantstopcrying @twismare @sugarrush-blush @skepvids @dreaming-of-the-reality @otterluver05 @godoreo22 @earth-to-name @krys0210 @allycat4458 @chenlelover @qardasngan

PLS CHECK UR SETTINGS BECAUSE I CANT TAG SOME OF YALL <3

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writerspirit · 16 days ago

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Something of a Secret

Pairing(s): Avis Amberg x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You are invited to your first Hollywood party as an actress. What happens at these parties… well, that’s for the elites to know, and for you to keep secret.

Themes/Warnings: 18+, age gap, suggestive language, implied smut, sexual teasing, jealousy, protective Avis

A/N: Firstly, I apologize for some awkward writing decisions here. Secondly, I know I’m leaving you all hanging on other promised projects, and I am truly sorry for that. Scrambling so many ideas at once is a bitch! (I promise I’m not ungrateful.) Requests are always open in the comments or my personal messages. Anyway, enjoy the incomparable Avis Amberg!

WC: ~ 3.33k

Taglist: @live-laugh-love-lupone

The parties at Vivien Leigh’s house were never discreet. People from nearly every job there could be in Hollywood got invited at least once in there time. Whether those people were memorable, that was all up to the people in charge.

That’s when the words given to you directly from Ellen rang through your ears. “You have to always find a way to be noticed. Or else the only people taking a look at you are you and the reflection in your mirror.”

Your closet, although becoming filled with luxury items, there is still the abundance of clothing from a life you’re lucky enough to call your past. Old beaten up boots, worn down and colorless sweaters stand out against the vibrant colors of the newer pieces hanging up.

The question of what to wear tosses around in your mind. The few yet very different styles present as both good and bad tastes for the event. It is, although ordinary for the other attendees, your first exclusive party while under your new contract at Ace Studios.

You find, in your search, a box almost hidden away in a corner. Gifted to you by Avis for your performance in the film that earned you a slight grasp of fame. The big red bow still sits atop the box, as if you’re opening it for the first time. A smile creeps onto your lips at the memory of Avis handing it to you.

— — — —

“For you, darling,” Avis gleams, enthusiasm radiating off the woman.

You give her an intrigued look, a mixture of interest and curiosity.

“Just something for your efforts. Go on, open it, doll. You’ve earned it.”

“Avis, you shouldn’t have—”

“Believe me, you’re worth it. Now hurry before I lose my nerve and open it for you.”

You open the box revealing a pair of black open-toed stilettos. A pair you were eyeing in one of Avis’ many catalogues. You were brought out of your amazement when a gentle hand found your cheek, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye.

You immediately bring Avis into a hug. A couple of stray tears slip from your eyes staining your cheeks. When you pull away, her hands pull you into a soft kiss.

“Do you like them? I hope they are the correct size.” You heard the slight uncertainty in her quavery tone. Almost skeptical of her own judgment.

“They’re perfect, darling. Absolutely stunning,” you reassure her. “I could never repay you for this, though.”

Her eyes scan over your features. Her eyes find focus on your lips. Her hand lowers to your thigh. She husks, “I’m sure we can both think up a way to pay Mama.”

— — — —

“Stilettos, it is,” you whisper, as if speaking of the gift aloud is a sin. Your hands reach for them, gently holding the pair until they are placed on the bed. “Now for the big show.”

Your eyes scan between two gowns. One being a gorgeous cerulean gown, which was also gifted by Avis. The satin material of the garment matching its elegant design. The other, an almost equally stunning blush getup, gifted by a beau who happens to be a name plastered on a few posters around the town.

“Avis, you clever woman,” the words are breathless falling from your lips.

— — — —

The house is filled with producers, directors, actors and actresses, most of whom have their hands on fame and fortune. Others haven’t been given such graces.

A light gasp leaves your mouth at the sight of the illuminated house before you. Your car pulls into the large driveway, already lined with luxurious cars only seen driven by elites of the world. Not that you’ve traveled far, but going based off the stories Avis tells you in your conversations, these are the vehicles that wealthy money gets you.

“Is here okay, Miss Y/l/n?”

You give your driver a quick glance, quickly turning back towards the house. “Leonard, I have told you plenty of times that Y/n is just fine. Formalities be damned with us.”

He chuckles. He looks back at you from the driver’s seat, and sends you a picture perfect smile. “My apologies,” his posh accent seeps through his words. His eyes scan your appearance before his smile grows. “I’m sure Mrs. Amberg will be pleased with your ensemble tonight.”

A rush is sent to your cheeks at the thought of the woman. Leonard takes a hand in his, noticing the sudden new tint to your face. “Oh dear, I’ve turned you embarrassed.”

He makes his way out of the car, and turns to open your door. “I suppose I’ve dressed for her eyes this evening. Although I wouldn’t mind having a few other’s set on me. Ellen says when the focus is on you, make the most of that time.”

Leonard chuckles at your cheekiness, understanding that under your words, there is the uncertainty of Avis paying you an ounce of attention tonight. This diffidence, he acknowledges, pays you much discomfort.

His hand leads you to the front door, as he does when escorting you to all of your destinations that he is able to drive you to. Gentlemanly manners, like his, was a must when Avis was hiring a driver for you. Getting to know Leonard for yourself, you imagine it doesn’t take money for him to treat anyone with such kindness.

A gentle kiss to his cheek and a squeeze of his hands send him off into the car, and away until your call for his services.

Walking into the large abode, you quickly notice the liveliness that fills the space. An only slight contrast to the outside.

“Y/n, darling, you made it,” Vivien’s voice booms through the room. Your eyes land on the obviously drunken woman, who is rushing towards you. She envelops you in a hug, which unbeknownst to you catches the eyes of one Avis Amberg, who is in conversation with Ellen and Richard. “I didn’t expect you to make it.”

You smile at her, never being one to be seen, or even expectantly noticed, by such a highly-celebrated actress. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You are my world, my love.”

The memory sends a shiver down your spine. Vivien grabs hold of your hand, and pulls you straight to the open bar. The young bartender hands you your usual cocktail, as though your order was plastered across your forehead. “How—”

“Just following orders, ma’am,” he remarks. “Enjoy. I was informed to take your orders if another drink is requested.”

Avis. Cheeky Avis.

“Thank you…”

“Sebastian,” he finishes, an obviously practiced smile accompanied by the name.

“Sebastian,” you echo. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

Avis excuses herself from her conversation, heading towards you.

Vivien playfully taps your arm. “Stop the flirting, you two.”

“Flirting, Y/n,” Avis’ voice seeps with a venom you’ve only heard in your not so innocent encounters. “Careful, or someone may catch the wrong impression of you, dear.”

“Mrs. Amberg,” you start. Your eyes landing on her exposed neckline—a place you’ve been known to latch onto as she rakes her fingers through your hair. “Lovely to see you.”

She gives you a mischievous smile. “Likewise.”

You feel a hand on the small of your back. Her eyes scan your face, as you react to her liking. The straw in your glass making its way to your lips to cover the small gasp that slips from you.

Avis’ lips hover over your ear for a second, as her words are meant for you and you alone. “You’ll be punished for that later.”

Your eyes meet hers when she pulls herself from your space. “I wasn’t,” you start, but are immediately met with a hand up to stop you.

“Excuses, Y/n,” she hisses. “Are for the use of cowards who don’t stand their ground. I thought I taught you that we are not those people.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mumble. “I apologize.”

She grabs hold of your arm, giving it a small squeeze. “No need for apologies, dear. Like I said, you will make it up later.”

You take a strong sip from your straw. Along with a clear of your throat, you look around for possible lingering eyes. You catch a pair of eyes and a smile, belonging to Ellen, watching in awe of her friend’s boldness.

Avis never strays her eyes from you. Her hand however, lowers, giving a little squeeze. One that isn’t foreign to you, although powerful in melting for her.

You squeal at the action, not having expected anything so risqué to happen while here. “Relax, sweetheart,” Avis growls. “There are eyes everywhere, and secrets are what makes this town.”

She grabs hold of your hand. Bringing it up to her lips, she places a gentle kiss to it. “Mr. Amberg is out of town on business, which means Mama will be free the next few days.”

Your eyes follow your hand as she lowers it from her lips. “Avis, the stain will never leave my hand,” you utter. “They’ll know once they see it.”

“Good,” she growls. She brings her face mere inches from your own. Feeling her breath on your skin, goosebumps rise up your arms. “These people need to know you aren’t available to them.”

Your name is heard from a group of women chatting across the vast lawn. You turn and smile, waving a hello. Their faces light up at you, and beckon you over.

She gathers herself. “I have other people to make small talk with. Will I have to keep an eye on you tonight?”

Your mind races with possible answers. “No, ma’am,” you breathe.

“No… who?”

“No, Mama,” you correct. You smile at your own cheekiness.

“Very well. Have fun tonight.”

— — — —

“Anyway, that is why I propose that Ace Studios carry out the seemingly smaller projects and focus on those, while these other studios compile these garbage collections of so called movies.”

The man’s voice is lost to Avis, as she focuses her attention to you in the next room. Her gaze steady, as she notices you’re speaking with an executive at a rival studio.

She also notices his subtle smile at your words. The man is nameless to Avis, although she has noticed his popularity with a few of the other actresses throughout the night.

“Excuse me, but do you know that man speaking to that young woman over there?”

The man in conversation with her collects his thoughts as he follows her gaze. “Ah, that is Frederick Clapton. Up-and-coming manager turned co-owner of a production company, thanks to his folks. He’s been trying to hustle the new meat into his lap.”

“Thank you. That’ll be all,” she states, her eyes still focused on you.

“Martin,” the man says.

“Right.”

As Avis starts her way to you, Richard and Ellen stop in front of her. “I don’t think Vivien would take kindly to you acting like a raged bull in her home.”

“Get out of my way, Dick.”

“The girl is fresh meat in a pool of pariahs. Did you expect anything less from these people?”

Avis scoffs at his remarks. However true, she still doesn’t care to watch snakes pining for your talent.

“No need to worry, Avis. I have prepared her for these kinds of situations, and I am sure she isn’t one to fall for such… desperation,” Ellen adds. She uses the word loosely, as the three are the only ones fully aware of your… relationship. “She is a smart girl.”

“And besides,” Dick clears his throat before taking a light sip of his bourbon. “I believe that she knows better than to make small talk with a goober unless there was some kind of gain.”

Against Avis’ better judgment, the three see your hand playfully tap his chest. His hands find a place atop your’s. She lets out a heavy gasp.

“Oh dear,” Ellen utters.

“Move,” Avis snaps. “Now!”

They make no fight, moving aside for her. She makes way darting for you, eyes darkened with a fiery anger.

Your giggles add fuel to the already scorching heat of the fire you’ve caused. “Going after my clients, Freddie,” her voice sharpened as her eyes fix themselves to shoot daggers through his. “So new, yet already as sneaky as the rest of these snakes.”

Your hand falls from his chest. Your breath catches in your throat, as you feel the heat radiating from her body.

He huffs at her comments, not having been affected by Avis’ coldness. “Mrs. Amberg, what a pleasure.” His hand extends, offering her a handshake. Avis stands in a still, unwavering stance. Confidence exudes her as she doesn’t take his hand.

“Y/n, dear, a moment please,” Ellen’s inquires.

You nod, making a slow but steady move toward the two standing across the hallway in the other room.

“That poor girl,” Richard whispers, only loud enough for Ellen’s ears to pick up.

“Poor girl? That man is about to get his behind handed to him and Avis barely knows his name.” Ellen laughed.

You reach the two, who are both clutching their chests in fits of quiet laughter. They quickly silence themselves, noticing your wide eyes and clenched hands at your sides. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Oh, you messed up big,” Dick answers. “In fact, I don’t know if messed up is the phrasing I’d use here.”

“I was just trying to play around. Get word from a few higher ups here.”

“Sweetheart, Avis is thee higher up here. You know that.”

You tense up at Ellen’s words. Sure, Ace Studios has you under contract. Avis made sure of that. For now, that is.

“She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?”

“Maybe, after she lays out her first victim of the night. I’m sure you’re next on the list.”

“I was just talking to the pretty lady ab—”

“That pretty lady has a name.”

“Well yes, but—”

“So you come here, sweet talk a few ladies tonight, loosen them up, have a go at them, promising a contract they’ll have to inevitably work for afterwards, then push them away?”

“Um…” he stumbles over his words.

Avis grabs a firm hold onto his shirt, pulling him towards her. “Stay away from her, or I will be personally responsible for your ass getting thrown on the curb.”

She straightens his shirt for him, a faux smile plasters her face. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. Clapton.”

Avis sends him a wink, sending a shiver down the man’s spine. She stalks toward you, hands set firmly at her sides.

“Avis, I’m so—”

Her hands grab your waist, pulling you against her. Her lips make contact with yours, smudging your lipstick with hers.

She pulls away, giving enough space for you to compose yourself. She smiles contentedly as her mark is left on you, more visible than the one previously set on your hand.

“We’re leaving,” she orders, a sternness in her voice. “Get in the car.”

Your breath hitches, your eyes turn as you quickly scan your surroundings. “Avis,” you breathe.

“Goodnight, Ellen,” Avis places a gentle hand over the woman’s arm. “Dick, tomorrow morning for the board meeting.”

He purses his lips and sends a nod her way.

Avis sends parting wishes to Vivien, who is as drunk as the day is long. The woman attempts to grab hold of you for another hug, but is stopped by Avis’ hands pulling you flush against her side, her hand resting on your waist.

You send her a warning glare.

At the doorway, you are met by Avis’ driver. He sends you a smile. “Mrs. Amberg. Miss Y/l/n. Lovely night, I presume?”

“The night was unbearably long. You know how these things bore me to tears. It’s a wonder I came to this one,” Avis quips.

The man you’ve come to know by his title — Driver — opens the doors for you and Avis. When he gets to the driver’s seat, he drives off from the property.

You quickly realize the route he is taking you is towards the Amberg residence.

“Avis, I can’t be seen there.”

“Don’t worry. Ace knows that I sometimes bring business associates to the house.”

“I am not your business associate, Avis.”

“Well aren’t you the smart little cookie.” The venom heard earlier in the evening returns.

“I know people saw us at Vivien’s house. And those stunts–”

"Stunts? Oh," she scoffs. "Doll, if you're talking about stunts, why don't we bring to light you practically throwing yourself to that nobody? Not to mention the others I saw you talking to."

“What I was doing was networking,” you bite. “In case you haven’t noticed, Mrs. Amberg, I am still held under a microscope here. I barely have my foot in the door, and most of the time, I can’t tell if that is because of my talent or who beds me.”

Her eyes widen at your confession. To think, she makes you feel… undervalued.

“Driver, stop here. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

You wipe tears away from your eyes. Avis can’t help but to stray her eye from your distress. Her hand tries to make contact with your thigh, which tenses at her attempt. At that, she recedes her hand back to her person.

The driver opens Avis’ door first. His hand is offered to her, which she hesitantly takes. Before he can start for your door, she walks for it, grabbing the handle. You look up at her, eyes slick with tears.

Your hand trembles as it meets hers, gently pulling you out of the car. She pulls you close to her, her eyes studying your features. “You’re not just a lay, Y/n. Beyond who you are to me, you are a fantastic actress. A name that one day will be shining around this town. I am sure of it.”

Your lips curve into a half smile. You let out a soft sigh.

“You don’t believe me,” she concedes.

Your lips purse together. Your eyes are unsteadily focusing on anything but hers.

“I suppose you’ll just have to take my word for it, for now.”

Her hand snakes over your waist. “We don’t have to talk. But we are going to walk into the house with you on my arm because I need to make up for my… abhorrent behavior this evening.”

You snicker, the small laugh pulling more than words could for the older woman.

“Give me a little credit… I hardly ever apologize to anyone.” Her words come off lighter now, as she sends you a smile. Her eyes focus on your lips, as they reciprocate hers with your own smile.

Avis lets out a small chortle. “There it is.” You give her a raised brow. Her fingers curl under your chin, starting a trace over your jawline. “That goddamn gorgeous smile.”

Her hand finds your cheek, resting there. You lean in, placing a gentle peck on her lips. At your pulling back, your gaze meets hers. The pupils in her eyes dilate, making your heart pound against your chest. The desire for you to devour her—worship her—growing stronger than you recall ever before.

Avis lays a gentle hand to your side, her fingers tingling with the affection she is impatiently waiting to give you.

“Say something. Please. The silence is torturing me.”

“I suppose an apology is a good start.”

Avis lets out a contented sigh. “That’s great.”

“But you still have a lot of making up to do.”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” her words carry with a honey-like sweetness. “Mama’ll make everything right.”

Your arms lace around her neck. You place a soft kiss to her lips, which she deepens almost instantly. Before things escalate further, you pull back.

“Do we really have to walk,” you whine.

Avis chuckles. “No, driver can take us back.”

You lean into her. Your voice lowers for her ears. “Good�� it’d be a shame if we had to wait longer for the fun to begin.”

#fanfiction #imagines #fem reader #hollywood #avis amberg #avis amberg x female reader #avis amberg x reader #patti lupone

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lostintransist · 2 months ago

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Fallen Angel | Hugs That Heal

AO3

Today had been shit. There was no other way to say it. You got yelled at by no less than three customers for issues that weren’t actually issues, your childhood dog had died, and your friends had to cancel on coming by the shop before close. And your fucking period started today meaning that even though you kept it together all you wanted to do was weep.

You had only been living with Simon for a few months. He wasn't home much and often on a near unpredictable basis. Hoping against hope that he wouldn't be home today you slid your key home. When the door opened, the key still in the lock, you knew hope would not save you.

He still wore his mask and had hard eyes. Fuck. This was Ghost, the mismatched name for a man who wears a skull mask to keep his identity hidden.

Staring at you he didn't move.

"Move or I will find out if you are afraid of tears." They are already brimming at your lash line.

Ghost stepped back. You still had to wedge yourself between the wall and his stiff body. The contact with a body that held no softeness for you was too much. Tears slid down your cheeks as you toed off your shoes and moved on socked feet to the bathroom. Done there, toilet used and teeth cleaned, you moved to your room. Changing turned out to be difficult as your tears worsened and the shaking started.

Barely holding it together you find the kitchen by memory alone. The large shape you can see when your vision isn't filled with tears confirms your roommate is still awake.

"Ghost?"

No reply. Your crying turns to sobbing.

"Can I have a hug?"

Eight sobbing breaths pass before the air shifts in front of you. Reaching out blind you bury yourself into his chest, unleashing the full force of everything that had been bottled up today. His arms drift around you, holding more onto himself than you. That's fine. You don't need much tonight, only to know you are not alone.

Chest hollow you step back, sleeves scraping at both eyes.

"Sorry about that Ghost." Glancing up you see the presence of a soul again. Simon must be back. "Simon. I apologize about that. I am going to go be mortified in my bed now. G'night."

Turning on your heel you march to your bed, hurling yourself between the sheets as self flaggliation becomes your favorite refraine.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

#Fallen Angel COD #cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod #roach x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader

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triumviiirate · 4 months ago

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Star Trek: Living Memory by Christopher L. Bennett

#spock immediately jumping to her defense!! his complete faith in her!!! i'm sick #star trek tos #tos #spuhura #if you want it to be i won't stop you #nyota uhura #spock #uhura #novel #tos living memory #triposting

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medlilove · 7 months ago

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So I actually listened to the audiobook version of living memory before I watched the nomad episode. I thought the book was amazing, really touching. Really goes into the pain Uhura must have gone through when she forgot everything. But the episode.... I really thought it would focus on her at least a little bit more. They barely touched on what she went through! I guess that's the 1960s for you, but damn, is she ok?

#nyota uhura #tos #living memory #star trek #nichelle nichols

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lichqueenlibrarian · 1 month ago

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Spock as Ishmael struck me as a little more at peace with himself than Spock with his memories back- as Ishmael he was still logical, but allowed a little more leniency with understanding the emotions of others. He’s SO UPSET when he comes back to himself and realizes all the romcom shenanigans he’s been helping with. Playing pool with Cyprians, playing chess for money??? LONG HAIR!?

Honestly his first clue that everyone was going to like him regardless should’ve been how easily they accepted “I don’t feel love or desire for women” and didn’t ask any other questions.

I agree about your point with Kirk and McCoy, especially as McCoy calls him a big fake, and then nearly dies of shock when he sees how friendly Spock is with Sarah and Biddy. It’s Aaron’s assessment of Kirk I like where he can see immediately that he understands Spock on a deep level.

I found Spock’s treatment in Ishmael really interesting- when he loses his memories, he’s obviously unaware that he is half human, believes himself to be fully alien but knows nothing more than that. When asked he is not sure that he has ever had a home, but when he recognizes San Francisco it’s very nearly emotional. All the people around him accept that he’s different than they are, and yet he worries that if he married and had a child, that child would belong nowhere. There’s really been no situation where he has been made to feel othered, after an initial attempt to convince him to marry, everyone leaves him alone on the subject.

Spock makes an argument on behalf of the women in the town who were brought there as a result of a wager, knowing that he understands their feelings and only experiences some slight shame about it, alongside a vague impression he ought to be more upset, and finds that reaction confusing. When he regains his memories he starts thinking about how he got involved in the humans’ gross and stupid issues and how appalling that is.

I think the contrast Barbara Hambly depicted is so fascinating- on one hand you have how Spock understands himself and the world, and on the other how the people around him understand him.

Bringing Jim and McCoy into it, Jim accepts Spock as he is and where he is, while I think McCoy gets upset with the knots Spock ties himself into.

#I’m so glad to talk to someone about this book like WHAT #I’m still not over it being crossover fanfic with another series from the 60s that was one hell of a discovery #I felt so bad for Spock in this as well like he loses his memories and as ishmael doesn’t know how long he’ll live among humans #or whether there’s others of his kind looking for him #it’s just so frickin neat #ishmael #barbara hambly #star trek novels #star trek tos #spock

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pettypuppy-jonghyun · 5 months ago

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Stay at home Dad | Wooyoung

Summary: wooyoung attempts at being a stay at home Dad and you come home to him and the kids asleep

Notes: woo with kids is my biggest weakness omg

Warnings: none

When you came home that evening it was eerily quiet. The lights were turned on in every room and the amount of items sprawled out everywhere was enough to fill a swimming pool. The kitchen was a mess full of baby bottle pieces and what was most likely your husband's half-eaten meal. You were surprised to say the least, searching the house for the culprit.

You hadn't expected to see your bedroom as the only dark area. Pushing open the cracked door, you entered the room, the only light being the ongoing video that played from your husband's phone. He laid beside it on the bed, eyes closed as he snored softly.

You inched forward, peering around the side of the crib that was next to the bed. The bassinet was empty aside from its normal sheets. Glancing up, you finally spotted the small form resting peacefully on your husband's chest. Both the baby and him continued to sleep peacefully as you cooed in adoration.

"My goodness," you laughed quietly, finding yourself in awe at the image. Despite the reminder that even the bedroom was in disarray, you found yourself fawning over the cute picture before you. You stepped forward carefully, avoiding the items on the floor, wanting to see the image up close.

Like father like son.

Wooyoung's hand was gently over top of your son's back, holding him in place on his own chest. The two looked identical with their mouths wide open as they slept away. They even had matching moles on their bottom lips that stuck out under the phone light.

A sudden movement on the other side of the bed caught your attention. You peeked over Wooyoung to find another body sleeping peacefully. The shape of your toddler underneath the blanket could now faintly be seen. You held back a giggle as you noticed her foot placed right up against the side of her father's face. It took all the power in you not to take a picture, afraid the flash of a camera would wake them. There wasn't enough lighting to be able to see every detail either, so you settled at quietly escaping the room.

You began to work in the kitchen, finding the mess to be a bit easier. The food had gone bad for sitting out too long and the bottles just needed to be tossed in the electric cleaner, a courtesy gift from your mother-in-law, and you'd be practically finished with one room already. Just as you had completed that task, ready to move onto the living room, you were greeted by a sleepy figure.

"Welcome home," Woo yawned out, smiling sleepily at you.

You smiled back. "You're up?"

"Yeah, a certain smell woke me." He scrunched his nose up at the memory of your daughter's foot in his face. "I put the baby back in the crib."

You shuffled through a few toys, tossing them into their separate bins, Wooyoung also sitting on the rug and helping. "I'm surprised you managed to get him to sleep, he's been very colicky."

He nodded softly, still a bit tired. "I rubbed at his belly for awhile and it seemed to help."

The two of you sat in silence after, organizing a handful of things and leaving some for the morning. It was late, you both were tired, and it wasn't going to be long before one of your two children would wake. In order to get a nice warm shower, you needed to be quick.

After some time you managed to clean most of the house into decent shape again. Wooyoung was apologizing profusely, mentioning several times how he wanted it to be clean when you got home. But the story of how your toddler was adamant that the house wasn't clean spoke for itself. He finally accepted fate and let her tire herself out, leaving the house in disarray.

You gathered some items to change into while Woo moved your daughter into her own room. Thankfully, she stayed asleep as you both tip-toed about. He allowed you an escape as you rushed to take that relaxing shower you dreamt about all day.

"Come here," Wooyoung called out to you when you left the bathroom all fresh and changed. He sat on your shared bed, arms out expectantly as his lips formed a sweet pout. "I've been craving your cuddles."

Your heart melted once more for him, caving in quickly as you jumped into his grasp. You snuggled close, head dipping down into his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. "Me too, " you mumbled quietly. "I've been dying to hold you."

He hummed a soft tune, hands grazing down the back of your head. The tender movements started to feel familiar as the gentle strokes to your hair turned into pats on your back. You felt his body relax against the mattress, the song becoming quieter and quieter every second.

"I feel like our son," you murmured, trying not to laugh as your husband's pats became faint. "You're singing me to sleep."

Your words were spoken into the dark bedroom but with no response. Wooyoung had already fallen fast asleep again, the exhaust from the day draining all his energy. You were glad there was at least a bit of his affection saved for you before the night ended. Finally, you drifted off in your own peacefully sleeping state, heart swelling with happiness.

#ateez wooyoung #wooyoung fics #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #jung wooyoung #wooyoung return of superman #ateez as dads #ateez drabbles #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenario #ateez fic

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