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#if you only judge yourself on how much better you are than others you're a sad fucking person
snekdood · 1 year
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The way yall assume the worst about vegans is absolutely tiring. Yeah dude i totally care about inserting my hands into your life and morphing you into the way i think you should be. I totally feel like i need to exert that energy towards you and that you dont have the criticial thinking ability to think about veganism and consider if you truly can or cant. I totally totally care about that dude. Goddamn. Just. so so much.
#and if im vegan for religious reasons would you throw a fit about it?#or is it just when i dont want to hurt animals by eating them that you have an issue?#i dont think im better than you. i just dont want to hurt animals if it can be helped.#if i do that for religious reasons im sure youd leave me alone. probably bc you think whatever i believe in is nonsense anyways.#but suddenly when it becomes about how i dont want to eat animals which would mean killing them for their meat. theres an issue.#why is that do you think?#genuine question#you feel like you can assert to me that no one should care all that much about where their food comes from. unless it effects humans ofc.#(which factory farming does but lets put a pin in that for now)#but when it comes to my religious beliefs. suddenly you stop yourself from asserting to me that i shouldnt have a problem woth meat.#plenty of hindus dont stop themselves. theres a whole debate among hindus about whether ppl should or shouldnt eat meat#you feel like you know enough to lecture me on why ppl shouldnt care when i do it for reasons of not wanting to kill. but i tell you its#for religious reasons and you just walk away?? make it make sense#if you know so much better then counter me on all fronts besides the one you're emotionally invested in#bc youve decided me not eating meat is me judging you for being immoral. so now you're telling at me for just... existing#yelling*#if you feel guilty about killing an animal to eat it then thats on you. im not doing anything hut pointing out that thats whats happeningm#you already know intellectually thats whats happening. we've all known basiclaly our entire lives.#why is it only an issue when i bring up that fact. that we kill them for their meat. does just looking the other way feel better? bc thats#what it seems like.#theres no one i respect least than non vegans who refuse to confront the fact that theyre killing something for their own satisfaction.#non vegans who admit theyre killing for sustenance i have way more respect for. they actually look the action in the face at least#and have made a judgement from actually acknowledging the whole situation.#but non vegans who waft around trying to avoid thinking about how something actually died to provide this food for you-#i have no respect for you.#maybe being thankful before you eat would be a good thing for everyone to do. not towards any god per se but. to at least#acknowledge all the effort and blood that has gone into creating your meal before you. yknow. actually sit w the fact you're eating a cow#or something. not to *make you realize youve been eating meat this whole time and feel guilty*#i genuinely think basic acknowledgement and gratefulness of the source of your food is good for everyone to do in general#and those of us in amercia could REALLY stand to learn how to be grateful about others providing for us.
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lymtw · 1 month
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Late night phone calls with Toji where he's practically buzzing at the sound of your voice. Nothing special about the conversation, but there's just something so delicious about the static on the line merging with your voice. You sound kind of tired and you're sighing just enough to drive him a little crazy.
You have a history of having to fight to get him to listen, regardless of how many times he says that he is listening. You test him by asking questions about what you just talked about and he gets a solid 90%. Most of the time...
This time he wasn't getting anything. It's been a couple days since you last went over to Toji's so he was missing you a little more than usual tonight. But, you called later at night like you usually do to tell him about your day. You'll never get over the way he answers the phone, the most spine tingling hello you've ever heard, each time better than the last, save for when you call him after he falls asleep and he answers in that raspy voice that shakes you to your core. But, as said before, he was getting nothing and you were starting to wonder if he was losing track of what you were telling him.
"Toji? Are you still listening?"
"Yeah, keep talking, princess. Tell me everything."
So you keep going because you believe him, only to be interrupted a second time by something that sounds like a shudder.
"Toji?"
He takes a second longer to answer this time.
"Mm... yeah, doll?"
"You okay? We can go to sleep if you want. I'll see you tomorrow anyway."
His hand is wrapped around his cock, pumping himself as you keep talking. You're kindly offering an out for this phone call. He must be tired. You think maybe that's why he's not talking as much.
"Don't feel pressured to keep talking. If you're tired, you're tired baby. We have all day tomorrow."
He wants to hear your voice as he keeps going, though. If you knew what was happening, would you judge him or would you egg him on?
"Don't worry about it, mama," he groans. "Just really like the sound of your voice 's all. Come on. Talk to me. What else did you do today?"
So you tell him about how you went shopping for a new dress to go out in.
"Wanna see me in it tomorrow? Or should I save it for a more formal date?"
He shudders once again, his abs quivering as he focuses on collecting the pearls of precum that endlessly form on his tip and smearing it all over his shaft. You have him thinking about the last time you wore a dress around him. It ended up being bunched up at your waist as he fucked the soul out of you in the men's bathroom of a restaurant.
"Think you should," he pauses and clears his throat, muttering an unintelligible curse away from the phone. He is seconds away from busting. "Save it for when I can take you out... we're staying in," he pants. "I'm gonna fuck you tomorrow, doll."
Your face goes so red, and you can't help but giggle to yourself despite the rush of nerves that invaded your body.
"Gonna be good for me, right? You're gonna sleep over and let me play with you?"
At this point you feel like rolling off your bed to cool yourself down on the cold floor.
"Of course, Toji. I'm all yours."
You can hear heavy breathing laced with the static on the line.
"Oh fuck... say that again, princess. Again for me."
You've caught on to this freak's game. So you do what you can to make him drip like honey.
"All yours, Toji. Yours to fuck, yours to choke, yours to gag. I'll let you have your way with me tomorrow." You grin as you hear the muffled moans on the other end. "You can put it whereeever you want and i'll take it for you. Just promise you'll fill me up, yeah?"
With that Toji cums so hard that he's rocking his hips against the mattress, his back arching in pleasure and a barrage of expletives are released. He sounds strangled, out of breath on the other end, and all you can do is laugh at the silence that takes over the line. You know he's laying there with his eyes closed, trying to come back to reality.
"You dead, baby?"
"Fuck you," he says, breathlessly, a lazy grin on his face. "I'll see you tomorrow. Better not be lying 'bout what you said earlier."
"Goodnight~"
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yuri-is-online · 10 months
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And in With the New (Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, and Diasomnia x Yuu)
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"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."
"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"
"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."
notes: they/them used for Yuu, their ex is implied to be kind of a shit person, other dorms can be found here (x) Ortho is somewhat included in Idia's part but does not have one of his own.
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Kalim- "Do you have any other things from your world?"
Kalim has expressed a desire for you to see as much of Twisted Wonderland as possible, and he stands by that, but it would really suck if the only physical connection you had to your home was something that brought up painful memories. Your past relationship isn't something that makes him jealous, just concerned since it clearly causes you distress. He can wait to get you more appropriate clothing until after he makes sure you're ok. If the sweatshirt really is the only thing you have from home, he'll be asking if there are any foods you remember or activities you liked to do with the people you actually cared about that the two of you can recreate in Twisted Wonderland. That way you won't have to feel the need to hold onto something painful and he gets to make you happy.
Jamil- "Then why didn't you get rid of it before you came here?"
On the one hand he does feel a bit second rate at the thought of you holding onto something form an ex, but his primary concern is the implication that your financial straights have always been this... dire. He definitely wants to know about your previous relationship so he can judge them for how much better he is, but once he notices that the memories are a bit on the traumatic side he stops pushing and feels just the slightest bit guilty. But really, if it's something that hurts you to hold onto then why do it? You aren't him, you don't need to do that, people love you and want to take care of you, him included. He's not going to just give you his hoodie, he would literally die of embarrassment, but he does get you a sweatshirt. If for no other reason than to keep him from staring holes into your back now that he knows where the other one came from.
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Vil- "It doesn't suit you at all."
If his treatment of Epel is anything to go by, Vil is not above spending money on something he considers to be a pet project. Not that this... friendship is one of those, nor is he particularly jealous of some no name extra who was too blind to beg on their hands and knees to get back in your good graces. Not that he needs to do that you understand; as arrogant as Vil has a reputation for being, he is one of the people who has been more genuine when expressing concern and gratitude for you. His comment isn't meant to be a slight, clothing that makes you feel bad about yourself is failing to do its job as fashion, and as a world class super model that is unacceptable. In other words get in the car looser we're going shopping.
Rook- "Ah, I thought it was something like that."
Is it bad if he says he meant he hoped it was something like that? Not that he was rooting for your ex to be a bad person, he would never wish a subpar lover on you. But when he saw the tattered edges of your sweatshirt and how it clashed with the things you bought for yourself, he hoped that maybe someone in your world hadn't wanted your hands to be cold. If that's not the case, then if you are ok with letting it go as a lover of romance who is he to deny you your freedom? Granted tossing roses onto a fire while you burn an ugly sweatshirt is both very extra and very Rook but hey. He's having fun and you've got a new jacket.
Epel- "Afford shamford I could'a just made ya one!"
Offering their sweetheart their hoodie is something manly tall guys get to do and Epel has really really REALLY. Been looking forward to getting to that point in his relationship with you. He wants to feel like a real man, like your real man to be specific. The thought of some other piece of shit getting to do that first and treating you like a used dish rag pisses him off. Best believe he is huffing and puffing his way back to Grandma Felmier's boot camp with a mission to do you one and your ex two better by knitting you a pullover to go with your uniform. Everything that comes from Harveston is a top quality product prefect, better than whatever you left behind he guarantees it.
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Idia- "So this is that kind of route huh..."
Of course you had a partner back in your world, if he can see your good points then a normie absolutely could. That doesn't make you less appealing, it just makes him feel all that more convinced he doesn't have a chance. He's halfway through whipping out his tablet to excuse himself when Ortho asks what you meant by "shitty memories" and they both get blindsided by just how much vitriol you have for a person whose clothing you technically kept on you. And suddenly he's back in business because there are few things that unite Idia with someone faster than a good old fashion bitch fest. Sure, his insults are weirdly possessive of you, but if he had any doubts about your feelings for this person he doesn't now! He's never heard you talk about anyone like this before and he finds it so attractive he almost forgets to short circuit when Ortho convinces you to try on his hoodie. Almost.
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Malleus- "..."
Sometimes he feels like a broken record, constantly marveling at how little fear you have of him, but really child of man, you have no fear. Malleus has very little in the way of emotional intelligence, so he doesn't fully understand that what he is feeling is jealousy he just knows the thought of you with someone else's clothes hurts. Unfortunately for you both, in addition to not being emotionally intelligent he also isn't with the times and there is a non zero percent chance he will be bringing you a cloak and be genuinely confused when you don't immediately replace your old hide for his. (Lilia takes responsibility for that, he was making a joke honest.) Oh? The point was it's supposed to be something he wore so you can feel closer to him when he's gone? Well why didn't you say so child of man, he is more than willing to offer you a scale- what do you mean you can't wear that either?
Lilia- "Oh? Are you asking for one of mine?"
Shame has not been a word in Lilia's vocabulary since long before you showed up prefect. He always buys oversized clothing because of how cute the long sleeves look on him, but oh they would be so much cuter on you prefect, don't you want to see? Oh and while the two of you are at it, why don't you let him paint your nails and do your eye shadow. He's never had one of those slumber party things you humans do, you should make a night of this so you can both get a new experience out of this. He can have a slumber party and you can be the center of someone's world. Also what do you mean you're supposed to summon the devil at these things, he's already here.
Silver- "Would you like one of mine?"
Lilia raised a very good boy who thinks nothing of offering the shirt off his back to save someone in distress. Silver isn't a jealous person by nature, he's more concerned with making sure you are safe and taken care of than he is making sure you don't still have feelings for your ex. Above all else, Silver wants to be a safe space for you to come home to at the end of the day, like a proper knight in shining armor. Though he does have to admit, you look really nice in Diasomnia colors, they're really close to Briar Valley's so if you decide to come and visit he's assures you that you will fit right in. He's sure his father would be very happy to play host. Maybe too happy.
Sebek- "HOW UTTERLY DISGRACEFUL."
You think he's upset at you but he's not, that's made painfully clear with the rant he starts to go on about proper courtship procedure. Offering clothing to someone is supposed to be a sign of high affection, nay eternal devotion! And it suddenly becomes clear to you that Sebek has somehow managed to confuse the concept of a stolen hoodie and a knight's favor. He seems to have managed to convince himself, in the span of two seconds, that you are wearing this not because it is one of your only pieces of clothing, but because your ex convinced you that they're the only one who could love you which IS NOT TRUE. YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAAAAAAAAND?
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roguerogerss · 5 months
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The President
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader
W/C: 3.2k
Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.
(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)
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“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"
"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."
"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"
"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"
You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."
This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."
Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.
"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.
Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.
"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."
"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.
"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.
"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."
"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."
She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.
Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.
"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.
"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"
You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.
"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.
"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."
The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.
"Coriolanus Snow!"
You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.
"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"
You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.
"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”
-
The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.
The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.
You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.
You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.
You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.
"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.
Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.
Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.
"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.
"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.
"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.
"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.
Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.
You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"
"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.
"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"
You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."
"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."
"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."
"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."
Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"
"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."
"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"
You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.
"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"
"And what would my reward be?"
"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"
You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."
He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.
The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"
"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."
He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.
"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"
You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."
"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.
His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.
"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."
"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."
"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"
Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.
He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"See you soon, President Snow."
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i-cant-sing · 4 months
Note
I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.
No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.
Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.
Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.
Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).
The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"
And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.
You didn't like either nickname.
Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.
Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.
And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.
Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.
Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.
"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"
After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.
The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.
It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"
Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.
Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.
You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.
You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.
It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.
"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."
She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.
She died on the spot.
Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.
She wasn't a fucking Wayne.
If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.
But you didn't.
When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.
"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"
You sighed. Might as well get this over with.
You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.
"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."
Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"
"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."
"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.
"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.
"But I don't want you to move-"
You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"
Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.
"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"
Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"
"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.
-
They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.
He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.
Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.
"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.
"What now?"
"Where are you going?" Tim asked.
"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.
"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?
"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.
"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.
You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-
They were all dead serious.
"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.
"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.
"Bruce-"
"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."
"I'm fine-"
"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."
You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.
Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.
After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.
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moon-rivr · 6 months
Text
treat her better
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pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
warnings: unprotected p in v (be smart 🤨), semi public sex, oral (f and m receiving), choking, smut, and angst
author’s note: hope you all enjoy <3 other woman pt 2 should be out by tmr or the day after 🫡
word count: 4.1k
Your relationship with Miguel was nothing short of difficult when it started, given that he was so detached from the Spider Society after the loss of his daughter. He was the definition of "all work and no play", coming to his office earlier than everybody else and being the last to leave and always rejecting to go out with the group out for drinks. Apart from distancing himself socially, he always found a way to distance himself from you specially at work, pairing you with someone else for missions. You'd given up on trying to form a friendship with Miguel after constant ignoring from him, seeing it as a pointless task.
One night, however, you were surprised to see him actually show up for drinks with you, Peter, and Jess. you figured that Peter probably had pestered him until he finally snapped and agreed, considering he didn't look all too pleased to be spending some time away from HQ. "Miguel, my man! Come, we'll get you set up with some beer," Peter greeted him, waving him to the table as some people around you all turned to look at the screaming man. Miguel shuffled uncomfortably to the table, the realization that the only seat available was between you and Jess hitting you hard. The scent of his cologne overpowered your nostrils, a little part of you surprised that he'd bothered to put this much effort into coming out tonight.
"Girl, you should find someone to spend time with tonight. I mean, when's the last time you got laid?" Jess asked you as she took a sip of her water, the topic of your dating life coming up sooner than you expected. "And you're sure that sleeping with some random man you met a bar is the best way to go?" miguel asked as he drank his beer, his voice more gruff than usual. "Would be better than the stick you have up your ass," you muttered, trying to ignore the way Miguel turned to look at you. You weren't one to shoot back at Miguel’s retorts but you were growing tired by the way he seemed to judge you for everything. From the way that you handled your missions now to where you met men. Luckily for you, Peter came back from the bathroom and started talking about what Mayday had accomplished today.
After a while of talking, you and Miguel were left alone since Jess was taking care of a crying Peter outside. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn't help but steal a couple glances at Miguel, noticing how handsome he looked in the black button down he had on. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer," he spoke up after a while, his eyes boring into you as he did. You rolled your eyes at his retort, being reminded of the reason why'd you never be stupid enough to go after him. "God, you're such an asshole," you responded and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at how uncreative you'd been with the insult.
"Tell me, do you still think i'm asshole?" He purred in your ear after he locked the bathroom door. Even with his cock inside of you, he still found a way to get under your skin. You pushed your hips against his, eager to find some type of friction but your movements were quickly stopped when Miguel placed his hands on your hips. "So impatient," he whispered, his breath causing shivers all over your arms. You knew what he wanted you to do, he wanted you to put your pride aside and beg for him but you didn't want to relent. "This would be much easier if you just did what I told you," he told you, a small chuckle escaping from his lips when he saw your defenses start to weaken. He rolled his hips slowly, not enough to please you but just enough to have you wanting more. "Fine. Please just fuck me," you muttered through gritted teeth, already hating yourself for complying.
"See, now we're making progress. Unfortunately, that's not good enough. Beg like you mean it, chiquita," he responded, a small smirk tugging on his lips. You looked up at the mirror, wanting to punch his perfect face but you decided to comply once more. "Miguel, please. I need it," you whined, letting out a soft moan as he thrust his hips once more. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He teased once more before he set a consistent pace. You hated yourself for submitting to him, in a bar bathroom to top it off, but the way he fucked you made you push those thoughts aside. His balls slapped against your thighs as your back arched while you held against the sink, your fingers rubbing your clit eagerly.
"Hey, are you in here?" Jess called out, knocking on the door and your eyes widened. You wanted to speak up and tell her yes, but you were more worried about letting out a loose moan. "You're gonna have to answer her," Miguel whispered tauntingly as he slowed down his pace. "Y-Yeah! I'm here," you called out to Jess, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. "I'm gonna go home, do you need a ride?" Jess asked, being the protective friend as always and you almost felt guilty for being in this circumstance. "No, I'll t-text you when i get home," you assured her, her footsteps retreating after.
Miguel’s hand went up to your throat, forcing you to look up at yourself in the mirror while he fucked you. Your lipgloss was all tainted from the angry makeout session you had with Miguel earlier and your mascara was rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty taking my cock," he whispered in your ear, his thrusts unrelenting as your walls squeezed around him. He squeezed at your throat gently, your cunt gushing all around his cock and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Should've known mi chiquita's into choking," he teased you, his other hand gripping your hips tightly. You let out a loud moan when his cock brushed up against your g-spot only for Miguel to shush you. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, hm? Now go ahead and rub your clit for me," he told you, the hand around your throat tightening up slightly.
Your orgasm approached you quickly, your release coating Miguel’s cock as he fucked you through it. He let out a small hiss as your walls clamped around his cock once more, his cum painting your walls white. He pulled out his cock a couple seconds later, grabbing a napkin to clean himself up without giving you a second glance. You were unsure of why you expected Miguel to act differently after you were done, but you couldn't help but feel upset at how quick he had left. You fixed up your lips and wiped away at the mascara dripping from your cheeks, trying to hide your disappointment as you walked out the bar.
Miguel, to no one's surprise, went back to ignoring you during work. You wished that it didn't bother you as much as it did, but a part of you still felt some type of longing towards him. You came back from your mission, staggering through the Society hallways as you headed toward the infirmary. The one time that miguel had spoken to you recently was to tell you to take someone else on the mission, but you decided to defy his orders. You removed the drenched cloth that you'd pressed against the gash as you leaned against the counter, throwing it in the sink. "I told you to take somebody, damn it!" You heard his voice before he came in, his nostrils flaring once he did. "It wasn't that bad, it's just a cut," you tried to downplay the situation despite the stinging pain you felt every time you moved.
You had finished up with cleaning up the gash to notice that Miguel was still standing there, his face contorted in a deep frown. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I can't stand to lose you," he told you, your eyes widening as you looked up to make sure you'd heard him right. "I mean the society can't stand to lose you, as a collective," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You pursed your lips and nodded, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already were. You were about to leave when Miguel grabbed your arm, stopping you from grabbing the door knob.
"I know I've been acting like even more of an asshole after the bar, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. Can I take you out to make up for it?" He asked you, your mouth dropping a bit in surprise. "Like to hook up?" You asked him, unsure of what to make of the situation. "No, like a date. I've been meaning to ask you on one but i've chickened out. You obviously don't have to," he responded, completely taking you by surprise. Even though you had multiple questions running through your mind, the main one being 'why?', you decided to agree on going out with him.
Miguel took you to a restaurant he'd discovered in Queens one day, the atmosphere surprisingly pleasant for what part of town you were in. As the two of you shared a meal, you couldn't help but feel Miguel’s gaze on you once more. "Is there something on my face?" You asked him, a little embarrassed but he let out a small chuckle. "No. I just haven't taken the time to really look at your eyes. They're really beautiful under this lighting," he responds, taking a sip from his Coke. "You should cut them up and put them in a jar. Look at them everyday," you responded, using the same strategy he had at the bar. "I would but they look so much prettier when they're attached to your face," he responded, clearly amused by your statement.
The rest of the night was full of playful banter and teasing between the two of you, never a dull moment. Despite all the ways that miguel had found to piss you off and the constant avoiding he'd done, you found yourself wanting to know more and more about him as he shared. He offered you his coat once you two had left the restaurant, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before you two started the walk back home. "I really liked hanging out with you, chiquita. Would you like to go on another date?" He asked you once he escorted you to your room at the society, a hopeful smile on his face. "I'd love to," you responded, grabbing his shoulder and stood up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek.
After that, you and Miguel found time to go on more dates and you couldn't help but fall in love with him a bit more with every bit that he shared. He was very easy to talk to when he wasn't agitated or annoyed, and he seemed to remember all the small details that you shared with him. He wasn't one for big romantic gestures, but he conveyed his emotions with every date that he took you on, treating you like you were the only person worth spending time with. Even members at the society had started to comment on how happy the two of you seemed together, Peter claiming that he knew this was bound to happen.
The first time that you and Miguel had sex as a couple was a complete 180 from the dusty, sticky bar bathroom. He'd decorated the room with some battery-powered candles and put some flowers on the nightstand to provide the perfect atmosphere. He laid you down on the bed when you came into the room, taking it slow as he kissed you. His hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it as his mouth completely invaded yours, taking as much as he could. His tongue and yours moved in perfect synchrony, soft moans escaping from your lips as he did. His lips moved down to your neck, leaving a couple open-mouthed kisses before biting down, wanting to mark you as much as possible. He was careful not to inject you with his venom as his fangs grazed through your skin, his tongue soothing the sting that his teeth had left.
He took his time undressing you, letting out a whistle as he saw the red lingerie you had put on just for him. "You look so pretty like this," he murmured against your skin, his hands moving down to your breasts. His hands lightly kneaded your tits through the bra, sometimes squeezing and tugging at them just so he'd feel them pebble up through your bra. He took it off after teasing your tits for a while, his mouth instantly attaching itself to the right one as he began his attack. His tongue ran over the pebbled nub while his hand massaged the other one, letting out a small chuckle at how you were squeezing your thighs already. Your hands instantly flew to his hair, tugging lightly as he bit down on the soft flesh, giving you a couple matching hickeys.
His fingertips hooked on your waistband before he slowly started to slip your panties off, putting them in his pocket for later use. He pressed small kisses on your thighs, spreading them wider as he got closer to your cunt. He bit down on the inside of your thigh, your hand instantly reaching down to grip his hair. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen," he whispered before he started to slurp on the juices clinging to your folds. You let out a moan as his tongue sucked and slurped at your pussy, Miguel was eating you out like a man starved. You started grinding your hips against his face in hopes to get more friction but he pushed your legs down, keeping an iron grip on your thighs. "Be patient, corazón."
Miguel let out a small groan as your pussy clamped around his finger, barely open enough to take just one. He slowly started pumping it in and out of you, your soft whimpers filling his ears as he did. His mouth went over to your clit, giving it a couple kitten licks before flicking the neglected nub. Once he came to the realization that your pussy had opened up a bit more, he pushed a second finger in and curled them upwards to hit your g-spot with every pump he did. "Mig! Mig!" You moaned out, unable to say anything else as his fingers continued to thrust inside of you. "I know, chiquita. You're taking me so well," he cooed, the vibrations of his voice against your clit sending shivers down your spine. Your toes curled as you felt the coil inside of you tightening up, almost at at the point of snapping completely.
You came all around his fingers, your back hitting the bed once you did. He took his fingers out of your cunt and looked directly at you as he sucked off your juices. You took a couple seconds to come down from the euphoria that you'd felt before getting down on your knees in front of Miguel. He let out a small chuckle at your eager display, his hand coming to your cheek as he stroked it gently. "Qué bonita," he remarked, his cock twitching a bit in his boxers as he saw your doe eyes looking directly at him. (how pretty) You took your time taking off his boxers as he'd done with you, letting out a soft gasp when his cock hit his stomach.
Your tongue slowly swirled around the red tip, your fingers working the precum that had leaked out all throughout the shaft. Miguel kept his hand on your cheek as you started to suck him off, letting out a small hiss as you ran your tongue down the underside of his cock. You tried to fit him in all in your mouth, but you ended up with tears in your eyes as you gagged on it. "Always so greedy," Miguel commented, his hand on the back of your head as he eased you into it. You settled on taking what you could in your mouth for now and wrapping your hand around the base, both of them working in tandem to give Miguel the pleasure that he deserved.
You took his balls in your mouth, struggling to fit them both in your mouth as your hand stroked his cock, tightening up ever so slightly from time to time. Miguel let out soft moans as you did, his grip on the back of your head tightening up just the slightest bit. You flattened your tongue when he asked you to, your cheeks instinctively hollowing as he started to thrust his cock in your expecting mouth. "You were made for taking this cock, chiquita," he moaned as he started to speed up his thrusts, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on him as he used your mouth like his own personal fleshlight, the sight just being enough to make him cum.
The cum dribbled down your chin as you struggled to contain it all in your mouth, only swallowing once Miguel allowed you to. He helped you get up from the floor, his hands on your hips as he kissed you, overwhelmed at the combined taste of you and him. "Get on your hands and knees," he told you, his cock already starting to get hard again for round two. You did as he told you, shaking your ass a bit as you waited for him to get on the bed. "Looks like iI'll have to fuck the impatience out of you," he told you before he slowly started to push his cock inside your pussy.
Your hands gripped the sheets as he started to thrust in and out of you slowly, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time. Miguel grabbed your hands, causing you to fall down on your stomach, and held them against your back as his heavy balls slapped against your pussy with every thrust. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as he saw you wiggle underneath, your face contorted into one of pleasure. "Feels good, nena? Yeah?" He cooed, knowing that you couldn't let out anything but moans of his name at the moment.
You let out a louder moan when you felt one of the ridges of his cock brush up against your g-spot perfectly, your pussy clamping and gushing all over his cock. "Right there, Miguel!" You mewled as you cried onto the pillow, unable to do anything but take it. He sped up with his thrusts, fucking you like a rabbit in heat as he made it a goal to keep it at that angle. His other hand went down to your clit, rubbing small precise circles on it as your pussy clamped around him like a vice. You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly, your vision slowly starting to black out as you squeezed around him tightly.
Miguel came a couple seconds after you did, the part of him that wanted to see you swollen with his children and your tits full of milk fucking the cum back into you. He pulled out slowly, both of you letting out a small hiss as he did. He got both of you dressed and cleaned up before he laid in bed with you, holding you close to his chest as he started to draw small figures on your back with the tip of his talons. You felt a small shiver run down your back as he did but you felt assured that he wouldn't put enough pressure to actually cut you with them. You drifted off to sleep as soon as you closed your eyes, Miguel’s body heat providing you with warmth that no heated blanket could ever compare to.
Eventually after that night, your relationship with Miguel started deteriorating slowly. It started off slowly, with him not giving you small gifts that reminded you of him anymore to just flat out cancelling dates with you. You really tried to be understanding, knowing that he has a duty to the Spider Society and the multiverse, but you craved the warmth of just having your boyfriend around. It felt like he didn't need to put any effort now that he'd gotten to be with you, almost like he was reassured by the fact that you wouldn't leave him. The change in your mood was noticed by most of the members at the Society, most of them making up theories as to why you looked so upset all the time.
"Hey girl, what's going on?" Jessica approached you, sitting across the table as you ate your empanada. "Nothing's going on. How's it going with the baby?" You tried to deflect away from her question but the look on her face was telling you that she wouldn't allow it. The two of you stayed silent for a couple seconds, just looking at each other until one broke first. "It just feels like Miguel stopped putting in the effort into our relationship, like it didn't matter once we had sex. And I keep making up excuses for every time that he ends up not showing up to our dates but I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," you confided in her, her eyes softening up as you finished speaking. This was why you didn't want to share your problems, you didn't want to get that look of pity.
"Look, Miguel may be my friend and all but I've gotta tell you, he's a serious workaholic with no idea how to prioritize what's important to him. If this continues, you'll just end up making more and more excuses for him and you'll end up unhappy. Just wait out to see what happens for a little bit longer before you make any rash decisions though," she offered a bit of advice, rubbing your shoulder as she left. You took her words into consideration, knowing that she had a point but you couldn't help feeling like you were betraying Miguel by ending things.
As you waited in the couch of your apartment, you couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment when Miguel had failed to show up once more. You were starting to fall asleep when the bright flashing lights from the portal woke you, Miguel’s tall frame looming over you. "Sorry I couldn't make it. I got busy with taking care of an anomaly," he told you and you didn't have in you to argue anymore, so you simply nodded. "It's okay, Miguel," you told him despite the pain you felt in your chest as you looked at him. "I’ll make up to you, I promise," he told you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead before walking off to the bedroom.
You called off the following days from work, wanting to clear your mind far from Miguel as you considered if this was truly what you wanted from a relationship. While the idea of leaving Miguel behind you was painful, you couldn't help but wonder if you were only sticking around for the memories. If it was because of wishful thinking that he'd come around to being the sweet, loving boyfriend he'd once been to you. You decided to call Miguel over that night to see if you could try to talk things out with him, how your relationship could be better.
"Look, just because you took time off work doesn't mean that everyone has the damn luxury to skip out whenever they want. Now, what did you call me over about?" Miguel asked you once he arrived at your apartment, his attention still on that stupid gizmo. You quickly came to the realization as you really took the time to look at him for the first time in a while that this relationship would never be a priority to him and that you'd been stupid enough to hope that he would change. "Well? I was in the middle of a briefing," he told you, tapping his foot on the floor expectedly as he folded his arms. You kept your voice even as you spoke the next sentence, not wanting to end on a bad note with him by yelling.
"I want to break up with you, Miguel."
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tarotwithavi · 9 months
Text
Random messages for you from your future lover/future spouse
18+ messages in some piles
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.
These pictures belong to their rightful owners.
Masterlist
Paid services
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Pile 1
"I want to bite your neck and leave my mark there"
"I love the way you walk"
"you look absolutely gorgeous from behind"
"God really took his sweet time creating the masterpiece in front of me"
"I want to worship every part of your body"
"all the lonely nights were worth waiting for you"
"In your arms, I have found my home."
"With you, love is not just a destination but a beautiful journey"
"I will buy you every book you like, but there's a price you must pay"
"In a world of billions, you're the only that makes time stand still"
"The darkness inside me is really to consume you, however I am scared of the consequences"
"If you had any idea about what I want to do to you, you wouldn't be standing here challenging me"
"I want to know everything about you, your likes, dislikes, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, every fucking thing"
"Your whispered desires set my soul on fire"
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Pile 2
"You think you can run away from me love?"
"I crave you, I desire you, I want you. In. every. way."
"I love the way you look right now. You don't need to change anything"
"You're flawless. People who find flaws in you are blind"
"tie your hair up. Show me your neck"
"Your presence lights up my darkest night"
"You can literally sell me poison and I will buy that in gallons from you"
"Your acne scars correspond to the craters on the moon. They make you even more beautiful to me"
"You look so f-able in my hoodie"
"You can be my black cat and I can be your golden retriever"
"I will never force my beliefs on you"
"You look magical in that dress"
"I don't want other guys to be close to you, to touch you, I know it's selfish but it's something I can't help but feel. You make you go crazy over you"
"You're like a Siren, alluring me with your voice, enchanting me with your appearance and making me want to do things that are not so pure"
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Pile 3
"You are so pure so innocent. I feel like I will taint you with my darkness"
"Some things are better as secrets"
"Do. Not. Provoke Me. You'll not be able to handle it"
"I am not that type of person who dreams of getting married on the first date. But something about makes me feel I should wife you up, like right now.
"I want to see a mini you or/and mini merunning around in our house"
"Do you mind if I ruin your lipstick right now?"
"can you see hearts floating around above my head? No? *Gets heart shaped balloons from God knows where, puts them above their head* Can you see them now?
"With you, even the simplest moments become cherished memories"
"I crave the taste of your lips and the touch of your skin, you are my sweetest addiction"
"With you, time flies by like a shooting star, leaving behind a trail of cherished memories"
"Don't leave me. I have loved you too much to be separated from you.
"You make flowers bloom in my heart just from the thought of you"
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Pile 4
"I will work hard for you. I will work hard for us"
"To be honest I will let you step on me"
"Our future is so bright together mama"
"In your arms, time loses its meaning, and all that matters is our love."
"How long do you want me to wait for you? 1 month? 6 months? 1 year? 5 years? A decade? I will wait for you if it means that I can be with you even for a minute"
"I will never judge you for your past. We all make mistakes and it's fine. As long as you don't repeat the same mistake"
"You feel like chopping off your hair? Go ahead, do it. I bet on my left nut you will look good in every hairstyle"
"What makes you think that I wouldn't eat your snacks? Am I not human? Or Do I not have taste buds"
"In the heat of our passion, time fades away, leaving only the intoxicating blend of our souls"
"Your touch ignites a fire within me, and I crave the taste of your lips on mine"
"Baby I am preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive"
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shootingmorningstar · 1 month
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Hiii!!! Would it be ok to request hcs of Lucifer, Husk, Vox with an affectionate s/o please?
Absolutely it is .ᐟ.ᐟ When the gender of the reader isn't specified in a request I default to gn, but if that's not what you were looking for, let me know .ᐟ
LUCIFER, HUSK AND VOX
WITH AN AFFECTIONATE READER.
LUCIFER.
He adores it. Absolutely adores you and every single sweet thing you say to him, every touch you give him. However it may be you usually show you affections, put him on the receiving end and he is absolutely melting. He is so, so sweet to the people he loves. Seriously.
Reach out to take his hand while the two of you are out on a date .ᐣ He is swooning -- especially if you're so excited to be spending time with him you swing your hands together.
The first time you gave him a gift simply because it reminded you of him, he really and truly almost teared up. He is the King of Hell -- he could have anything and everything he ever wanted, but most days it feels like he has nothing.
Nothing that really matters, anyway. What's the point of all the power he wields if he can't use it to be happy .ᐣ Of course, Charlie makes him so, so happy, but even after the pair reconcile, Charlie is a grown woman. She has a happy relationship, wonderful friends and perhaps most of all, she has a cause.
She doesn't have all the time in the world to spend cheering up her lonely father. Living in the Hotel helps, but as soon as she leaves, he finds that empty feeling crawling right back up his spine.
That's exactly where you come in -- a rare blessing in his long, long life. His wonderful partner who came home with a gift wrapped especially for him .ᐣ
The gift has him weak in the knees. It doesn't even matter what's in the box, the fact that you love him enough to think of him even when he's not around means more than you could ever know.
All of your gestures are priceless to him. They're one of the things he loves about you the most.
He goes out of his way to return the thought and care every single time. Please let him spoil you. Let him feel like he's finally using all of that power and money for a good cause because to him .ᐣ There is no better cause. Your smile when he gives you an outfit you'd had your eye on and takes you out to your favorite place to eat is all the thanks he'd ever need.
Your affection has been one of the driving forces that gets him to realize the good in his people he'd been too ignorant to look for was right in front of him all along. If someone as wonderful as you can wind up in Hell, perhaps he's judged his realm too harshly.
You could never, ever be too affectionate to Lucifer and he wants you to know it. Be unapologetically yourself, that's when he loves you best. Never feel like you're smothering him with your love. Your kindness is putting the King back together piece by piece.
HUSK.
Similarly to Lucifer, Husk is a character that could really use your affection. He may not be quite as outwardly sappy about it as the King, but that doesn't make him any less appreciative.
Someone sweet and loving makes for a really good partner for Husk, actually, and on a deeper reason than just the timeless grumpy and sunshine dynamic duo. Someone like you would do good to help bring him out of his shell, bring a little light to his life.
Words of affirmation and acts of service hit him particularly hard. Hearing that he matters from his partner and that he's worth something even now would do wonders for his psyche, as would a simple meaningful gesture, even something as small as cleaning the glasses behind the bar for him. Anything to make his work load just a little bit easier.
Overhearing you tell another resident of the Hotel just how much you adore him may just stop him in his tracks. Not only are you incredibly affectionate to him, you're sharing your love for him with others .ᐣ You care about him that much .ᐣ He's whistling behind the bar counter for the rest of the day and nobody can figure out why Husk of all people is in such good spirits.
One of his favorite things about you is the way you comb through his fur. You're so gentle in the way you touch him for no other reason than not wanting to hurt somebody you love. You work through each snag caught on the brush slowly so as to not hurt him and he is so, so grateful.
Ask him to look up something for you and he's surprised to see his own face staring back at him as your lockscreen. Even moreso when he unlocks your phone and finds the homescreen a picture of the pair of you. Even when you're not meaning to, you're still finding a way to knock the air out of his lungs.
Right before leaving the Hotel for the day you like to stock him up with his favorite snacks behind the bar, something non alcoholic to drink and painkillers if he takes it a little too heavy on the booze.
Husk has a lot harder of a time being so outward with his affections and so replicating it is a little difficult for him, but he will never let you think he doesn't appreciate what you do for him. Just be patient with him.
He will, however, always let you know that your emotions are safe with him, that he will never judge you or your love languages and that the two of you have each other no matter what.
VOX.
To be completely honest .ᐣ I think Vox is a little baffled. How he found himself in a genuine relationship in the first place is still beyond him -- and with someone so loving, at that. Despite the image he tries to sell on social media & television, it's not too hard to figure out that he really isn't that good of a person.
You both are in Hell and most sinners fall for good reason, so despite the fact that making the assumption that a powerful sinner soul being corrupted is easy to make, the large majorities of Hell probably just doesn't have it in them to care.
You're different, though -- you're a shining example of the fact that not all sinners are innately evil, or just too far gone. From the moment Vox had met you, he had seen that you were good.
Why in Hell had you taken a liking to him .ᐣ He's not upset about it per se, just confused. Initially a little frustrated at best. Before you came along, he thought he'd be content, no, happy with the way his life was for eternity.
What didn't he have .ᐣ He had power, he had money, he had allies. What else could he possibly need .ᐣ Relationships were not for him. The strange fling he had going on with Valentino was romance aplenty for him.
That is, of course, until you came along. You had been interested in him from the very start, and you weren't afraid to show it. At first, he saw you as just another sinner to manipulate.
Apparently being kind and loving doesn't equate to a pushover . . . . .ᐣ News to him.
You asked him on a date and were nothing short of wonderful during it, listening to what he had to say with great interest -- but at the same time, you refused to let him speak over you or order you around.
His curiosity is what made him call you back for a second date. And a third, and a fourth.
He's absolutely loathe to admit it, but by the fifth date that excuse grows worn. He's not just curious about you, he's grown used to your presence. Even sort of misses you when you go. How annoying.
Maybe it's refreshing to have someone support him without secondhand motives, or maybe it's an error .ᐣ He usually can't stand being disrespected. Either way, he grows used to having you around, having your support and love.
He will NEVER bring you to the Vee's meetings. Not after he's come to consider you his. He doesn't want to risk Velvette's cocky attitude being contagious and he will absolutely never leave you around Val. He doesn't mind Val being .... the way he is, but to you.ᐣ Absofuckinglutely not.
Having a partner is seeming to do wonderful things for his image, and he comes to love you in his own very Vox-y way, so continue on with your doting and affections. Keep memorizing his favorite drinks and especially don't stop fixing his bowtie and kissing his cheek before he leaves for work.
Congratulations, you've fixed him . . . .ᐣ Kinda sorta .ᐣ Pet trained .ᐣ Who knows. But you're happy and he's happy, and that's all that matters.
I hope these were to your satisfaction .ᐟ I have a hard time imagining any sort of relationship with Vox as being overly healthy because we all saw the kind of person he is. With that in mind, I tried to do my best for a workaround to keep it in line with both the prompt and his character.
Let me know how I did .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated to write, as always ~ .ᐟ
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sgtgarricks · 2 months
Text
afab!reader
i think john price would be sooo incredibly oblivious to your advances to the point it pisses you off.
imagine you've had a crush on your captain for a few months now, you've dug around information and find out that yes, he is single.
so you get to work.
you smile at him whenever you see him (the only other person you usually smile at is soap). you try to stay later than usual to catch him leaving just so you can have a few minutes of extra conversation with him.
you're kind of touchy (but not too much), brushing your fingers with him whenever you get the chance. whenever you get called into his office, you make sure to crack a joke or two, just to see his eyes crinkle.
you were down bad for him. like, really bad. whenever he even slightly smiles or praises you, you preen like you just won a gold medal and your face feels hot.
so, you genuinely don't understand how he seems so unfazed?? at the very least he should've felt something was up and rejected you if he wasn't into it. but nope, he's still smiling at you, ruffling your hair.
okay, you think maybe you're being too subtle. it's been three months and there isn't any response.
you begin to bring him little gifts. nothing expensive or big, trinkets that would fit in your pocket. a little keychain of a cigar, a pin of his favorite football club, packets of his favorite coffee flavor.
"oh, what's this for then?" he'd asked, glancing at the little keychain.
"nothin'. just saw it and reminded me of you!" you grin happily. he still seems confused, but accepts your gift anyway.
"thank you, that's very kind of you :)" he gifted you one or two items, even going as far to let you ride shotgun on missions. you were feeling fairly optimistic.
this goes on for another three months, you bringing him something once every two weeks. it's gotten to the point where even soap and gaz have realized what's up (simon doesn't give a fuck).
"you got favorites now? don't think we've ever received a gift from 'em gaz." soap loves to make fun of your infatuation with price. gaz doesn't start anything, but he'd gladly chime in.
after half a year, you're pissed off. because how has he not said anything yet?? you thought he was starting to catch your drift but apparently not. he was either leading you on or genuinely thinks you were just being friendly.
you're over the top now, even simon's cringing slightly at you blatantly gushing over the captain.
you were linking your arm with his if you two walked somewhere together (his forehead did the little scrunch from confusion but didn't say anything).
anytime he wanted to show you something, you'd come around and stand as close to him as possible. one time you even put your head on his shoulder to read the document.
even your jokes had gotten more flirtatious without being overtly sexual. yet still... nothing.
you were pissed. you've been throwing yourself at him every chance you got, any more you'd get written up for fraternization. the next time all of you go out for drinks at the pub, you decide it's do or die.
you put on your best dress, one that hugs your figure nicely. you even do your hair and put a bit of make up on. tonight was the night you were either going to have your heart broken or have a good time.
when you open the door to the pub, you know gaz spots you first judging by the drink he just spat. soap turns and whistles, laughing loudly (simon didn't come). you see price is missing, but you find him at the bar ordering drinks. you slink next to him.
"another one for me?" he spins at the sound of your voice, eyes going wide for a fraction of a second. he coughs and brings up another finger to the bartender.
"you look..." he begins, you inch yourself forward to hear him better and shove something in his face. "different." the smile instantly drops from your face. you pull him away from the bar easily (he let you) and drag him outside.
"why are we out here?" he questions innocently. you huff, not believing the audacity of this man in front of you.
"captain. with all due respect, i don't know how many more signs i can give you before i lose my mind. i have my tits out," you gesture at them and his eyes falls downwards before going back to your face, "and you haven't even looked once."
"i like you, you can kiss me right now or tell me to fuck off and transfer me." you cross your arms, lips turning down into a frown. he was in shock, you can almost physically see a loading bar on top of his head.
to your surprise, he cups your face and leans down to kiss you. your heart was thumping and mouth slightly agape, but the only response you could think of was, "were you really that oblivious?"
"sorry, love. i thought you were just trying to ride shotgun." he grins.
what an idiot (affectionate).
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notes: ahfudshf my stupid old man <3
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stawbeemilk · 2 months
Text
⤷ insecurities they think are beautiful – hq
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✩ characters: various
✩ warnings: none
✩ a/n: my first post eek! this is pretty self-indulgent shdjsj but i hope it makes someone else feel a little better about themselves as well ◡̈ enjoy!
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⭑ stretch marks
he literally thinks they're so pretty, and can't understand why you'd even be self-conscious about them in the first place— as far as he's concerned they only make you even more beautiful. nothing makes his heart ache more than seeing you pulling down your shorts or skirt in an attempt to hide the pretty marks residing on your thighs. he likes to trace over them when the two of you are cuddling, fingertips grazing over each mark adorning your skin while his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration, hoping that in time you'll start to appreciate them just as much as he does.
⤷ bokuto, sugawara, goshiki, inuoka, koganegawa, washio, kita, aran
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⭑ hip dips
he often finds himself staring at your hips, unable to take his eyes off them— it doesn't help if you're wearing something a little tighter than usual that hugs your figure in all the right ways. the last thing he wants is for you to feel as if he's judging you, but he doesn't miss the way you subconsciously try to hide yourself from his gaze whenever you notice his eyes wandering and he swears he feels his heart shatter a little more each time. if he catches you looking at your body in the mirror for a particularly long time, he'll come over to you and rest his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze as he looks at your reflection with a tender smile.
⤷ iwaizumi, suna, yamaguchi, akaashi, aone, semi, sakusa
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⭑ soft tummy
in his eyes, your tummy is just the cutest thing, and he sometimes has a hard time keeping his hands off you. he likes to randomly come up behind you when you're just going about your day, hands wrapping around your waist before discreetly slipping underneath your shirt to squish the soft flesh. after a long day, the only thing he wants is to come home to you and rest his head on your tummy while you play with his hair— and usually, that's exactly what he does. with the way he presses his lips against your skin and nuzzles into you, it's hard to feel insecure around him as it's so obvious how much he adores you.
⤷ osamu, yamamoto, komi, matsukawa, daichi, kai, futakuchi
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⭑ imperfect teeth
he absolutely loves your smile, it's one of his favourite things about you. it was one of the first things he noticed about you when the two of you met, and it still makes his heart flutter just as much as it did back then— nothing breaks his heart more than seeing you erupt with laughter without a care in the world, only to hide the lower half of your face behind your hand a few seconds later. he won't hesitate to grab hold of your wrist, gently prying your hand away and granting him a full view of your cute smile. who cares if it isn't entirely perfect? it only makes him adore you even more, and he wishes you could see what he sees.
⤷ fukunaga, kuroo, hanamaki, nishinoya, konoha, hoshiumi, komori
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⭑ small chest
he honestly doesn't even understand why you don't like them. he's not trying to invalidate your feelings or anything, he just… doesn't get it. whenever you express any sort of insecurity regarding your chest size, his response is always “but there's nothing wrong with them?” because he genuinely thinks you're perfect just the way you are. he encourages you to wear tighter or lower cut tops that accentuate your chest, and won't hesitate to let you know how pretty you look, feeling his heart flutter when he sees you smile bashfully and grow a little more confident from his words. likes to tell you that when he hugs you it just means your hearts are closer together <3
⤷ yaku, oikawa, kunimi, tendou, hinata, kenma, atsumu, hirugami
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⤷ please do not repost my works on any other sites!
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somnambulic-thing · 6 months
Text
Shhh
Just thinking about Eddie coming home from a three cities in five days tour, his voice completely gone.
He looks miserable when he tries to say hello to you despite better knowledge and you flinch at the sound, hearing the pain in the scratch deep in his throat. You clasp a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before he can hurt himself more.
Good thing there's a full weekend before he has to go back to the workshop on Monday, where his day job is waiting for him.
You tuck him into bed, throw a sketchpad and a pen at him and try to turn to get some camomile tea brewing but he snatches the back of your shirt and pulls you in, tucks you against his chest and just holds you there.
It's a weird silence, you can feel the words rattling around in his chest cavity and you're impressed and proud at how much restraint he's showing.
When he lets you go reluctantly, you smother his face in kisses, assuring him you'll be right back. He grins, voices a scratchy hum and softly slaps your ass when you wiggle out the bed.
In the kitchen, you start to get busy finding everything that will help to restore his voice again as fast as possible. You had started to miss it in all its ever-changing variations when you had come home on Monday to an empty apartment to many small voids where Eddie's presence usually lingers in the things he cherishes the most, uses every day.
Clothes and books - he packed too little of one, too much of the other as always - an off-white spot in the shape of a guitar over the armchair that's the only void that won't stay empty in his absence. Not only because you like sitting in this spot, though usually got no chance to sit in here when Eddie is around, but because it smells of him, because you can sink into the impression his presence has left there over the years.
You only have dried sage right now but you'll get fresh one and some other things when he's settled and asleep which shouldn't take too long, judging by the soft purple half-moons under his eyes. He's not getting any younger and hoisting amps at two in the morning after a busy concert days leaves traces now.
Maybe he has already passed out, you think. You've been busy in the kitchen for more than five minutes and he hasn't sneaked up on you yet, impatiently wrapping his arms around you from behind, sinking his face into your shoulder.
But when you get back to the bedroom with a pot full of steaming hot camomile and sage tea and a jar of honey, he's still awake, frantically filling the sketch pad with his scratchy-elegant handwriting.
He looks up when he hears you enter and makes a small, high pitched noise in his chest, his smile a soft curve of gratitude and admiration.
He pulls you back into the bed with him, pulls your legs into his lap and puts an obscene amount of honey into his first cup of tea. You chuckle and make a stupid joke about bees or something when your eyes start to move over the first page of five he had filled in your absence. You don't finish the joke, the thought fading as you fall into the report of his days away.
It's a ritual that you're fond of. It bridges the gap that had opened when you stopped dragging yourself to every gig just for the sake of it. You didn't miss the stress and the claustrophobic haze of it all - after all, you're not getting any younger either - but you missed his euphoria, missed to share his joy and whatever else got his blood pumping fast and hot and wild.
You read it all out loud, commenting in between, forming your inquisitive thoughts into yes or no questions, chuckling, marvelling, ranting, all while Eddie drinks his too-sweet tea in small sips and enlivens your narration with his facial expressions and small grunting noises.
You try not to laugh too hard, for it always makes him laugh as well and you think he knows you're holding back if the way he keeps kissing the corners of your tightly sealed lips is anything to go by. Like small thank you's because you caring for him when he's unwell still blows him away a little, even after all this time.
"You tired?" you ask, when the written report ends mid-sentence and you look up to find Eddie nodding off with his head rolling against the wall. He cracks open one eye, shakes his head, shakes himself awake and no to your question, a hand reaching out to the sketchpad in your lap.
"You can finish that later, Ed." You pluck the cup from his other hand before he can spill whats left in there over the sheets. "You look like shit."
He snorts a laugh, then coughs.
"Shit, sorry."
"S'ok-ay--" he croaks, using his vocal cords out of habit and coughs some more.
"Shhh," you say and start rubbing soothing circles into his back for as long as it takes for the dry, sore heaving to subside again.
"Okay, now you sleep. I'm going out to get some th--"
A hand over your mouth shuts you up. He's shaking his head, fumbling the notepad out of your lap at last with the other one.
Don't want you to leave. Take a nap with me?
"I won't be long, I join you when I get back."
He shakes his head again.
Please?
You barely have time to look at the word when he starts manhandling you up the bed and pulls you down with him, burying his face in your chest.
"Alright," you say, weaving your fingers into his hair while something more than his breath starts to spread warmth through your ribcage. "Alright, I stay."
You feel his muscles relax, his breath even out. Seconds later, he's asleep.
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nocturnalrat · 10 months
Note
Hear me out…
1610! Miles comforting reader after she get jealous because of how much he’s been around Gwen and he’s just touching and kissing her in all the right places and makes sure that reader knows that he loves her and only her 🙈💕
Thank you for the great prompt! I had lots of fun writing this. :p <3
---
It was truly infuriating.
You hadn’t seen each other in a week due to school work keeping you busy, and there had been a surge of criminal activities in New York, which is why Miles had been occupied most of the time as well.
And now, when the two of you were finally able to hang out again, he kept talking about someone else entirely.
You were lying on the bunk bed in his dorm room, listening to him ramble on about the adventures he had lived through last week.  
“You should have been there, the way Gwen incapacitated the guy was like something out of a movie.” He gesticulated frantically with his hands as he vividly described last night’s care chase.
"That sounds really fascinating," you grumbled.
After hearing your unfazed (and slightly sarcastic) tone, he looked up from his chair. "You don't sound very impressed, though."
How could you have told him that his constant stories and songs of praise about Gwen were starting to annoy the heck out of you?
Jealousy was an ugly emotion. To confess to it was shameful, exposing; you wanted to be the easy-going, cool and confident kind of girlfriend, but Miles was making it really hard for you to not seethe with anger and discontent.
"Everything okay?" he asked, and you avoided his gaze. Lying was easier when you didn’t look him into his eyes. They always were too honest and seemed to notice too much.
"Sure," you said.
He saw through your charade immediately, and climbed onto the bunk bed to be closer to you.  "There's something bothering you. I can tell."
"You can't tell shit," you said before you could stop yourself. There was anger in the pits of your stomach threatening to take over.
"Did I say something wrong?"
Yes.
"No."
"Then why are you frowning like that? It looks like you’re ready to kill someone. It better not be me."
Fuck. Were you really scowling that obviously?
"You and Gwen get along great, huh?”
"We certainly do." He tilted his head. You recognized that look on his face – it was the same one he had when struggling to solve complicated math problems. "Why’d you bring her up?"
"Why do you keep bringing her up?" you snarled. "We weren’t able to have a single conversation in the last few weeks without you mentioning her a dozen times. Not to mention the fact that you spend way more time with her than you do with your actual girlfriend.”
Shoot. Now you had done it; you had shown weakness.
Miles stared at you incredulously. "Wait a minute - are you jealous?"
You crossed your arms and looked pointedly at the ceiling.
"Absolutely not."
"Nuh-huh. That's why you're pouting." He grinned, and his lighthearted reaction only intensified the nauseating feeling of jealousy. "You know, part of me wishes you could come with us when we're patrolling, just so you could witness how much I talk about you when I'm with Gwen. But the other part of me is terrified of you being with us, as it would be incredibly dangerous for a civilian.”
"Yeah." Biting sarcasm. "I'm sure that's what you talk to her about."
"It is!" He scrambled over to you and leaned in close. "You don't have the faintest idea how important you are to me, do you?
"Can’t be that important, judging by your behavior.”
"Not that important!" he repeated indignantly. "I think about you all the time. How you're doing, what you're doing, if you need anything - always. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep!"
"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it,” you mumbled.
“What do I have to do to make you believe me?” He brushed an unruly strand of hair from your forehead, and the gentleness of his touch loosened the knot in your stomach the jealousy had caused. You had only recently started dating, so every little touch of his felt all the more exciting.  
You looked at him, and his wide eyes were filled with worry.
“Do you guys have to hang out so much?” you asked reluctantly. “How would you feel if I suddenly spent all of my time with an attractive guy who was single?”
He furrowed his brows. “Well, I wouldn’t be thrilled,” he began slowly. Then he shook his head. “Okay, scratch that, I’d be really pissed.”
You almost laughed. He was just like you.
“Then you know exactly how I feel.”
He kissed the corner of your mouth. "You really have no idea, do you?"
The almost-kiss had distracted you, and it took a moment for you to reply. “No idea about what?” you asked, a little breathless.
"About the things I'd do to make you happy." With a tender gesture, he took your face in his hand and caressed your cheek. "I love you more than anything in this world." The kiss that followed made any doubt you had disappear in an instant. He was telling the truth, that much was evident. “Next time, you can just straight up tell me what’s bothering you. Although I have to say, I kind of like it when you’re acting all jealous and cute.”
“Fuck off,” you said, but it was with a smile. You playfully tried to push him off of you, but he buried his face in your neck.
He was stronger than you, and his weight was pressing against you in a way that made it impossible for you to escape. Not that you wanted to - not when his lips had found your neck and left a sensation so new and good that you couldn't help but let out a sigh of contentment.
“I love you,” he said, His voice was so full of affection that it warmed your heart. “Only you. Always you. I won’t be patrolling with her as much in the future, I promise.”
At times, you wondered how someone as great as him had ended up with someone like you. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. His eyes shimmered with an amber-like hue; the smile that graced his face was a breathtaking image.
He appeared radiant in the sunlight, and in his presence, you felt a profound sense of peace and trust overcome you.
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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months
Text
The One I Want
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Notes: This is part one of a new series.
Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.
Words: 1622
Masterlist
---
You’re going to be new again. You’re so terribly tired of being new. But that's how it’s always been. Never in one place long enough to be considered a usual in town. Never a constant in anyone’s life. No. You’re the new girl, because people don’t give you a choice to be anything else. 
You learned it quite young. People’s lingering glances have nothing to do with curiosity or intrigue. They don’t stare because you’re particularly beautiful or unique-looking. Rather, they watch you so they may judge and criticize and tease. You learned it doesn’t fade as you age. People are people, and not all of them grow. Unfortunately for you, those people are scattered about the world as much as the good-hearted ones. But the good-hearted never approach you. They never look your way. 
Eventually, as it goes, the life you’re living, surrounded by those people, becomes too much. You get tired again. You leave that disappointing town. You find somewhere new. You repeat. The many places you’ve been have become tainted, and now you’re left with few. So few that two nights ago, instead of four different cities scribbled on notecards to choose from, there were three. The options are slimming. You put the cards in a bowl, closed your eyes, and now you’re a California resident, for however long that may be.
It’s extreme, you sometimes think—writing off a whole city or town when they’re full of other neighborhoods with different people who have fresh pairs of eyes—but it makes you feel better. You can say to yourself that you no longer live in that city or town. That city or town was an old life. 
In your new life—born from the moment you crossed the state line all of four hours ago—you’ve yet to feel out of place. Things have kept from souring. No wrong turns. No bad weather. A new apartment awaiting you from an ad you’d answered the day prior. The ad included a roommate you don’t want, but it’s cheap and all you can afford until you get a job. 
It’s also a risk. This “Jake” guy could be as bad as the rest, but there’s only one way to find out. And if he is bad—well, you’ve got two more notecards in your bag.
It’s nicer than you expected, and that brings forth a hearty handful of questions. Why would this guy need a roommate if he lived here? Why is the rent so cheap? And when you finally knock on the door, Jake is actually…a woman?
You do a quick scan of her face and form. She’s beautiful in nearly every conventional way. Her features fit in all the right places on her face. Her body is proportional, filling out clothes the way they are meant to be filled out. She’s intimidating. Not the roommate you expected, and certainly not a roommate you can handle having. She might very well be lovely, but you don’t need a daily reminder of what you are not. 
“Are you…Jake?” you ask.
“Natasha. You’re in the right place,” she replies, moving aside to make room for you to pass the threshold. 
Looking around, you almost gasp. The interior matches the grandness of its exterior wrapping. Lofted ceilings; natural light; walls painted in thick, throughout coats so as not to allow the slightest hint of their previous shade to peek through. It officially confirms what you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before—you’ve grown too accustomed to living in dumps. From the shine of the floor alone, you know you’ve never held yourself to this guy’s standards. 
Will I have to meet those standards? 
“Jake couldn’t be here so he asked me to let you in,” Natasha says. “The key is on the counter.”
“Right, um–” You swallow, unsure how to ask what could easily be interpreted as rude. “And this Jake guy, is he…”
“Not a creep,” she promises with a light smile, “Just irritating.”
“That’s a relief.”
“If you like arrogant pilots.”
You almost tell her that a know-it-all plane man is probably one of the last people you intend to worry about—falling in place next to old ladies, babies, and tiny dogs—but you keep your mouth shut. She doesn’t need your story. And if Jake is a pilot, then it seems safe to say he won’t be around enough to bother figuring you out, either. 
“I can handle a pilot.” As long as he keeps to himself—Another thing you don’t say. 
The brunette nods. “Then this might work out after all,” she says before giving you a once-over. “He’ll definitely be surprised by you, though."
That stops you, nudging you back into a past you’re trying to forget. It makes your breath catch in your throat. Your ears begin to thump from a quickening pulse. “What do you mean by that?”
Chocolate brown eyes widen briefly before relaxing back into an indifferent mask. “Nothing. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” she says. Another smile. Same as before. Then, “If you’re okay, I actually have somewhere to be.”
Releasing a tense exhale, you plaster on a smile of your own. “I’m good. Thank you.”
She nods and makes her way toward the door, wrapping slender fingers around the brushed nickel knob. “Jake said to let you know he’ll be back late. So you have some time to get acquainted with the place.” 
She twists the knob and steps through the open frame. When the door has nearly eclipsed the remainder of her body, she pauses and her eyes meet yours. “I hope you'll like it here. It’ll be nice to have another woman around to dilute the testosterone,” she says. Then she’s gone. 
Standing in the apartment alone, you feel like an intruder. Though Natasha told you to get acquainted, you can't imagine going on the hunt for your bedroom, or unpacking your clothes, or reclining on the couch with a snack from the refrigerator. Something in you says it's better to stand in the same spot until your roommate returns to lead you about the place himself. If only you knew when that would be.
The only thing clueing you in that, at some point, you’d fallen asleep in the armchair by the bookshelf is the key-in-lock sound now stirring you awake. You jolt up out of the chair to find the sun had set so long ago that not a sliver of orange on the horizon remains. How many hours had been wasted making up for lost sleep when you should’ve been rehearsing how to respond to all possible reactions your roommate might have upon seeing you?
It doesn’t matter. You’re out of time now. 
You’ve barely readjusted your shirt to hide the exposed line of your bra by the time the door opens. But the man who walks through is far from what you imagined, and you had imagined plenty. 
You wait for a second, breath trapped in lungs. But then you realize he has yet to notice you, so with curious eyes, you use his unaware moment to truly notice him. 
He’s tall, broad, with short sandy blond hair and a jawline you’ve not seen on any man outside of a TV screen or glossy magazine page. Sharp like etched marble. His stubble is a day's worth, and while you suspect it’s not a representation of his usual appearance, you can’t say it doesn’t suit him well. 
Through pink parted lips you hear the exhale of his sigh, and suddenly see from the slump of his shoulders as he removes his jacket to hang on a nearby hook that he’s as tired as you are. Likely for very different reasons, but tired all the same. An affliction of sorts you understand too well.
When he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe off the exhaustion like a wet rag removing dirt from skin, you get your first full image of him. Before it was just his profile. That was enough to tell you plenty, but straight on he’s…more. From the hallway light, you catch a glimpse of the green hue of his eyes. You notice the tanness of his arms–not natural, but from spending too much time in the sun–and the veins that trail along them like rivers in the earth. 
You’re suddenly not so sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. Men like him you’ve dealt with before, and it doesn’t often do you well. However, you promised yourself that with each town, you’ll pretend your past pain doesn’t exist so you may approach the new people and places without preconceived opinions. It’s a struggle of a promise to keep, but you do your best. And having just arrived, it would be silly not to try to do your best here as well. 
Those green eyes finally find yours and he stops short, almost stumbling as if he forgot to expect you. But he recovers quickly, standing straight and sturdy to confirm his height. His slightly slackened jaw coupled with the stare he gives you, however, doesn’t quite manage the same impressive recovery rate. His face can’t hide his surprise. 
A throat-clearing is followed by, “You’re my new roommate?”
You can’t tell if there’s judgment in his tone. Disappointment, maybe? He’s still staring. 
“Yes,” you say calmly, giving him a chance to not be the prick you suspect he might be. Don’t break your promise, you internally scold.
His gaze lingers on each feature of your face. Eyes pause at your lips before traveling lower; much lower until he reaches your toes then makes his way back up to where he started. 
A beat passes. He swallows hard. Then that deep voice, having turned a bit husky, mutters a soft, “Fuck.”
---
A/N: again, this is a new series. So part 2 soon. I hope you liked it :)
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @penguin876
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babushkatty · 4 months
Text
Tranquil SAGAU - Part 3
-> Part 1
-> Part 2
-> Part 4
Turns out, you did jinx yourself last week.
You should have learnt your lesson from all those times you and your sister had spoken bad luck into existence, be it unannounced guests or other inconveniences.
But you didn't, so here you were.
Staring down motherfucking Ursa the Drake, with Dvalin pinning them (her?) down with his massive body and motherfucking Crepus Ragnvindr looking at you both simultaneously like it's Christmas and like he thinks he's schizophrenic.
Diluc didn't look any better. He was as white as a sheet and if you were any better at identifying emotions, you'd think he was about to cry.
...surely not?
But then again, he was younger than in the game and his father was right there, alive and well - you doubted he was anything like the cold and grumpy Diluc who closed himself off from the world that you knew.
A terrified baby that was probably overthinking how Ursa would kill him, his father and the whole cohort they traveled with all the way to Tuesday.
...now you just felt bad for judging. You wouldn't be any better in his place, especially without your scary Dvalin priviledges.
"Ursa, darling, what exactly are you doing?"
All you got for your troubles was a roar in your face.
Except it didn't even feel like a scary dragon about to eat you, it felt like a child throwing a tantrum.
...the notion of Ursa being this uncontested and plaguing Mondstadt for a thousand years while being a mere child was kind of terrifying actually, so you very deliberately decided not to dwell on it. For your own sanity, if nothing else.
"Dvalin, you know Ursa, so... Any ideas?" You asked the dragon, who looked almost bored as he outright lounged on Ursa as if they (she?) were his beddings. If that didn't make a statement, you didn't know what would.
"While we did not cross paths frequently in the past, I had always thought her to be... Especially nefarious."
Ursa trashed around, but Dvalin didn't budge and effortlessly kept them (her? her.) pinned down.
"She reminds me of Durin. But where Durin was oblivious to the grevious harm he caused and merely wanted to play, Ursa is fully conscious and reveling in the pain she inflicts on others, often being open to agreements that involve human sacrifice."
Ursa screeched. In protest, maybe?
"For now, there is not much that can be done. You would need to be much stronger to subdue her permamently, which requires time. But I shall stall her until you are strong enough, alongside Boreas."
Oh.
So your scary Dvalin priviledges were being voided. It was a shame, you really liked his company -- his stories were a delight to listen to and he spoiled you rotten for comfortable accomodations, any bed or chair from now on would be a massive downgrade.
Still, it was understandable. Responsibilities and human lives were priority over your comfort. You weren't going to complain too much.
"I'll miss you," you say as you stroke his wings, not really having access to his torso or head to hug him properly due to Ursa.
Speaking of Ursa...
"Be good. You're making trouble for everyone."
And maybe you were being reckless and simply asking for your arm and face to be bitten off, but you flicked her on the snoot, because you only live once and Dvalin had you mildly convinced nothing in Teyvat would hurt you.
Ursa startles and then, honest to God, whines.
Dvalin huffs in what you assume is amusement and grabs at Ursa with his massive limbs. His wings stretch as he readies himself to take flight.
"I will miss you too, (Name)."
And just like that both dragons are gone like the wind.
...
That left you all alone to face the Ragnvindr and C.O., so you put on your customer service smile and clap your hands in fake excitement you really don't feel.
If nothing else, working in retail taught you how to play the fool.
"So, now that that is done and over with. I believe you have a mess to clean up?"
Crepus looks at you like you grew an extra head, before doubling over in a hearty laugh that broke through the weird atmosphere that settled over the caravan as easily as a hot knife through butter.
Diluc still looks like a poke would knock him over, but at least he got some colour back in him.
"Ah, thank you for that."
Crepus walks over to you and offers you a handshake, gripping your hand firmly and with enthusiasm that was entirely on him. Not that you weren't excited to meet characters from Genshin... but that was the thing, wasn't it? They weren't the characters you knew in Genshin. Crepus was barely a mention, Diluc was a different person entirely and the rest of the caravan were either NPCs hanging around on the map somewhere or didn't exist in the game at all.
So, you had to treat them like actual people.
And you weren't good with people.
"No problem. I'm (Name) (Last Name), just call me (Name) please."
Smile through the pain Harold, grant me your strength.
"Crepus Ragnvindr, and the redhead over there is my son, Diluc. It's a pleasure to meet you, (Name)."
He lets go of your hand and smiles so brightly you half-heartedly wished for some sunglasses. Was this man sunshine personified? Certaintly felt like he was.
"I would say I wish we met under different circumstances, but that's not exactly the truth, is it? Any other circumstances would have me trying to fight Ursa the Drake and that was bound to end badly for me, so... Thank you for saving my life."
And at that precise moment the Knights of Favonius spurred on by Kaeya Alberich himself burst into the scene, weapons ready.
...Kaeya looked like such a baby too, it had you thinking on just how young the literal children like Diona would be.
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
Suprise, we're 4 years early in the timeline! And I have no idea what the timeline is besides what little I glimpsed from the Wiki, so lore accuracy is thrown out the window!
✨ I still can't tag the one person that asked to be tagged and I'm feeling horrible for it even when it's not my fault ✨
Also, yes, ✨ is my favourite emoji, why do you ask? :D
Also, also -- yes, I did pump out 3 parts in 2/3 days, it is an anomaly, do not expect such pace from me especially since I'm about to throw myself head first into HSR.
✨Self-plug time✨
My UID is 715 837 832 and I got a lvl50 Bronya as support.
I am still on Walt copium, even though I didn't get him even once despite the many, MANY rerolls I did, but that is neither here nor there.
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writingforstraykids · 1 month
Note
Pls share your soft thoughts for Felix!!
Oh Lix, I do have some soft thoughts on him. Also thank you to @zehina and @atinyniki for sharing some ideas🖤
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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Felix thrives on skin contact, he'd stay right in your arms forever if he could. If you're comfortable with long hugs, subtle touches, holding his hand, or playing with his hair, then you become the source of his energy. He comes to you when he needs to recharge. He hugs you tight, plants himself on top of you, or holds your hand for hours. It doesn't really matter as long as he can feel your presence, your body warm against his.
If none of you is on a diet, he'll shower you with tasty goods. He can't stop spoiling you by baking all sorts of things you love so much. He has accepted his fate, getting called "Brownie boy" by you whenever he ends up in the kitchen baking. Felix knows how much you love those brownies and cookies, so of course, he always keeps some around. What's even better is if you join him, helping him mix the batter and making a mess with him between giggles and playful fights.
Felix is an enthusiastic gamer. The first time you ask him to play with him, he is over the moon for you. He shows you the basics and thinks you're even sweeter than before. If you don't feel like playing yourself, he enjoys keeping you in his lap, claiming you're his lucky charm. He might've cried a little when you offered to help him build his own equipment.
Lix's soft soul is something that needs to be protected, and he hasn't met many people who are as protective of him as you are. He lets you in, allows himself to be open about his feelings with you, and knows you'd never judge him for anything. You're his safe place when he feels like everything is crumbling down around him.
Felix's smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. The way his freckles seem to crawl up into his eyes, illuminating them like stars painting the night sky, steals your breath every time. He's so genuine and easily smiling whenever he watches you doing the most basic things, it makes you swoon.
Lix can get a little emotional at times, never fully believing he deserves the love he receives from his friends, fans, and especially not you. Whenever those big, soft eyes fill with tears, he comes to you, gently tugging at your sleeve and curling up in your arms without any further explanation. He doesn't have to because you already know.
That is why whenever you're upset or feel undeserving of love, his heart breaks with yours. He pulls you into his arms, kisses your hair and fondles your head, gently rocking you in his arms. He whispers little secrets and sweet nothings into your ear, trying to show you how much you mean to him. He knows he isn't the problem here, but it wrecks him thinking you'd even consider him not loving you.
You're in love with that stunning face and Lix knows it. It hasn't happened only once you've made him sit on the counter to do his makeup. You love those little moments, accentuating your boyfriend's natural beauty like that. He loves letting you paint his lips, adorn his eyes with glittery eyeshadow or go wild with little stick-on gems below his eyes. You always wear such a happy smile on your face he would never deny you these small moments.
Lix loves shopping with you, since he obviously wants to look his best for you and spoil you at the same time. So buying new fits together is always fun. He gets to know your taste in clothing better and sometimes you surprise him with a color or piece of clothing he would've never thought of wearing before. The joy in your eyes when you find something for him makes him melt into a puddle right there.
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MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)
@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @lixie-phoria @xxstrayland @kibs-and-bits
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sanguineterrain · 6 months
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hiii! can i request reader being a vigilante and also jason’s ex? they’re on the same mission/have to work together and reader gets injured or smn?
thank you so much! I love your writing!
thanks for requesting! this turned into a whole ass one shot 😭 hope you like ❤️
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: fighting, exes, physical violence, reader is captured but they're fine, jason is NOT over you (and he doesn't want to be), making up, fluffy ending. 2k words (lol)
****
The Cave is exactly how you remember. Foolishly, you thought maybe it would've rotted after you broke up with Jason.
That's certainly how you felt.
But no. It's the same, and the other Bats are the same. Dick and Tim are there, probably because you're the most familiar with them... after your ex, of course... and Barbara already pushed the envelope by contacting you.
Still, Gotham is your city too. And if the Bats need an extra set of hands to protect the city, then so be it.
"Hey, glad you could make it," Dick says warmly.
At times, you envy how easygoing he can be. Even though he can have a temper, Dick Grayson, for the most part, shakes hands like a politician. He doesn't burn bridges. He doesn't hold grudges, at least not publicly.
You, on the other hand, are perhaps too much like his younger brother: you absolutely hold grudges, and you don't let go easily.
"Hi, guys," you say, trying to be civil. "What's up?"
"So—"
The roar of a motorcycle pulling into the Cave cuts Tim off. Quick anger soars through you as Red Hood dismounts the bike. He takes off his helmet.
You haven't seen Jason in a year. Judging by his physique, the breakup did not take a toll on him. If anything, he seems bigger than you remember. Asshole.
You can pinpoint the moment that he finally sees you, and he stops in his tracks.
"Oh, boy," you hear Tim mumble.
Jason is silent. You cross your arms, keeping your face neutral.
"I didn't know you worked with the Bats, Hood. Thought you flew solo."
Jason is quiet for another moment. Then he speaks.
"Things change."
"Clearly."
"Anyway!" Dick says, clapping his hands. "Pretty straightforward mission. Drugs, warehouse, bad guys, et cetera. We have to clear out these shipments tomorrow night, or they'll hit the streets, and we'll be too late. Robin and I will take Gotham Heights. Signal, Black Bat, and Red Robin will take downtown. And, um, you two can clear out the Bowery."
"Hood can handle the Bowery himself," you say. "Gimme another section."
Jason scoffs. You glance at him.
"Something funny?" you ask, teeth grit.
"Once again, you're biting off more than you can chew," he says, hands on his waist. "It's stupid and you're gonna get yourself into trouble. Just clear out the Bowery with me. Plenty of room for both of us."
"I don't know if you know this, but I actually do pretty okay on my own. Just because you're one of Batman's special little prodigies doesn't mean the rest of us can't get by."
You glance at the others. "No offense."
"None taken," Tim says. "You're far better adjusted than us, no contest."
Jason rolls his eyes. "C'mon. You don't have anything to prove to us. We know you're capable, but these guys are rough. We team up for safety."
"Oh, now you care about being a part of a team?" you snap. "You didn't give a shit when it was me asking—no, begging you and Roy to help me with the League mission in Sydney."
Jason's jaw tenses. "That was different."
"Guys, I think we should—"
"Why? Because you only get your hands dirty locally?" you ask, shaking with anger.
"Because if I had gotten involved, it would've put a target on your back," Jason says icily. "You would've been killed. You were nowhere near ready to take on the League. I wouldn't have been able to protect you and fight them."
"You know, right there, you sounded just like Bruce. Did you take tips from him?"
Silence. Jason's boiling with anger, you can tell.
"Bruce wouldn't have had the sense to stop you from going," he finally says, tone even. "He's not too good at that."
"Bruce would've cared enough to back me up. And he wouldn't have driven a wedge between me and my team."
It's just words; there's no way to know whether Batman would've actually backed you up. Probably not, considering his history. But it hurts Jason, and you take the moment to whirl around to look at Dick and Tim, who are wildly uncomfortable. Dick looks sad.
"It's better to team up," Dick says gently.
You bristle. "Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."
You stalk out of the Cave.
Stupid fucking exes. Stupid fucking vigilantes.
****
"Okay, just to make things clear..."
"In and out. Report at the Cave," you say, tightening your equipment. "I got it, Nightwing. Over and out."
You silence your comm before he can respond. You're tired of their voices.
Thankfully, Jason has taken the hint and is on the opposite end of the Bowery. Which means you can slip away in peace.
You did this as a favor for Barbara, but now you're seriously rethinking getting reinvolved with the Bats. It never ends well.
The warehouses on the East End of Old Gotham are no problem. You clear out five within an hour. You check the comm briefly. It's pretty much silent, so you turn it off and keep going.
The West End, however, is a little harder.
Because you're only one person, someone figures out your pattern. You're clobbered over the head before you can drop in through the roof.
This is the last time you do a favor for anybody in Gotham.
****
You wake up tied to a chair. Your head pounds, and your lip is bloody. Not good.
"—way the Bat will show. They're a nobody vigilante."
"Tony, you're a fuckin' idiot if you think Batman doesn't know exactly what the fuck goes on in this city. Swear to God, I shoulda left you with Mom in Boise. Nothing but cotton in your head."
"Oh, fuck off, Al, you'd still be droolin' on your couch crying over Marie if I hadn't come back to Jersey."
"You little—"
"Very sorry to interrupt this family spat," you say. "But I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you could just speed things up..."
"Smartass, huh?" Al asks, waving a gun. "I wouldn't be so bold tied to a chair, toots."
"Toots? Are you a hundred years old?"
Tony snickers. Al glares at him and stalks over to you. He doesn't hesitate before whacking you upside the head with his gun. Your ears ring, and you hunch forward.
"Watch your mouth," he growls, and you're in too much pain to come up with a response to that.
Presently, you realize that your earbud is out of your ear. Probably destroyed. You have no other way of sending a distress signal. By the time you miss the report at the Cave, it'll be too late.
You were a failure then, and you're a failure now. Even your ex-boyfriend took pity on you.
Jason. God, look at how you'd left things. How his face had fallen when you'd called him Bruce. He used to love Bruce, and you know exactly what happened that changed that. And you used it against him.
Now you're facing the consequences. This is your own damn fault.
"Load everything into the truck," Al says into a walkie. "Then move out. Tell the others the same."
There's a crackled reply. Then shouting. Then silence.
You look up in surprise. Al curses and points at you.
"Stay here and watch them," he orders Tony.
"But Al, what if Batman comes here?"
"That's what guns are for, you freakin' idiot!"
You snort. As if guns could stop any of them, much less Batman.
But whatever. These guys probably didn't go into selling drugs because of their big IQs.
Tony and five other men stay to guard you. You work on trying to slip out of the handcuffs and rope.
Bang!
The first gunshot hits one goon in the leg. A second gets hit in the shoulder. Hip. Foot. Opposite leg.
Red Hood steps out of the shadows, then. Tony immediately looks sick.
"H-Hood? This ain't your territory, what're you—"
"You've got something of mine, Lewis," Jason says, voice smooth and dangerous.
Tony decides that, fuck his brother, he's getting out of here alive, and runs. Jason doesn't pay him any mind, instead walking to you.
He cuts the ropes first, then picks the handcuffs. Jason roughly rubs your wrists and ankles, pushing blood back into your extremities.
"What're you doing?" you ask. "Go get him. He's meeting his brother downtown."
You can't see Jason's expression through the helmet, but if looks could kill...
"Hood—"
"What. The hell. Is wrong with you."
You scowl. "I didn't come here for a fucking lecture."
"Well, you're gonna get one. This wasn't the plan. And you turned off your comm? Are you trying to get yourself killed? You have a death wish or something?"
"It didn't make sense to put both of us in the Bowery—"
"You could've died tonight!" Jason yells.
"And wouldn't you have liked that!" you snap back. "Proves the fact that I'm a failure quite nicely."
Jason tears off his helmet. His eyes are wide with anger and... guilt. Helplessness.
He's afraid.
"Don't you fucking say that," he says lowly. "I'd rather die again than find your body."
"What the fuck do you care?" you snarl. "I'm not your responsibility, remember? What does it matter if I dropped off the face of the earth?"
"Because I still love you!"
All of your anger drains.
Your body buzzes like it wants to feel him again. Traitor.
"That would kill me," Jason finishes quietly. "And I wouldn't come back from that death."
Your mouth feels like you swallowed chalk. And bees.
"You love me?" you whisper.
"You're hard to get over," he says. "Still haven't managed it."
"But... you said our breakup was for the best."
Jason sighs. His anger fades. "It was. I was a jackass. I let my shit with Bruce and the Pit and everything get in the way of what was important. Which is you."
"You were good to me, Jay," you say. "And we were okay. Till... till Sydney."
Jason winces. "I should've handled it better. And I should've treated you better."
"You're a good man, Jason. I don't regret my relationship with you. I regret it ending."
He looks at you. His face is twisted in pain.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he says. "And you're not a failure. Not even close."
You scoff, your eyes wet. "Aren't I? Couldn't even handle a simple drug bust."
"No, you're not. Nothing about what we do is simple, even if we're gaslit into thinking so. In this life, you need someone to watch your back. Even B doesn't work alone."
You try to stand, suddenly feeling like a raw nerve. You stand up too fast, though, and blood rushes to your head. You might also be mildly concussed.
Jason immediately slips an arm around your waist as you teeter forward and puts you upright.
"Easy, sweetheart," he says, and doesn't let go until you're steady.
You raise a brow. Jason grimaces.
"Sorry. Force a' habit."
You scoff, suddenly shy. "Habit, huh? Still think of me as your sweetheart?"
"Never stopped."
You roll your eyes, but it's fond now. "Anybody ever tell you you don't know how to move on?"
"Mm. I've heard it once or twice."
Your lips tingle. You've missed kissing him.
"I'm sorry I compared you to Bruce," you say. "You're nothing like him."
Jason shrugs. "Some of me is exactly like him. The fact that I didn't put a bullet in anybody's brain even though they kidnapped you isn't me at all. But I forgive you. And I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't know the Sydney mission had festered so much."
"It's okay, Jay. You're right, I wasn't ready to take down the League or kill anybody. I'm grateful you stopped me."
Jason takes a careful step forward, eyes darting to your lips. You smirk.
"Hot for communication, are we?" you ask.
"Oh," he says, suddenly reticent. "Sorry. Too forward. Shit. I've... I've just missed you so much. I thought maybe you—that there was a vibe—but if there isn't, then—"
You take the last step and kiss him, and your lips buzz in satisfaction. Jason kisses back just as eagerly, hands flying to your waist and squeezing. But his hands roam, holding and cupping like he's been starved for the last year.
"I missed you too, Jaybird," you say between kisses.
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