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callsign-bunnie · 1 year

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I want to get my regular of an order of the Angels and Demons… side of Roach if you can but no worries if it’s Gaz

I didn't have roach in this when I received this ask

Rodolfo unfolded his wings when he could open his eyes again, looking around. He found himself in a bedroom he recognized immediately, folded on a couch that had been bought specifically for him.

Two figures slept on the bed, which made sense, seeing as it was very late at night. He stood, unfolding himself, and then went over to the bed, looking over the two demons, which he recognized well. Alejandro and Valeria…

They were just as beautiful as he remembered. He ghosted his fingers over Valeria’s face, unable to physically touch her. Even still, he was unsurprised when her eyes opened and he stepped back as she quickly sat up. “Rodolfo?” She whispered, looking in disbelief.

Alejandro was up a moment later, staring at him. “You’re… here.”

“No.” Rodolfo shook his head. “Not completely. I’m not stupid enough to do that.”

Alejandro furrowed his brows and Valeria looked disappointed. She reached out, her hand passing through Rodolfo. He could kind of feel it, but it felt the same as someone running their hand over his stomach. “You’re projecting.”

“I am.” He nodded, backing up more. He looked at himself, seeing that he glowed slightly. His glow was always a light blue.

“That’s fine.” Alejandro shook his head. “You still chose to come see us.” He smiled.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Rodolfo muttered. He didn’t have some retort or lie to knock them down a peg, so he just didn’t give one. He had chosen to see them. He didn’t really have an answer why, he just knew he had wanted to come see them.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember.” Valeria stood, coming to stand in front of him and looking over his face.

Rodolfo shook his head, backing up again. “Flattery is not going to change my mind. I’m staying gone. I just… came to see you. This means nothing.”

Alejandro and Valeria shared a look and then Alejandro was nodding. “Alright. We will… respect that.”

Rodolfo felt surprised, not expecting it to be that easy. He’d expected more begging, more pushback. It worried him, because now he wondered if they were planning something. He shook it off, though. “What did you give me? In the rose?” It hadn’t done much, but he did feel slightly better. Only slightly.

“An antidote. For the poison.” Valeria nodded. “It will heal the damage.”

Rodolfo furrowed his brows, since that had been self explanatory. He’d wanted something more specific. “I don’t… like these games you play with me. I want to know exactly what it is.”

“Heartroot.” Alejandro sighed. “Mostly. Carris tongue, ram horn. A few other things you can only get in our territories.”

Rodolfo relaxed, glad to get an actual answer. Both Valeria and Alejandro seemed to be looking at him, earnestly, so he accepted their answers. “Alright.” He nodded. “Why? Why did you slash me?”

“It was an accident, mi amor…” Valeria immediately stepped forward again. “I have never felt more guilt in my life for anything…”

“You don’t feel much guilt, period.” Rodolfo glared at her. “If you truly felt guilt for how you hurt me, you wouldn’t have tried to kidnap me!”

“Our need for you to return far outweighs our guilt. We will admit that.” Valeria nodded. “But I do truly regret how careless I was. How careless we were. We were… selfish and stupid and it got you hurt and we will never forgive ourselves for that. Nor do we expect you to.”

“Yes.” Alejandro agreed, standing and coming to Rodolfo. “She’s right. We hate ourselves every day for what happened to you…”

Rodolfo looked up at them both, their words sinking deep into him. They were remorseful, they regretted it. But, even still, the imagery from that night flashed through his mind. Screaming and fighting and then just an overwhelming, dense cold feeling… He shook his head. “I can’t risk that happening again.”

“It won’t!” Valeria immediately cried. “We will not allow it to!”

“No. I’m not… I’m not coming back.” Rodolfo shook his head. “I can’t. It wasn’t just getting struck it was… other things. You two were constantly fighting and I was constantly being dragged into the middle of it. If I wasn’t being outright ignored.”

“We did not mean to ignore you…” Alejandro frowned. “We never did it on purpose.”

“You two were so obsessed with each other and yourselves that you probably didn’t even notice!” Rodolfo huffed. “I might as well have been a piece of furniture, half the time.”

Valeria looked hurt, as did Alejandro, but neither said anything. Rodolfo shook his head and looked away. “I missed you.” He admitted. “And I believe that you missed me. But… you hurt me. Beyond repair. I will never be the same and it’s your fault.”

They still didn’t speak and Rodolfo looked down. “This was a mistake.”

“Wait- please don’t go.” Alejandro quickly said. “Rodolfo, please.”

Rodolfo paused but then backed up, shaking his head. “No. I need to go. I shouldn’t have came, I shouldn’t be here.”

“Rudy, please!” Alejandro pleaded. He tried to grab Rodolfo’s arm but his hand just went straight through. “Look, just- tell us what to do to get you back and we’ll do it! We’ll do anything. Please.”

Rodolfo watched him and then he softened. “I…” he looked at Valeria, who looked nearly as desperate. “I don’t know, yet. I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”

“There has to be something. Please…” Alejandro shook his head. “Rudy, please…”

Rodolfo looked between them and then his shoulders dropped. “No. There’s nothing.” He undid the spell, disappearing.

When he got back to his body, he panted, hugging himself. Already, he found himself missing the two demons, but he reminded himself that he couldn’t go back.

He couldn’t.

Gaz went with Price to see him off. As Price went to get into a truck, Gaz realized that he looked so… exhausted. He frowned. “Price? Are you alright?”

“Just… ready for this war to be over, Kyle.” Price sighed, looking at Gaz. “We have about thirty minutes until the trucks set out, so I wanted to tell you a story.”

“A story?” Gaz laughed softly and then moved up to sit on the ledge beside him. “What kind of story?”

“Well, it’s about you. I was thinking about it, after our conversation the other day. I realized that I never fully told you how we found you. When we found you, that is.”

Gaz frowned, deeply. “I was found in a pile of rubble, I thought.”

“Yes, and no. You were found in December and you were found in a pile of rubble but… there was another boy with you. A demon. He found you and because you were injured and freezing, he stayed with you. I remember him fairly well. He was terrified to touch you because he was naturally cold and worried it would only make it worse, but he’d dug through the rubble and found you blankets and food. We tried to thank him but he disappeared as soon as we arrived.” Price explained.

Gaz frowned. “How do I not remember that?” Admittedly, he didn’t remember anything from that time. Just… fear.

“You’d hit your head pretty hard. I’m not surprised. But… I thought that was relevant. You wanted to know if demons were inherently evil. One, a young one, didn’t have to stay with you, but he did.” Price shrugged. “Food for thought. Ah, there she is.”

Gaz looked up, smiling. He saw Farah was walking over, but she was with Kate Laswell. Gaz wasn’t exactly clear on what her title was, but she was important, he knew that. She was especially important to the three of them.

“Laswell!” Gaz called, standing and hugging her when she neared. “Are you going with Price?”

“Nope. I’m going to be staying with you guys.” Laswell answered. “Farah and I are here to see Price off, actually.”

“Oh.” Gaz relaxed. He was happy for that, since he liked Laswell. She was kind, even if she didn’t put up with Soap and Gaz’s nonsense. “Rodolfo will be pleased.”

“I hope so.” Laswell nodded. “Alright, John. Goodbye.”

Gaz turned and waved bye to Price as he climbed into the truck before standing back so they could all head out.

When all of the trucks were gone, Gaz turned to Laswell and Farah. “It’s nice to meet you, again.” He told Farah.

Farah smiled in response. “It is nice to meet you as well.”

“Let’s go back to the manor.” Laswell spoke up before starting to guide them both. As they walked, Gaz looked around, enjoying an easy silence.

When they got back to the manor, Gaz went up to find Soap and Rodolfo, knowing they were both likely still asleep. As expected, Soap was curled up in his bed, his wings splayed out. When they were both young, neither could stand to sleep in the same bed because Soap would wack him with his wings.

Soap groaned when Gaz went to wake him up, but his eyes opened. Then, he was immediately sitting up. “What is it? Is it Rodolfo??”

“No, no,” Gaz quickly assured. “It’s Laswell! She and that warrior I told you about will be guarding us while Price is gone.”

Soap calmed and relaxed, nodding. “Good.” He got up and then Gaz followed him to Rodolfo’s room. Rodolfo was still asleep, curled up tightly.

Gaz watched Soap sit on the bed and then gently wake their brother and guilt flooded his chest again. Poor Rodolfo was still sick, though he was doing better… and it was Gaz’s fault.

Rodolfo woke up slowly and he nodded in response to all of Soap’s questions before getting up, presumably going down to talk to Laswell and Farah.

Gaz turned to Soap. “Do you want to do anything today?”

“No, unfortunately, I’m busy. An old friend wants to hang out.” Soap sighed and shook his head.

Gaz blinked. “An old friend?”

Soap looked at him and then sighed. “A… an ex boyfriend. His name is Roach.”

“Oh.” Gaz could remember that name. He’d never met him but he was pretty sure Roach was also a fallen soldier. “What are you guys going to do?”

Soap gave him a look and Gaz blushed dark red. “Nevermind.” Gaz quickly mumbled and shook his head. “Well, um… have fun?”

“Will do. I'm going to go ahead and head out. Bye Gaz!” Soap smiled and then he was just gone.

Gaz sighed and dropped his shoulders. Rodolfo would be likely with Farah and Laswell all day so that meant Gaz was going to be alone. All day.

Already, Gaz’s mind went back to Alex and he found himself wanting to go to him again. He had the mirror… would it really be so bad?

No, Gaz had told him they couldn’t be friends anymore… What if it got Rudy hurt?

But, Gaz really missed Alex and he thought about Price’s earlier words. Maybe… maybe just once more.

He paused as he went out to the hallway, listening for Rodolfo. Sure enough, he heard all three discussing things and so Gaz went to his room, closed and locked the door and then went to the mirror, touching it.

His hand went straight through so he stepped through the mirror, and then started to head through the little hallway.

Once he reached the mirror at the end of the hallway, he again stepped through, looking around.

As expected, he was in the basement of Alex’s house, though he paused when he heard noise at the top of the stairs which sounded like voices. Odd, it’d been so soundproof last time…

He went up to the door, knocking carefully. It went silent and then footsteps came to the door.

When it opened, Gaz was glad to be greeted with Alex, who looked surprised. “Gaz?”

“Hi, sorry… I um… well, I’m gonna be alone all day. And… I know I said we can’t be friends but um…” Gaz glanced around Alex, barely making out three figures in his kitchen. “I can come back later?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Alex shook his head. “I just have a few friends over. You can meet them if you want.”

Gaz blushed but then nodded. “Alright!” He followed Alex out of the basement and then to the kitchen.

However, when he made it to the doorway, his breath caught in his throat as he immediately recognized Valeria and Alejandro.

The third was a man he didn’t recognize but he was frightening. Tall with a rather scary looking skull mask on…

Alex looked at him, clearly concerned, as did all three in the kitchen. They were standing around the kitchen island. “Are you alright?”

Gaz quickly nodded. “Y-Yea.” He looked around, swallowing. All three of the others scared him.

Alex smiled and Gaz moved to follow him further into the kitchen, standing beside him. “Hey, guys, this is Gaz, that Angel I told you guys about.”

Gaz flushed. Alex had told everyone about him? That filled his chest with warmth and he tried not to appear too bashful.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alejandro Vargas.” Alejandro spoke up and then offered his hand.

Gaz hesitated before shaking it, surprised at how warm Alejandro was. He thought most demons ran cold. “It’s nice to meet you, as well.” He avoided Alejandro’s eyes, trying not to show how nervous he was.

“This is Valeria. And Ghost.” Alex pointed to Valeria and then the third one in a skull mask. “We’re a bit of an odd group. But, oh well. Are you hungry? I was about to cook some breakfast.”

Gaz flushed. But, he nodded. “I could eat.”

“Awesome.” Alex smiled. “Just you get food. Not these assholes.”

“Great. Thanks.” Alejandro glared at Alex.

Gaz couldn’t help laughing softly. “I can’t accept food if they’re not allowed to eat.”

“Oh, they’re allowed to eat. I’m just not cooking for them. They can find bread or eggs or something. They’re big boys.” Alex laughed.

“How sweet.” Valeria cooed at Gaz. Her eyes were filled with a sticky sweet affection that Gaz wasn’t sure he liked. “Are all angels this pious?”

“Wouldn't you know?” Gaz asked before he could stop himself. He shrank back at the sudden pointed stares at him from Alejandro and Valeria. Fuck.

“Why do you say that?” Valeria asked, her smile turning fake.

Gaz cringed. “I um… you guys used to know my brother. Rodolfo.” He admitted, biting the inside of his lip.

“Oh?” Both relaxed. “How is he? We haven’t-“ Alejandro seemed to twitch slightly. Gaz blinked. Did Alejandro just try to lie? Demons generally couldn’t lie.

“It’s been a bit.” Valeria continued. “How is he?”

Gaz thought that was a clever way of getting around it. Since, a bit can be defined as anything. “He’s… okay.” Gaz nodded. He couldn’t tell them the truth. Poor Rodolfo would not want that.

“That’s good.” Valeria seemed to relax. She then shared a glance with Alejandro. “Well, we should go.”

Alejandro nodded. “It was good seeing you, Alex. Text me tomorrow.”

Alex nodded. “Will do. Have a good day.” He waved bye to Alejandro and Valeria as they left.

That left just Ghost, who was watching Gaz, clearly amused. “I’ll leave as well.” He nodded.

Gaz frowned and looked at Alex, who nodded. “Alright, man. See you.”

Ghost nodded. “See you.” He then left, just disappearing.

Alex turned to Gaz and smiled brightly. “I’m really glad to see you. Come on, what do you want to eat for breakfast? I made some fried chicken Patties last night so I can make some breakfast sandwiches with them?”

“What would be on one?” Gaz tilted his head.

“Whatever you want.” Alex shrugged. “I’ve got a fair amount of things. Eggs, cheese, lettuce and sauces.”

Gaz considered. “Some egg sounds nice… and lettuce.” He nodded. “Do you have cheese?”

“I do!” Alex started to get into the fridge and so Gaz went around to sit at the counter.

He watched Alex prepare and cook the sandwiches and then he gladly accepted his, happy at seeing some fried potatoes on the plate as well.

Alex sat by him and Gaz started to eat, melting. “You’re good at cooking.” He told Alex.

“Thank you.” Alex smiled. “I try to be.”

Gaz looked down at his plate. “I don’t really know how to cook. I’m not… well, we have people who do that at the Garden.”

“Oh.” Alex frowned. But then he shrugged. “You’ll probably live at the garden for the rest of your life. You don’t really need to learn.”

“Yeah.” Gaz nodded. He started to realize that he was… well kind of useless.

Soap and his earlier conversation came back to mind. Before he was attacked, he’d been a virgin. He didn’t really know anything about that kind of stuff. He knew he could ask Rodolfo or Soap but… he just never had. There was no point since he’d never had anyone even remotely interested in him. Even Alex wasn’t…

Oh, that felt weird. That stung deep in his chest and he found it hard to breathe.

“How have you been lately?” Alex looked at him, smiling. “It’s been a couple weeks.”

Gaz relaxed. “I’ve been okay. Oh, I met Farah!”

“You did?” Alex appeared to perk up. “What did you think of her?”

“She’s really cool.” Gaz nodded. “I liked her. She’s guarding us while-“ he stopped. “Anyway.” He mumbled. “I thought she was cool.”

Maybe telling them that Price was going to be gone wasn’t a great idea.

Alex nodded. “I’m glad you liked her. We haven’t spoken in a while.” He sighed.

Gaz nodded. “She was really kind. Opened my mind on a lot of things.”

“Oh? Like what?” Alex tilted his head.

Gaz hesitated. “Demons. Admittedly. Everyone I know says demons are bad. I just… wanted another opinion.”

“What did she say?”

“That… you’re not. Just different from us.” Gaz shrugged. “I believe her.”

“Im glad.” Alex nodded, appearing to relax.

“I’m really glad you came back to see me…”

“Me too.” Gaz nodded and then relaxed, fully.

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use-your-telescope · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday - When Everything's Made to be Broken: Snippet #5

Alright Ladies, Gents, and balls of anxiety, I'm back after a hectic few weeks with another snippet!

We're officially out of chronological order, so this goes between snippets 1 and 2; after the briefing, but before Theo actually joined the Avengers. This is also a part of Chapter 3: I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For.

Tag list: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtigger @cheekyscamp @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446

Snippet #5: I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For

“Hi, we’re Your Friendly Neighborhood Bar Band, and we’re here to play some music tonight.”

With the warmth from the stage lights washing over her, Theo smiled at the cheers that came from Jack’s introduction and started plunking out the opening notes of their first song.

She started playing with the group shortly after accepting her position as an attending at New York Presbyterian, having been introduced by a colleague whose brother happened to be their drummer. That was a few years before, and in that time the group had grown to add a couple other members and expand the music styles to cover almost anything and everything.

For Theo, it was as much an opportunity to keep herself learning and practicing new instruments as anything else; after all, music was one of the few things in the world that brought her any sort of solace, as it was something her parents both placed a great value in. She didn’t run the show - they all rotated out who fronted certain songs, and she was not needed to provide on-stage banter - but she did switch instruments most often, as she was the only one who had taken the initiative to learn all of the one-off instruments for the times when a song had a saxophone or a trumpet and it just didn’t sound right without that specific instrument.

It was the last show she would play before news broke of the newest addition to the Avengers; knowing full-well that meant she would need to likely step back from pre-planned appearances with the group, she did her best to soak up each and every moment of the evening in hopes of tucking it away for a rainy day in the future. The stupid jokes that Jack told the crowd, Kelsie moving around so much that she inevitably crashed into Theo mid-song, the drunk guy in the audience who shouted at them to play Wonderwall…

Except for the crowd of familiar faces in the back, attempting to blend in but doing the opposite.

She should have known they’d find their way there.

After pulling the stunt at their briefing, it was only a matter of time before they sought her out for some observation of their own. Catching the entire team off-guard was incredibly satisfying and certainly got under their skin… which was exactly the point. If they thought she was predictable and stable, they’d trust her and want her to stay. And with the individual and collective egos in that room, she needed to knock them all down a peg or two. Pulling the rug out from under the entire team was an effective reminder that they weren’t as prepared as they thought they were.

And boy, did they need that reminder.

She’d seen the videos of their attempts at taking on shadow beasts, and if her initial suspicions were correct about the source of the pests, the Avengers certainly had no idea what they were in for.

But enough about the Avengers - she had a show to play and was about to make the most of it.

“Theo Amaris on the… well shit, she plays pretty much everything at one point or another. Piano, guitar, vocals, violin, cello, sax, trumpet— not only can she play pretty much every instrument and make it look easy, but she’s got two Fucking Grammy nominations for it.”

Theo’s cheeks burned.

The nominations weren’t for writing music - a friend of a friend was working at a recording studio and they needed someone to come in and help with recording a bunch of parts for a major recording musician. Theo was a broke med student in the middle of her residency at the time and well, the gig paid well. All she had to do was show up, play the instruments, sign an NDA, and she got more than her fair share of pay. Of course, now that the album was out and her name was in the song credits the NDA no longer applied, but at the time she wondered if they paycheck was more to keep quiet about it and less about recording the music.

The album ended up getting two grammy nominations - album of the year and country album of the year.

“I didn’t write the songs, so I don’t know if it’s fair to say the nominations are mine… I was recruited to play a few instrumental parts and I was a broke med student who needed money!” Theo interjected, earning laughter and cheers from the crowd. “I didn’t even know who the recordings were for until a week before the album came out.”

“Theo what, like it’s hard? Amaris here, making us all look bad as she casually racks up grammy nominations while in motherfucking med school. Actually, hey look, our next song is from the album you got the nominations for!” Jack replied, earning a louder round of screams from the crowd.

Anyone who had been to a show of theirs probably knew what was coming, since Jack liked to point it out every single time they played - but tonight, Theo found herself wishing he hadn’t revealed that detail… after all, now she had a bunch of superheroes watching who would definitely ask questions about that endeavor.

“Yeah, yeah… okay, let’s get this over with.” Theo laughed, shaking her head. “This is Everything has Changed.”

Of the songs she helped record, Everything has Changed was one of her favorites - she always thought her sister would have loved the song. It was light and sweet and romantic, and Rae was always a romantic at heart.

God, what she’d give to see her sister again.

“All I knew this morning when I woke / is I know something now / know something now I didn’t before / and all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago / is green eyes and freckles and your smile / in the back of my mind making me feel like / I just wanna know you better…”

From the back of the crowd, a pair of green eyes caught hers, and she couldn’t help but smile.

If there was anyone she wanted to know better, it was the intrepid Asgardian sorcerer who had long shed the reputation of wanting to conquer Earth and replaced it with equal parts charm, mystery, and wit sharper than the daggers he fought with. The sole interaction she’d had with him only increased her curiosity - Loki was one of the few Avengers who didn’t express reservations about her before they were aware she was in the briefing, and he seemed almost amused at the way she pulled the wool over the others’ eyes.

And based on the way he studied her, it seemed like he wanted to know her better too.

#my writing #e writes stuff #wip #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki x ofc fanfic #loki x ofc fanfiction #loki x oc fanfiction #loki x oc fiction #loki x oc fanfic #mcu loki #loki #When Everything's Made to be Broken #WEMtbB

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readsandbreeds · 2 years

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A Tipping of the Scales

ao3 link ao3 profile ship: batcat (reeves verse) warnings: none, smut 18+ word count: 10.2k

Selina Kyle didn’t believe in fairytales. Fables? Sure. Cautionary tales and Bible stories were more up her alley. After all, she had walked into her former kingdom, the prodigal daughter returning to slay Goliath and steal his crown. But the Bat had stopped her, stolen her vengeance, just like he had stolen himself away from her.

Bludhaven was far more boring than she had expected. Despite housing the summer homes of the rich hedge fund types that she intended to knock down a peg, there were only so many jewels she could steal and resell. It didn’t bring her nearly the same amount of satisfaction as the Bat chasing her. Cat and mouse was the name of her game, or in this case, the cat and the bat.

She often daydreamed about that night in Mitchell’s house, him holding her against the wall, his hand slapped over her mouth. The smothering of his arms was satisfying, and although she hated to admit it, those thoughts eventually raced into her head as she slept.

That’s what had her returning to Gotham, and while she hated herself for being attention seeking, she couldn’t help herself. Something from the streets of Gotham would feel better than the empty loneliness she felt upstate. Even the strays she had found couldn’t fill the danger shaped hole in her heart.

Her first break in was a testament to her roots. Lowering herself precariously through a skylight on her trusty rope, she landed almost soundlessly on her feet into the home of one Harvey Dent. While he took over Coulson’s role as DA, Selina was more than sure he was just as corrupt as his predecessor. A few stolen items would be the perfect welcome to his new position.

It started with paintings. Forgeries of Rembrandts that were so close in detail that even curators couldn’t tell the difference. Somehow Dent never noticed, or maybe he didn’t even bother to check. She did replace the paintings, she wasn’t completely heartless. But… they were a tad explicit to say the least. Nudes of renaissance women were now completely scattered across the DA’s house. Maybe his coworkers would recognize him as a man with good taste. Or at least think he had a humorous interior designer.

This was her third time hitting Dent’s house. He was new in town so to speak, so his security protocols were nowhere near as intense as someone like Bruce Wayne. Sometimes easy options are the best way to get back into an old trade, and if she had to fish for minnows, she was more than willing to do so.

But the Bat caught up, something that both scared and thrilled Selina. Yes, he played into her hand, but she doubted he would chase after her so soon. Maybe it said something about both of them. Her desperation for him to arrive, his desperation for her to slip up.

“I didn’t think you’d stoop this low,” he said, revealing himself from the shadows of Dent’s dining room.

“Had to tell you I was back in town somehow,” Selina replied coolly. “Besides, a stolen inheritance only lasts for so long.”

“Then work with me again,” he replied. To anyone else’s ear he would’ve seemed nonchalant, but Selina had learned to read every little inflection of his voice and every single twitch on his masked face.

It was the same voice he used when he told her not to throw her life away. Those few sentences were the most vulnerable she had seen him and the most vulnerable she had allowed him to see.

This was his way of reminding her that she didn’t have to pay, no matter how she decided to do it.

“Now why would you want me to do a thing like that? Did you miss me Vengeance?” Selina tried to say coyly. The waver in her voice gave her away. He remained silent for a few moments, long enough that Selina felt the need to fill the silence.

“Yes,” he said. His heart was clearly pounding out of his chest. There was a crack as he said the word, both in his voice and in Selina’s heart. She felt herself step forward towards him, the Warhol she had intended to snatch ignored behind her.

“Yeah?” she whispered. Vengeance gave a nod so slight and short that she almost missed it.

“Okay,” Selina nodded, swallowing her pride and every little word she wanted to say to him. This was not the reaction she had expected. She had expected anger, a reenactment of that first night at Mitchell’s house, maybe ending with her bent over Dent’s desk.

She didn’t expect a confession between the two of them that only needed one word. Selina is snapped out of her thoughts as the Bat begins talking again.

“As in actually working together,” he said. “That means stopping… this.”

“A girl needs to make a living somehow,” Selina shrugged.

“Then I’ll pay you,” he said as though it barely meant anything.

“You really are a rich boy,” Selina scoffed, her eyes returning to the painting.

“I’m being serious, Selina,” he replied. “I’ll make you a real suit too.”

“Are you too scared to be associated with a cat burglar? You want a thief to play buddy-buddy with Gordon?”

“He saw you save my life and me save yours,” the Bat states. “If he doesn’t trust you, then he doesn’t get to trust me.”

“Wow, determined to lose one of your only friends if it means spending time with me, huh?” A smirk grows across Selina’s face.

“If that’s what it comes down to, I’d rather say I was trading one out for another.”

Selina refuses to acknowledge the blush that begins to spread across her face by staring at the Warhol, pretending to be intrigued.

“Can I take this one still? As a last hurrah?” The Bat simply shook his head.

“It’s not like you would listen to me, Selina. I know my place,” he said while walking towards her. A black leather glove tilts her chin up to look at him. “Do you know yours?”

Selina miraculously avoids leaning into the Bat’s touch. She thanks whatever God above is stopping her from doing so. She could get used to his hand on her cheek, used to someone pretending to care.

“I don’t go so easily,” she says instead.

“I wouldn’t expect any less of you,” Selina thinks that he gives her a hint of a smile. How is it possible that something so small could be so beautiful?

“You should leave,” Selina nods towards the skylight. “Before you’re accused of any implications.”

“You’re too smart to leave a trail behind,” he scoffs.

“And you’d ruin my life,” God, Selina thinks. As if he hasn’t already. He shakes his head.

“You don’t deserve that,” his hand trails down her shoulder, eventually gripping her own. “Especially after everything you’ve worked for.”

Her heart is in her throat, she’s mirroring the panic he felt the moment he landed besides her. She’s always seen him as nervous, as hidden. It’s unfair that she’s carrying those same traits because of him.

“Meet me at the signal, next time it’s on,” his voice is a whisper. It’s her final out, his final plea. She caves and gives him a nod. One motion, one silent agreement. Two people, one silent confession.

He goes right away, leaving her with her tools and the soon to be stolen Warhol. She sighs while she readjusts her gloves, carefully sliding the painting off of its place on top of the mantle. She puts a painting of a woman fingering herself in its place.

Just another day, but her final job. Her life was about to get much more interesting. To be fair, it was her own damn fault. Maybe she should’ve stayed in Bludhaven. Even cats have to be careful about what they wish for.

The signal is on the next night. Selina doesn’t know what she expected, he was spoken for, that was why he had stayed. Gotham needed its knight, and it looked like she was about to be his sidepiece.

She didn’t bother taking the elevator up to the signal, climbing the pulleys and scaling the building was much more fun. Gordon was already there, but the Bat was late. Typical.

“Well,” Selina sighed upon seeing Gordon next to the signal. She couldn’t think of anything to say to him. They had interacted only a handful of times, all of which were at a major low point of her life.

“You’re back in town,” Gordon nodded. “He didn’t tell me.”

“He only found out recently, even though all of the pieces were there,” Selina shakes her head. “He’s not nearly as smart as he pretends to be.”

She couldn’t tell if she said that to make her feel better about herself or if she truly believed it. The truth was that the Bat could have found her at any point. Hell, he could’ve been tracking her while she was upstate. He probably was.

“How… are you?” Gordon was clearly just as uncomfortable as she was. Thank God that was when the Bat decided to arrive.

His presence was not comforting, but it certainly made the tension in the air less thick. He nods at Gordon, who simply looks between the Bat and the Cat with a wary eye.

“What am I supposed to call you?” Gordon asks.

“... Cat,” she says, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Right,” Gordon turns his attention back to the Bat. “There’s been a series of robberies from Harvey Dent’s penthouse, would you happen to know anything about that?”

Bat’s eyes flicker towards Selina.

“The situation has already been dealt with,” he replies, voice steady yet full of gravel. “The thief has been apprehended, but the paintings will likely not be returned.”

“Let me guess, they’ve already been sold,” Gordon sighs. Selina has never had the urge to laugh this severely in her whole life. She notices Batman swallow. He clearly finds humor in this exchange as well.

“I would assume so.”

“And the thief?” Gordon says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Even some criminals are too slippery for my hands,” Batman replies. “But I swear that the issue is resolved.”

“But what if-”

“I made a deal,” he said, cutting Gordon off. “The thief is a source of intel now. They have very quick hands.”

Gordon looks over at Selina, whose face is red as a tomato at this point. He nods.

“I see,” he turns back to the Bat. “And would this thief happen to be a cat burglar of some kind?”

“I think that’s an accurate description, yes.”

Gordon’s sigh somehow becomes deeper. It isn’t out of frustration, more a sense of disappointment. Selina was clearly important to the Batman, and shutting her out would mean losing him as a resource.

“I have to tell the department and the DA something,” Gordon rubs his hands together. “Otherwise they’ll go sniffing around like hounds.”

Selina resisted the urge to make a comment about cops and bitches. Instead she offered a half assed solution.

“Well, I won’t pull any profitable pranks for the time being,” Selina began. “So you don’t need to worry about me. Maybe mention something about an art burglar in some city nearby. Throw them off their trail. There are other art thieves, I’m willing to expose a few of them.”

“Who knew that cats could become rats,” Gordon muttered. The joke didn’t seem to be out of malice, but Selina’s skin began to crawl.

“I prefer to catch them,” she said defiantly. “If I reveal someone, it’s a bitch that deserves it,” Selina stares pointedly at the Bat. “Are we done here?” Vengeance looks at Gordon in response.

“Yes,” Gordon nods, sighing at the two vigilantes in front of him. “I’ll see you next time the signal is lit. Get some rest.”

“Gotham never sleeps,” the Bat replies.

“Rich kid and you had an emo phase,” Selina grumbles. “Actually you’re still in your emo phase.” Ever perceptive, she notices a half smile on Gordon’s face as he takes the elevator down.

“Is it alright if I take your measurements?” the Bat asks quietly.

“I’m sorry?” This question hits Selina from left field, stunning her out of the witty quips she had been planning.

“For the suit,” he clarifies. Right, the suit. The special matching suit. The suit that he would make for her. His suit for her. And he would have to touch-

“Yeah,” her response thankfully stops her from overthinking too much. “That’s totally fine.”

The Bat had a goddamned measuring tape on his utility belt for some reason. God knows if he’s diligent enough to measure foot prints at crime scenes, trying to match shoe sizes with criminals. Selina wouldn’t put it past him.

“I need you to raise your arms,” his voice is too soft. Why is it so soft? Selina obeys his request so that her head will hopefully stop racing. Unfortunately, her heart begins to instead.

The tape goes around her throat, his lithe fingers carefully marking off the number of centimeters that would be required for the turtleneck hem that she'd grown to prefer. He’s careful every step of the way, from arm measurements to the tightness of her waist and hips. Selina prays for the first time in years that the Bat can’t magically sense her pulse as his hands gently touch her chest. It’s supposed to be a very clinical procedure, simply a girl and her caped seamstress. Yet every brush of his gloves against her body makes a part of her tense.

He shouldn’t have this effect on her. It’s not as though he’s special in any way. The Bat is a man that hides behind a mask and beats up thugs in tight fitting kevlar. Just because he wants Selina to help him with work does not mean he wants her in any other way. He saved her so she wouldn’t sin. He saved her from herself. That was all.

But it’s clear to Selina that touching her is having an effect on him as well. The Bat always tries his damndest to seem stoic, untouchable, unmovable, but Selina is more than sure that underneath his mask is a scared man. He was scared on that catwalk, enough to shoot his leg full of adrenaline to save her. He was scared that she’d say no as he found her in Dent’s dining room. And he was scared now, that she would leave, that this was too far.

“Are you almost done?” Selina asks sweetly, trying to not let her voice warble. It’s the same voice she uses on the strays she finds in street alleys, coaxing them towards her gently. Little does she know that she pulled this stray in a long time ago.

The Batman nods, putting the tape back into some unseeable part of the belt. Despite being around him for so long, Selina still couldn’t wrap her head around his equipment or how he got the funding for it. Maybe the rich kid theory wasn’t so far off.

“Any requests?” he asks.

“About the suit?” Batman nods. “Then no,” Selina replies. “What do I call you?”

“Excuse me?” Despite not being able to see them, Selina knows that his eyebrows are knitted together.

“I can’t call you Bat all the time. Or Batsy, or Vengeance. The nicknames clearly annoy you, and while annoying you is one of my favorite pastimes, I’d like a piece of you that’s exclusively mine,” she finishes.

Selina lets her nails trail up the Bat’s chest, running her hands slowly across his shoulders. She’s reaching up to him, like a sinner up to heaven. He’s so tall, she wonders how it would feel to cower under him.

“I-”

“It doesn’t have to be too much,” she says, her voice once again turning to honey. “I understand the secrets. I kept mine from you, and yours certainly have more weight.”

“Secrets always matter,” he whispers. “No matter the size. No matter who they protect.”

Did he mean her or him? Did he mean Gordon? Did he have anyone else to protect at all? She doubted it. Cracks of loneliness broke out of him every time she was near. He needed a way to get it all out. Not only was he clearly touch starved, he needed some form of love to fill in the gaps.

“I’ll call you whatever you want,” Selina smiles. “It can be as ridiculous as you like. Honey-bunches of oats, sweetie pie, pumpkin, twat waffle, banana-”

“B,” he finally cuts her off before she can say something even more dumb. “You can call me B.”

“Not V for Vengeance? B for Batman,” she teases.

“No, B for me,” he says. It’s one less secret for him, and one more for her. She nods.

“I’ll see you at the next light, B,” she whispers. He disappears into the shadows.

Selina turns over a single initial in her head. B is what she has been allowed to call him. B is her name for him. It’s also clearly the start of his first name. Not B for the Bat, B for him.

Her thoughts are disrupted by a knock at her door. She rushes to answer it, but is tentative as she peers through the peephole. A man walks away with a parcel in front of her door. She quickly opens it, trying to get a better look at the man.

“Hey!” she calls, stopping him in his tracks. She picks up the parcel, looking at a sticky note on the front. The man doesn’t make any moves to run away. He simply stares as she reads the note.

“Let me know if it fits, B.”

“You know him?” Selina stares at the man. She gets a closer look at him. Salt and pepper hair and a clearly pressed suit. This was not her Bat.

“Yes,” his British accent startles her.

“How so?” she asks right away. Everyday her theories about the Batman were becoming more plausible, yet they were always an inch or two off.

“I’m an associate of your partner, Miss Kyle,” the man says. He seems to be very straight forward, not hiding behind words like the Bat often does.

“So he talks about me,” Selina says, inspecting the box. “I’m flattered.”

“Well, he does not get out much. I would be remiss not to notice a new person in his life.”

“What do I call you?” Selina asks, trying to ignore that she must bring some sort of comfort to the Bat. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around much more.”

“Alfred,” the man says with a curt nod. “I look forward to working with you Miss Selina.”

“Likewise,” she replies. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Alfred says. He walks down the shabby hallway, his oxfords the only nice thing to be seen in her apartment complex.

Selina walks back into the apartment, opening her new package with care. Even the box seems special, not a reused Amazon parcel. It feels like she’s opening a gift from Tiffany’s as she pulls at the rope like twine holding the carefully wrapped box together.

The suit is much more lightweight than she expected. The Bat must pay more attention to the way she works than she thought. The suit is paneled with kevlar in the most vulnerable and damageable places. It reminds her of the shoulder and knee pads she would wear as a child while roller skating. Of course the suit is heavier, but it’s breathable. She’d be able to move in it swiftly and wouldn’t have to adapt her style of attack. The Bat’s fighting strategy fit the bulkiness of his suit. Strong and armored to match the hard hitting punches he pulled.

It fit perfectly, hugging her body skin tight. She didn’t ask for this specific fit. Perhaps the Bat was being self indulgent. Selina shook her head, he was just being practical. Something that hung off her even slightly would be uncomfortable, clinging to her skin with sweat like a wedgie.

The material was so soft that part of her wanted to fall asleep in it, but she knew if she didn’t return the suit back into its box, it would be covered in cat hair in no time. Selina put away her suit, placing it with care at the top of her closet before going to feed her harem of cats. They were constantly needy, but she didn’t mind. She needed them just as much as they needed her. She wondered if the Bat was the same way.

Another day and she was back at the signal, sitting cross legged on the concrete floor as she and Gordon waited for the Bat to arrive.

“Is he always this late?” she asked.

“Yes,” Gordon says. “I don’t mind, he’s likely in the middle of a street fight.”

“I wonder if the Bat was this tardy at prep school,” Selina says off handedly as she inspects her nails.

“What makes him so sure that he’s rich?”

“When you don’t grow up well off, you tend to notice the little details. Besides, his budget seems insane,” Selina says all of this as though it’s incredibly obvious. “Also I think I met his butler the other day.” Gordon nods throughout her explanation.

“I can see that. Any ideas as to who he would be?” Selina simply shakes her head.

This is a lie. Every night she tries to pair the letter B. She thinks of bright blue eyes emphasized by black makeup. His jawline is sharp and his body is likely littered with scars. Selina isn’t sure whether or not he’s lean yet built underneath his armor or simply awkwardly bulky. It’s frustrating to her in a way. She can’t picture him clearly when she. . .

The sound of the elevator snaps her out of her thoughts.

“I got your message,” Gordon says.

“You get actual messages from him?” Selina replies, mildly incredulous. “He just shows up at my house unannounced.” The Bat ignores her.

“Have you heard anything else about the gas?” he asks. Gordon nods.

“There’s been a few incidents on the Eastside of town. The standard green type poison.”

“Care to fill me in?” Selina looks between the two of them.

“Mysterious gaseous poison is showing up around town, usually around poorer neighborhoods,” the Batman explains.

“Do you think the targeting is intentional?” Gordon asks. Some detective he was.

“It wouldn’t make sense after the Riddler’s message. If it was a follower of his, the chemical weapons would likely target the upper class.”

“Do you know the effects?” Selina didn’t live on the Eastside of town, but she could already tell that she would be sent there as an on the ground scout.

“It’s been different for the victims so far,” Gordon says. “All have been sent to Gotham General Hospital and are being monitored 24/7. The most common symptom is disfigurement, which makes sense. That being said, many of the victims are gaining… for a lack of better words, powers.”

“What, like superheroes?” Selina lets out a singular short laugh. “What lame fanboy is behind this shit?”

“I reckon it’s a scientist,” Gordon replies. “The goal is clearly experimentation. Maybe making some sort of army to infiltrate Gotham’s streets.”

Selina watches the Bat close his eyes for a moment, too fleeting for Gordon to notice. He had inspired the Riddler. He had inspired thugs. Maybe he was still Vengeance. Maybe he was too late to become Hope.

“The chemical composition is particularly advanced,” the Bat says before he can overthink. “I’ve been trying to analyze samples at home, but I’ll need more. Since different types of gasses have different effects on victims, I should try to breakdown every type.”

“GCPD forensics is also on the case,” Gordon replies. “I’ll try to snag different samples of the variants for you.”

“I’m assuming you want me on the ground?” Selina says with a raised brow. Gordon nods, but the Bat’s jaw tenses.

“I’ll take care of it,” she confirms before heading to drop down from the pulley. The Bat snatches her hand as she turns.

“Can I have a word with you?” he asks softly. Selina nods.

“I’ll see the two of you later,” Gordon says, looking between the pair. The Bat does not release his grip on Selina until he hears the elevator begin to creak downstairs.

“I don’t want you gathering samples,” he says immediately.

“I’m sorry what?”

“You’ll be put in danger.” Selina looks around in confusion, half of her wanting to scream ‘what’ and the other half wanting to scream ‘the fuck’.

“B, you’re the one who asked me to be your partner.”

“Yes-”

“You literally attract danger B,” Selina says. “If you didn’t want me in danger, you wouldn’t have asked me to be here.”

“That’s different,” he insists.

“How?” Selina almost yells. Her voice grows louder by the sentence. “You asked me to be a part of this team, that means contributing. You want me to be your bait every single time? Put me in the club to drag out the goons under Oz? What do you want from me B?”

“I want you safe-”

“Then why did you ask for me back?” Selina cuts him off. “The other day you asked me if I knew my place. I do, and that’s here.” She walks closer to him, trying to sooth herself and hide the rage that had bubbled up moments ago.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers back. “I promise I want you here, I do, I just-”

“Just what?” There is no malice in her interruption this time. If only people could see how truly expressive the Bat was. Everytime he and Selina meet, she notices the cracks within him growing and growing.

“I almost lost you during the flood,” his voice still low. That softness is back, the kind that contradicts his entire appearance. “I almost lost so many people, and that is a sort of fear that I cannot let constrict myself while I protect this city.”

“B,” Selina walks closer, the two of them almost chest to chest. “Whether you like it or not, you are danger, and the people around you know that. They would willingly risk everything to be by your side.”

“Why do you think I keep my circle so small?” She can’t tell if this is a joke or a sad confession.

“Either way,” Selina says, shaking herself from her thoughts. “I’m honored to be a part of it. And I want to be. I want to be here.”

He knows this, no matter how much she doubts herself. Selina is a stubborn woman, and like a cat, she does not come quickly. He had given her several outs, but the Bat always had a way of talking himself down.

“Okay,” he whispers. Selina is satisfied with his answer for the time being. She resists the urge to touch his face. To test him in the same way he had tested her at their reunion. Would he lean into her touch? Would he fail the task that she had succeeded?

She gives in, her gloves in her back pocket long ago. Her skin is on his, and despite the December chill, his face is warm. His scruff pricks at her fingers and Selina knows that her thoughts will be full of this interaction for the next few weeks. The Bat swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing at the sudden touch. She can tell that he’s starved of this. If his inner circle is as small as he suggests, there’s likely no one else tending to his physical needs.

“I-” he begins, voice half choked from such a simple touch. He clears his throat, hoping to get rid of the noise. “Alfred wanted me to give you something.”

His comment doesn’t deter Selina. Instead she trails her hand down from his jawline to his chest, resting her hand over the sharp emblem plastered across it.

“And what would that be?” The Bat produces an envelope for her from God knows where.

“I don’t know what it says,” he promises. Alfred has insisted that he not read it. Somehow, his self control won.

“I’ll open it later,” Selina stares at the stationary. “You can always reach me.”

“I know,” he nods. She feels dumb for stating the obvious. They both knew that she still had the contacts. The moment is over, they both should leave. Neither of them moves to do so.

“I’ll be safe,” She only says it to reassure him. It doesn’t work.

“You’re too curious for your own good.” Selina lets a puff of air come out of her nose.

“Well you know what they say…” She trails off.

“I don’t want you to kill the Cat.”

“You do know the rest of the saying? Right?” It’s a genuine question on her part.

“Of course.”

“Then you know that I’ll put myself in harm's way despite your warning,” Selina says. “I’ll keep putting myself in danger.”

They both know what she means. There’s far too many of these between them. These unspoken promises. But there’s a sense of relief in knowing that she will stay. That she won’t run off to Bludhaven again. Selina hopes that she won’t break that promise, but fleeing is unfortunately in her nature. She flees now, nodding and trying desperately to ruin the moment. To ignore the feeling blossoming in her cheeks, her heart, her stomach.

The two of them don’t say a verbal goodbye, simply scaling down the building. It’s better practice than taking the elevator. It’s much more practical.

She opens the envelope when she gets home. Selina isn’t quite sure what she expected. Envelopes remind her of long meandering letters and missed bills. There’s only a small note inside with a phone number scrawled across it in perfectly neat cursive.

“For emergencies, Alfred.”

“Thanks Alfred,” she whispers to herself. She’s sure that the Bat would disapprove if he knew she had this information. Not because he’s worried about risking his identity, but because it was one more tug into his world. Into danger.

Selina promised herself she would only use the number in emergencies, just like Alfred had asked. She only wondered how much trouble the two of them would get into

The next time she sees him is two days later. Gordon has her number now. Not only is it a way to keep her in the loop, but it also seems like a way to keep her on a leash.

They start planning simple patrols on the Eastside of town. The Bat has designed a mask to go with Selina’s suit that should filter any toxic gas she comes in contact with. He fusses over her suit, worried about how breathable the fabric is. Something about gasses seeping through the material and touching her skin.

She doesn’t let him alter it, embarking on the mission with only the face mask as her newest wardrobe addition. It goes off without a hitch. She manages to capture several of the toxins successfully. Gordon takes any duplicates with him to the forensics lab for study, while the Bat takes his own samples home to analyze himself. Selina thinks he’s anal retentive, but understands his suspicions. Corruption does not go so easily.

The third mission, he insists on going on the ground with her. It’s clearly a protective part of him. Despite their conversation, her words have not comforted him completely. It’s disappointing to Selina, perhaps she misread the level of trust in their relationship. Would there ever be a day where he could open himself up to her completely?

The two of them stake out on different parts of the Eastside. Selina stays north while the Bat remains south. Selina tries to rationalize why he was doing physical work with her instead of analyzing her movements behind a computer screen.

Part of her understands, he hasn’t done any ground work since Gordon, him, and Selina had started looking into this case. He was probably itching for a fight and in a sense, redemption. Being on the street means protecting the victims of Gotham’s brutality. It means gaining the faith of the city’s population. The flood was just the first step. Every day she sees the guilt behind his eyes, the thought that he has yet to do enough. As often as she calls him Vengeance, she knows that he is trying to distance himself from the moniker. Calling him Hope feels too personal, no matter how much she wants to know more about the man behind the mask.

He is distant. He is the watchful eye at the side of rooms, calculating every single move, hearing every single whisper. Selina prefers to be in on the action, collecting the information first hand. She supposed that was why he eventually caved in to her pleas of doing groundwork. To be fair, he had given her that position first, long ago when she put on her earpiece at the Iceberg Lounge for the first time.

Coms are set as they prowl the town, his voice in her ear and hers in his. Selina had always thought of the Bat’s voice as gravel. Hard yet small rocks that could cause you to slip, crafty enough to stick in your skin for days on end. She now realizes he is sand. Some call it coarse and rough, once again clinging on in the most irritating of ways, making its mark on those who dare touch it. But Selina has always loved escaping to the beach. Keeping the sand between her toes, soft like a blanket despite the heat of the sun.

Cats did like to sunbathe.

“See anything on your end?” his voice startles her from her thoughts.

“Nothing of note. The blocks seem fairly clear at the moment, nothing rising up from the sewers just yet.”

Victims had described the way that the gas had surrounded them, coming from potholes and sewer grates as they walked to corner side bodegas. The Bat had theorized about the creator of this weapon before. Experimenting on members of Gotham’s higher society would cause too much attention. However, the chemist's attempts had been successful so far, with almost every victim gaining some sort of ability after their attack. The disfigurement was the one constant among the patients.

“I think I’ll move back to your side of town,” Selina says. “He’s been striking over here most often. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to test a different sample size.”

The Bat makes an affirmative noise in response, giving Selina the go ahead to jump on her motorcycle and speed across the Eastside of Gotham. All was well, the engine of her motorcycle the only noise comforting her as she rode.

Suddenly there was a yelp. The Batman does not yelp, he barely even winces through pain unless he is knocked down flat on his back.

“Baby?” Selina says. She is not panicking, there is no need to panic, she’s simply overthinking.

“Selina,” he almost whimpers. The reassuring lies she had told herself immediately disappear. She can panic now.

“I’m coming baby,” she says, voice steady. “I’m coming, tell me where you are. I need to know where you are.”

The Bat lists off street names, teeth obviously grit together. Selina weaves through cars, her speedometer rising and rising and rising. She literally dumps her bike when she sees him lying down in an alley. A green liquid seeps through the mesh parts of his suit and realizes the horrible smell that’s wafting over her is the scent of burning skin.

“B,” she practically screams as she runs towards him. “Oh my god. Okay, this is gonna be okay baby, you’re gonna be okay.” She still can’t tell if she’s telling herself this or him.

She realizes what she must do. Her fingers swiftly dial the phone number Alfred gave her.

“Miss Selina,” Alfred says after the first ring. “Is everything alright?”

“There’s been an incident with the chemicals. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to go-”

“Are you safe?” His voice is surprisingly level.

“It’s not me, it’s him,” she tries not to cry.

“Who, who are you talking, t-to-” her Bats manages to spit out.

“He took the car, correct?” Alfred’s voice still sounds calm, but there’s a hidden fear behind his sterile words.

“Did you take the car?” she asks him. He only nods in response, the movement jagged and sharp. She doesn’t bother asking him if he can move.

Selina drags him towards the Batmobile, his arm draped over her shoulder as he limps along to help her carry his weight. She finds his keys on his belt before hauling him into the passenger seat and putting it down in a lying position. Selina straps him down in every possible area. By this time, the poison is no longer visible, likely soaking into his bloodstream from some unhealed open wound on his body.

“Where do I go?” Selina chokes out to Alfred. He’s silent. He has a choice to make.

“Turn on the car, plug your number into the touch screen,” he orders. She obeys at once. “I’ll send you directions. I’m sure you know how to drive a manual car?” Selina nods before she remembers that Alfred can’t see her.

“Yes.”

“Good. The mechanics of the vehicle are simple despite its appearance,” the directions suddenly appear on the screen. Alfred’s voice suddenly runs through the speakers once she starts driving.

“Alfred,” Bats’ voice growing raspier by the minute. The poison must have some control over his airways as well. “Don’t let her see, don’t let-”

His eyes begin to close and Selina silently prays that he’s merely passing out. With the amount of times she’s prayed to God recently, she might have to take up mass again.

The map leads her down into a subway system and she speeds despite the bumpiness of the tracks. She’s driving too fast to notice the name Wayne Enterprises plastered across the walls. Alfred is waiting for as she pulls in. The only sounds keeping her focused is the stall of the mobile’s engine and the screeching of bats.

Alfred rushes over to the passenger side, unbuckling the Bat. Selina moves towards him, holding his feet as Alfred carries his head. He’s placed on top of a table and Alfred begins to dismantle the kevlar suit of armor that hides him from Selina.

“How can I help?” Selina forces herself to ask. Focusing on the task at hand may help her forget the severe extent her emotions are having on her.

“There’s charcoal water in the fridge. We’ll need to force feed it to him. If not, an IV. Hopefully it will bind it to the poison and stop further absorption into his blood,” Alfred says as he takes off the shoulder pads. “There should be a ventilator in the closet door by the elevator.”

Selina does as he says, pushing the ventilator on rolling wheels towards the table before dashing to a mini fridge close by. When she arrives, the Bat is completely shirtless. Her eyes widened for a split moment as she took him in. He is lean like he had suspected, but defined and bulky around the muscles that he most often uses while fighting. She shakes her head before setting the water on the table next to Alfred, who has begun to run blood tests. He stops once a needle is placed into the Bat’s vein.

He stares at Selina. He looks as though he is about to cave in.

“I need to run upstairs,” he says, looking between the body on the table and Selina. “I…”

“I won’t look at him,” Selina swallows. No matter how curious she has become, she knows that curiosity would kill her. And her curiosity could also kill him. “I promise.”

“That is the issue Miss Kyle,” Alfred says. “I need you to check for head wounds.” Selina tries and fails to stop her mouth from gaping.

“I, I-” Selina begins to stutter. She berates herself. This was not the time to be at a loss for words and she quickly attempted to pull herself together. “Why can’t you do that?”

“Either way you will see his face, Miss Kyle,” Alfred says. “This is a two person job and our maid Dory is squeamish around blood.”

“I can’t break his trust like that,” she says, tears beginning to prick at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t take a secret with that much weight. He isn’t ready-”

“We have no choice,” Alfred says firmly. “I will gather supplies upstairs while you check. I know you are far too intelligent to run off with this information.” Alfred begins to head towards the elevator before stopping in his tracks. His eyes soften as he turns around to look at her. “I also know you care far too much about him to tip the scales in your favor.”

Selina nods and waits for Alfred to go upstairs before turning back to face her Bat. Her B.

“Please forgive me,” she whispers. “I understand if you never can. You have given me bits at a time and now I have to take this, for your sake.”

She slowly removes his cowl, much like a child refusing to rip off a bandaid. Selina doesn’t dare look into his eyes once it is removed, making herself move around parts of his hair to look for blood. There seems to be none as she maneuvers his head in her hands. After five minutes of avoidance she forces herself to finally look at his face.

Selina gets to swim in those blue eyes up close. His makeup is smeared down the sides of his cheeks, raccoonish in a way that would be adorable if not for the circumstances the two of them were in. His hair is flopping down into his face now, covering his eyebrows. The Bat does not move at all as she investigates him. His skin is still soft despite the familiar stubble.

There’s a flicker of recognition as she stares and stares and stares. Whatever could the letter B mean? He has a maid, he has a butler, and he clearly has connections. The rich part of her theory is correct.

It hits her all at once. A man that she had once despised pops into her mind. This is Bruce Wayne.

This is where the money goes. After the flood, the Wayne Foundation began to rebuild, donating millions of dollars to the rebuilding of Gotham. Wayne made frequent public appearances, moving onto the front lines to pull civilians out of the wreckage. His waders and mask made him fairly unrecognizable, but the media soon caught wind. It was clear that his actions weren’t meant as a publicity stunt. He gave no comment of his on the ground work when pestered by multiple journalists at press conferences. These small acts of kindness were what turned the tide on Selina’s opinion of Bruce Wayne. She had not been completely won over, but his dedication certainly made her heart crumble.

It seems that the Batman was not just a nocturnal animal, but rather a lonely child trying to fix his family’s broken legacy. The Bat began it all and the flood began to finish it.

“Bruce,” she tries the name on her tongue. Despite her attempts to deny it, she had always found the man quite handsome.

“Bruce,” Alfred whispers from behind her. She turns to face him, heart in her throat.

“I…” Selina doesn’t know what to say.

“Any head injuries?” Alfred may be asking out of concern for his adopted son, but also to distract Selina from the thoughts racing in her head.

“No,” she says.

“Well,” Alfred replies before changing into a new set of gloves. “Help me stitch him up.”

Bruce wakes up with a gasp and the weight of the world on his chest. Needles are pressed into both of his arms and he can feel cool sweat dripping down his forehead despite feeling overheated.

He does not care about his condition, he only cares about-

“Selina,” Bruce yells, whipping his head around the room. Alfred, who had been sitting beside him, wakes up with a start. His hands instantly push Bruce back down on the table.

“She’s safe,” he says. “She’s upstairs. I told her to go to sleep.”

“She knows, doesn’t she?” Alfred nods. “How could you?” Bruce’s voice cracks. “Do you understand what you have done? The kind of people that she hates? I am dead to her now. I am nothing to her because that is what I have always been.”

“If you are nothing then why did I have to drag her upstairs?” Alfred asks. “Why did I have to force her away from your bedside so she could finally rest? Bruce, that woman has been beside you since she dragged you from that alleyway thirty six hours ago.”

Bruce swallows, looking down at the burn marks scattered across his chest.

“Drink,” Alfred hands him a bottle of water. Despite wanting to spite the man, thirst takes over.

“Were you able to take any of the poison?” Asking about the case will distract him from Selina.

“I was able to separate some from your bloodstream. I wasn’t able to get much, but I sent a vial over to your friend at the GCPD and put the other in your lab.”

“Thank you.” Bruce says. He genuinely means it, but his voice is still flat. Selina won’t be able to leave his mind for quite some time.

“I’ll leave you alone for now,” Alfred says. “You should get some more rest before we move you upstairs to your room.”

Bruce stares at the wires and tubes extending from his body. He knows he has no choice but to comply.

“Bruce,” his head snaps up to look at Alfred. “She cares about you.”

“She cares about the Bat,” Bruce says definitively.

“No,” Alfred shakes his head. “Miss Kyle did not stop once she saw your face Bruce. She did not stop once. That worry she had when she took you home remained level the whole time. I dare say it increased once she saw the complete state you were in.”

Bruce tries to find comfort in Alfred’s words, but once again fails. Alfred leaves before Bruce can get another word out. He remains anxious until sleep overtakes him half an hour later.

He sleeps in his room now. Alfred checks his vitals every day and brings him breakfast in bed. Selina has not visited despite living in the tower for several days. Part of Bruce wants to leap out of bed and confront her in his guest room, but cats spook easily, and miraculously he has yet to scare her off. He’d like to keep it that way.

There’s an old episode of Buffy playing on the TV in his room. He’s too lazy to change the channel. Thankfully Alfred no longer forces him to have the IVs in at all times, giving him the chance to toss around in his sleep like he usually does. He tends to curl into a ball or sleep on his front, murmuring about case information as he barely gets rest.

It’s while he turns over to the side that he hears a knock at his bedroom door.

“What, Alfred?” Bruce grumbles.

“Not Alfred,” Selina replies, taking it as her cue to enter the room. Bruce’s head shoots up instantly, staring wide eyed at his partner standing in his room as though this was something that happened regularly. He might be clothed, but without the mask on he felt naked in front of her.

“Selina,” he whispers.

“B,” she whispers back, walking towards him. She carefully sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. There are words coming up her throat and she’s terrified they will come spilling out without rehearsal.

“Why didn’t you leave?” Bruce’s voice cracks. Her eyes soften, just another tear for her to patch up.

“You’re someone I care about,” Selina says, her hand reaching for Bruce’s. Her fingers carefully wrap around his. “I took something from you without your say. Secrets shouldn’t be stripped away like that.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Bruce replies. If this was the only reason she was here, he’d prefer for her to leave.

“I’m here because you are a solace,” she admits. “You are a rope to cling onto while we race through the streets and I cannot let you go.”

“You can’t let him go,” Bruce says. Selina shakes her head, a breathy sad laugh leaving her.

“No,” she replies. “I can’t leave you. Not the Bat, not Bruce, I can’t leave you.”

Her hand moves from his back to his cheek. She’ll never get tired of touching him, never get tired of his reactions to the feeling. He gives instead of holding out like the two of them have done before, leaning into her palm. He has some control, as he tells himself not to nuzzle into it.

She rubs her thumb gently over his lip before pulling herself completely onto his bed, legs folded over each other. Bruce lays back down from his upright position, head on the pillow as she plays with his hair. It’s tender, it’s sweet. The sound of the television makes the whole exchange feel domestic and Selina can’t help but to place a kiss on Bruce’s forehead. He audibly sighs at the feeling of her lips touching his brow. It makes her laugh just a little.

“You truly are touch starved, aren’t you?” Bruce scowls at her words. “I’m just teasing you. Besides, I can change that.”

A sweet sigh leaves Bruce’s mouth at Selina’s words.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you baby?” Bruce can only nod. “Let me know if I hurt you, or if it’s too much.”

He once again nods, too nervous to say anything. Selina pulls the covers off of Bruce gently before straddling his waist. She’s still cradling his head in her hands like a delicate piece of china. It’s then that she decides to kiss him. A small press of her lips against his, her hands moving down his chest as she leans into him. Bruce is quick to reciprocate, wrapping an arm around her waist, trying to find a way to deepen it. Selina laughs against his lips. A part of it is out of joy that she’s with him, the other at his endearing eagerness.

“Slow down cowboy,” she mumbles, her smile still pressed against his.

“I’m trying, I swear,” he presses a kiss against her jawline to emphasize his point. The soft presses travel down her neck, nothing open mouthed, no teeth in sight. He’s simply applying pressure to one of the most modest yet sensitive parts of her, and it seems like he can’t get enough.

“You can give me more,” Selina softly sighs. “I can handle it.” Bruce blushes.

“I’m not entirely sure I know how,” he mumbles into her skin. God was his inexperience cute.

“Let me show you,” Selina all but purrs, pushing Bruce gently against the headboard and pulling his shirt off. Bruce freezes slightly once the shirt is off, but doesn’t make any effort to stop her. Selina herself decides to stop moving her wandering hands.

She stares across his chest. A treasure map of bruises, scars, stitches and the recent burns. She understands now why he stopped. Bruce looks down at her to see not disgust, but pleading eyes.

“You’re not hideously scarred,” she whispers. Her fingers trail across a prominent scar just under his collarbone. She kisses it gently before moving onto one mark after another, almost as if her love could heal every single one. Bruce runs a hand over her short hair as she travels across his skin, trying not to tear up at her actions.

“I want to take care of you,” he says, hands moving down her waist. “Let me take care of you. You’ve taken care of me.”

Just like she did, Bruce carefully removes her top. He seems to be a student who responds quickly by watching and learning. She guides his hands up and down her chest, moving one of his hands to unclasp her bra. It takes him a few tries but soon enough it’s off and discarded, leaving her torso completely exposed to him.

He stares. It’s the only thing he knows how to do. Selina remains a patient teacher, moving to lay on her back so he can kiss down her chest just like she did to him. His tongue swirls a nipple, experimenting gently. Blue eyes watch her every move, searching for every little twitch and whine. His hands grip her closer, a desperate plea to make sure she doesn’t squirm away. He can’t have her escape now.

They move down to the waistband of her leggings, teasing and snapping as he places kisses along her stomach now. Selina moves her legs wider in anticipation, not truly expecting him to make a move, but preparing in case he gathered the courage to pull her bottoms off.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “You can do whatever you’d like.”

“Do you promise to teach me?” Selina melts.

“Whatever you want baby,” she rises back up to give him a soft kiss. “I’ll help you with whatever you want.”

That’s all Bruce needs to desperately pull off her leggings and panties. He spreads her legs, hands gripping her thighs tightly, already leaving red marks against her. He falters a bit, clearly realizing the situation he’s in.

“You don’t have t-”

“I want to,” Bruce nods enthusiastically. “I want to taste all of you.” Those words should not leave a shiver running down Selina’s spine, but they get to her nevertheless.

Bruce situates himself back between her legs, pressing a kiss against the curls guarding her. He licks once, ever so slowly up against her cunt and feels Selina’s thighs begin to clench around his head. He takes this as a good sign, moving to do the action once again. This time Bruce stops at the little pearl at the top of Selina’s pussy. He was a smart man, he knew basic female anatomy, so Bruce decided that his best course of action was to suck. His tongue swirled around Selina’s clit, gathering the taste of girl onto his lips, leaving Selina to moan and beg and put her hands in his hair.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” Selina whimpered. “That’s it baby, such a good boy.”

Bruce tries to ignore the way her praise goes straight to his cock. He distracts himself by tracing little figure eights on her hips, spelling her name out with his fingers. He kisses her hip bone, nipping at the fat of her thigh before tugging with his teeth. His tongue immediately soothes the red spot that follows.

“Fingers?” He whispers against her skin.

“Please,” she gasps out. “Fuck, please B.” Even as she lays in her bed Selina uses his name. Not the name he was given at birth, not the name that Gotham had given him, Selina uses his name.

He fulfills her wish, his index finger breaching her and slowly moving in and out. He begins to explore, ever perceptive, ever the experimenter. Small crooks of his finger have her gasping and moaning the most. Her breathing halts when he touches a particular spot and that’s when he decides to abuse it. Adding a second finger into her, he pries her way open. The way she clenches around his fingers is delicious, but the taste of her is so much better.

Bruce decides to dive back in, her clit on his tongue as his lithe fingers continue to play with her.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Selina groans. “Gonna cum if you keep touching me like that.”

“Isn’t that the goal?” Bruce replies, face slick with her. Selina nods vigorously.

“Yes, yes please, ye-” Bruce laps at her before she can continue to beg. She sounds like the crescendo in a symphony, rising higher and higher and higher before one final crest. Her breathing is a whole rest. Her sigh, the end.

“Are you sure you haven’t done that before?” Selina asks with a breathy laugh.

“Don’t feed my ego like that,” Bruce says, chin still glistening. Selina kisses him then, the taste of her shared on their tongues as she grinds on his lap. She can feel his cock salivatingly hard through his boxers.

“It’s unfair that I’m completely bare for you and I don’t get to see…” She plays with his waistband just as he had played with hers. Bruce gulps, simply out of nerves and the pleasure of being teased. “We don’t have to go further-”

“I need you to go further,” Bruce whispers. Selina obliges, taking his cock out with a gentle pull and tugging him up and down slowly. She doesn’t bother looking, she’d prefer to see this sight. Bruce Wayne in front of her with his eyes closed, head only supported by the headboard behind him. The first moan he unleashes at her first touch could easily be her favorite sound. She needs to ride him.

“Where do you want me baby?” She asks sweetly. She knows exactly where she wants to be.

“Wanna feel, w-wanna-” It’s Bruce’s turn to stutter now. A time for him to get a taste of his own medicine.

“Feel what angel?” Selina coos. “You can’t get it unless you tell me.”

“In you,” Bruce manages to sigh out. “Wanna be in you.”

“But where in me?” Selina asks coyly. She’s playing with her food just for the fun of it. “Come on baby, tell me.”

“Wanna feel your pussy,” Bruce whimpers, truly and beautifully whimpers. Selina has no choice but to say yes.

“Of course baby,” Selina says, moving to put him inside of her. “How could I ever deny you?”

It’s then that she decides to finally look at his length, and God was it just the way she liked it. A little bit thick, a few extra inches, and enough for her to take everyday without being in pain.

She sits herself down slowly, enjoying every single bit of the stretch. The noise Bruce makes when she gently puts the tip of his cock in is unhinged. Part growl, part gasp, Bruce swears that he is in heaven. Selina is the closest he would ever reach to it, and that was more than enough for him.

“You want me to move B?” Selina asks when she’s fully seated down. Bruce can only nod, too scared at what noise might come out of his mouth. She doesn’t tease him this time, merely beginning the slow bounce up and down as she rests her hands on his shoulders.

Bruce reaches out to pull her flush against his chest, a hand on her back as he begins to thrust up into her, matching her rhythm. Selina sighs into his shoulders, clutching and desperately grabbing at his back. Despite her resolve, she claws at him. Long red marks traveling across his shoulder blades and spine. The pain seems to only encourage Bruce. It’s a sign that she’s more than enjoying herself.

“Don’t know if I can-”

“It’s okay baby,” Selina coos. “You can cum in me.”

“Should’ve asked if-” Bruce gets out. “If safe, if-”

“I’m safe Bruce, I promise,” Selina presses a kiss to his shoulder. He was far more considerate than any man had been to her before when it came to protection. “You can cum in me, I want you to. Can you do that for me B?”

And Bruce could never deny her, just as he could never deny him. He finishes inside her with a sob, feeling slightly embarrassed at how soon the pleasure was over. Selina strokes his hair as he comes down, making no attempt to get off of him.

“You okay baby?” Selina caresses his face. It’s become one of her favorite things to do. Bruce is unable to speak, he only nods. “Do you wanna sleep?”

“Yeah,” his voice comes out hoarse.

“Okay babe, let’s get you cleaned up,” Selina goes to move off before she’s tugged back against Bruce’s chest.

“No,” he grumbles. “Just stay.” He pulls the sheets up over them, maneuvering the two of them on their sides. Bruce’s cock remains in Selina as she wraps her legs around her waist. She’s too pleasure drunk to disagree, and if she felt this fuzzy, she could only imagine the high Bruce was going through.

“Okay baby,” Selina pressed a kiss to Bruce’s head. “Sleep now.”

“Sleep now,” he mumbled.

Selina remembered tragedy. She remembered her mother and Annika and the flood. She remembered the Waynes dead in the street and their son watching them carried in caskets down Main.

She remembers that it brought the two of them together. That the scales would not have been balanced if not for their secrets.

Selina Kyle may not believe in fairy tales, but maybe she could finally believe in the kindness of familiar yet distant strangers.

She could finally rest.

#batcat #batman 2022 fanfic #spicy time #batman smut #piper writes

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sibsteria · 2 years

Text

Two Brunettes and A Boyle [pt3]

[Jake Peralta/fem!Reader/Jonah Simms mini series]

Things you need to know:

I have kept Amy and Adam together, for story purposes.

Slow-burn

Sorry for the amount of POV switches in this one.

Masterlist

3/?

Present day...

Droplets of water tap against my tile floor as I step out of the shower, I wince, my side still as sore as someone losing an arcade game.

I hear the door to my apartment slam shut, panic rising until an all too familiar voice rung out. I forgot I gave him a key, wasn’t expecting him until later.

‘‘Hey, Y/n/n!’‘

I smile upon hearing his cheery tune.

‘‘Out in a sec, a little wet right now!’’ Hearing his signature chuckle, I begin towel drying my hair.

Jonah’s POV

Damn, she has a lot of stairs.

I let out a relief filled breath as I finally reach her door, rapping my knuckles against the low grade wood.

A few footsteps sound until the door is lightly pulled open.

‘’Uh, hey.’’ I’m stood toe to toe with a man slightly taller than me.

‘‘Uh-uh, is Y/n here?’’ I stumble over my words, didn’t know she had company this early.

‘‘Yeah she’ll be-’‘

‘‘Coming through! Still in a towel, avert your eyes, Peralta.’’

Both of our heads whip towards the shout, he looks me up and down slightly before retorting back to her.

‘‘I’ll try!’’ He looks dimly smug at me.

I retort with a tight lipped smile. Who is this guy?

The white paper bag in my hand feel clammy, so I switch it to my right.

End of Jonah’s POV

‘‘I’ll try!’‘ Damn, him.

Promenading towards my living room, adjacent to the open kitchen and front door, I don’t have time to search for my hair brush before I’m caught of guard.

‘‘Shit, Jonah, hi!’’ I stand awkwardly, hands tightening around my towel.

‘‘Hi.’‘ He clears his throat.

‘‘Come-’‘

‘‘Sorry, I just thought I’d drop these off for you, hassled Tate yesterday into getting the Grade A stuff.’‘ He waves the pharmacy bag at me.

‘‘Yeah that’s good- uhm, thanks, just come in and I’ll be right out.’‘

I almost exit without what I came for.

‘‘Oh by the way, Jake meet Jonah, Jonah-uh you get it.’‘ I wave them off.

I yank my hair brush from the coffee table before briskly walking back the way I came, this time to my bedroom.

Jake’s POV

‘‘So, Jonah-’‘ I test out his name, I don’t know why I’m being so bitchy, it’s just coming naturally, ‘’Tea? Coffee? Water?’’ I raise an eyebrow, moving to the side to let him pass through.

‘‘N-no, I’m fine.’’ He seems to have this neurotic energy about him.

He moves to sit awkwardly on Y/n’s couch, hands touching his knees.

I shrug, moving to make myself a coffee.

‘‘So, what do you do?’‘ I quip him further, a little awkward chit-chat never hurt anyone.

‘‘I work with Y/n, at Cloud Nine. I heard she was coming back today so I thought I’d come see her before my morning shift.’‘ His hand goes to place down the bag of painkillers on her table, that previously stood next to his feet.

‘‘Cool, cool, that-uh, must be nice having such a ball of sunshine around all the time.’‘ I notice the twitch of his eye, yikes, I didn’t even say anything cocky.

‘‘Sun-sunshine, yeah. She’s the best person I know.’’

‘‘Isn’t she.’‘ I lean one hand against her counter, taking a sip of my brewed coffee.

‘‘What do you do? Haven’t really seen you before- or-or heard of you.’‘ He scratches at his neck, damn this kid can’t undermine me for shit.

‘‘Detective, NYPD, Jake Peralta. Y/n hasn’t told me about you either,’‘ I shrug, hiding my smile in my mug as I take another swig.

‘‘Ah, NYPD- what are you doing in St. Louis?’‘ He seems a little confused, eyes squinting.

‘‘My captain forced me to have some some time off, too good at my job to quit, Charles’ suggested I come here for a little while. Away from the city and all that.’‘ I shrug my head over to my bag.

‘‘Ah, so you’re staying with Y/n? For how long? Charles, is her brother, right?’‘ This guy and his questions.

‘‘Yeah, for a few days, can’t keep my hands away from the badge. Me and Charles share the same precinct, one of my best friends.’‘ I didn’t meant to knock him down a peg but the deflated look on his face told me I had.

‘‘Ha, ha, besties.’‘ His voice trails off, I hold in a snicker, his awkwardness wow.

End of Jake’s POV

Appropriately dressed to re-join the chaos that I just know is waiting for me, I return to the boys.

Both of them seem relieved to see me, Jonah more so.

‘‘So, this is what couldn’t wait until my shift?’‘ I tease, pointing to the pills.

‘‘I thought it’d be nice!’‘ He visibly relaxes, morphing into his usual self.

‘‘It is, I’m just a little surprised you came here at seven in the morning, an hour before your shift. And you mister I’m-late-all-the-time, how the hell are you here? You don’t look like a man who just drove for twelve hours.’‘ I laugh at the tall brunette hogging my kitchen.

‘‘Three AM flight. booked it a couple days ago. Couldn’t sleep thinking about my favourite girl.’‘ He teases me, his trade mark joke voice appeals to my ears as I walk past him to get my own coffee.

‘‘Charmed.’‘

He points to a ready made coffee, I fake stumble and place a hand over my heart, feigning awe I didn’t need to feign.

‘‘For me?’‘ I giggle, placing the warm mug between my hands, now cold.

‘‘Aren’t I a gentleman.’‘ He tips a pretend hat, following me to sit. He chooses the arm chair as I prop myself next to Jonah.

‘‘I should get going, soon. I promised Chey she could paint my nails.’‘ He looks slightly awkward, I suppose I did just accidentally ignore him to boost my dynamic with Jake.

‘‘Okie dokie, I can’t wait to see ‘em later, send all my love to that girl.’‘ I salute him as he brushes himself off.

‘‘What about me?’‘ He resumes back to confidence.

‘‘You’re lucky you got to see me before her, I’m still shaking with excitement for our reunion hug.’‘ I grin thinking about Chey.

‘‘Yadda-yadda. I’ll see you soon, soldier.’‘ He salutes back, fronting to my door.

‘‘Me and J gotta hold down the bunker for a few more hours, try not to miss me.’‘ I laugh, his back tenses when I finish, what’s got into him.

‘‘O-okay.’‘ He leaves without a quippy one-liner he would usually retort with, no ‘I always do’ or ‘why would I ever’. Hmm. Strange, boy.

‘‘So, girly, what’s on the agenda.’’ Jake stands up, plopping down next to me.

‘‘Wha'ddy'a’ think?’‘ I smirk at him, testing the goof.

He takes my remote before flipping over the apps to turn on my favourite group of stuntmen.

‘‘Lucky guess.’‘ I huff, he pushes my shoulder.

‘‘I just know you.’‘

His line hangs in the air, guess he does, all these late night hour long phone calls really pay off. I mean we are already on nickname grounds. He’s just so sweet and attentive and- really a good change for my usual crowd.

I’d spent a week in NYC, charging myself up, recovering so I could drive back to St Louis without issue. We got to mingle a lot then, always seeing him around Charles’ house, helping me out.

Once we settled into the gnarly but comforting media playing, his arm lays nonchalantly around my shoulders. I try not to stiffen, why is this affecting me?

Now that I think about it-

Jonah’s POV

J. J.

Why did she have to call him that? I thought that was my thing.

And, Sunshine? God, what is this guy doing? I’ve used that since day one.

Mr Impressive Detective. I recognise his name from the papers, his big drug busts, saving lives, not that I’d let him know that.

I guess J is just...Jake but shortened. Jake/Jonah, whatever.

And she is really everyone’s sunshine, is he sleeping with her, though? I didn’t know cops were her thing.

Who am I kidding, she watches me stack shelves, I’m not out there risking my life.

I don’t even take in how many stairs I’ve just gone down but when I’m inside my car I slam the steering wheel, groaning in frustration. My head is swimming with jealousy and questions.

She probably isn’t sleeping with him. She would have told me, unless I’m really not her best friend then...ouch.

Crushing on a woman who could get anyone she wanted really messes with a guy.

Is it just a crush?

End of Jonah’s POV

-he is...cute hot. I guess I have kind of endeared him since I had first lay eyes on him. His wind tousled hair, concerned yet kind eyes, big smile. Mind you, I was bleeding out, delirious.

I peek at him.

His big brown eyes lighting up at the couple of jackasses on tv. His, still big, smile pouring out laughter. His hair, now in it’s normal form, still pretty. His hand slapping against his knee lightly after a particularly funny moment plays. His other hand, curled so gently around my shoulder, radiating a warmth.

Oh, shit.

#superstore #superstore x reader #superstore imagine #superstore jonah imagine #jonah simms #jonah imagine #jonah simms imagine #jonah x reader #jonah simms x reader #jake peralta #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta imagines #jake peralta x reader #b99 jake peralta x reader #b99 imagine #b99 imagines #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine

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mvshortcut · 1 year

Note

My dude, you got any advice for writing action/escape scenes? Brain is empty right now. Absolutely dry; no creative juices (well, some creative juices; it’s really just this one specific part of the plot that I’m wrestling with)

Hooo boy I am by no means an expert of any sort and I'm still pretty new to this whole writing thing! Plus I've definitely been winging it on every action/fight scene I've written before. But I'm delighted to ramble about it - hopefully you might find something helpful in here!

My favorite solution to "brain is empty" is to take a shower. Literally it's a free chance to daydream about your plot (and get ideas!) while you shampoo your hair. Alternatively I like to put on fun music and move around, possibly act out the action/escape scene.

Or alternatively, the good ol' [Character Escapes] in brackets, keep writing, and come back to it another day.

Also if you have one really specific detail that you want to write but are drawing a blank on what comes before/after it - just write that one bit, really spend time with it, and have fun! Leave the rest for another day.

I've always felt the build-up is the most important part! It can help you increase the tension as well as bring in key details that will come back later during the action scene.

Setting! Even though action scenes are generally pretty fast-paced, it really helps ground it if you can describe a few memorable details sensory about your setting, and then have your characters interact with/use the setting during the action.

One thing I like to do is chunking (there might be a technical term for this but idk what it is lol). So basically I find that dividing the action scene up into chunks helps me tackle it better. It might help to think of each "chunk" as its own individual mini-scene. Like maybe the location changes, and that's a new "chunk," or maybe it's just the next "step" of the action scene. Either way, I like to go back and really tighten up each chunk - like, did I really ground this in the setting? Does this help me get to the next part? etc

Also related - pacing! This can be done with the events of the scene itself (how fast are they happening? how much time do you spend describing something?) and also your writing itself (do you use really choppy words and kinda harsh syllables to speed it up? what about punctuation - em dash my beloved). If the whole thing is too fast it can get confusing - it's good to vary slow and fast-paced bits. This is where the "chunking" can become helpful!

I find that reading it aloud (or even just in my head) helps me to understand the pacing and see where I might need to speed it up/slow it down

The last one that I find helpful is looking at power dynamics. So, let's say you have an escape scene. If the person escaping is waaaay overpowered by the people they're being tracked down by, it's gonna be pretty difficult to write an action scene that doesn't end in like 5 seconds with the person being caught! (This goes for like. person vs environment/nature/etc as well.) Basically I just look at the strengths/weaknesses of everyone involved and say, is this generally balanced enough so that the audience is scared for our protagonist, but it's reasonable to hope that they might escape? If someone is overpowered, is there an obstacle I could use that knocks them down a peg? Is there some hidden ability our protagonist might have that allows them to gain an advantage or outsmart their opponent?

Anyways this got super long; my apologies! Again I'm still new to this whole thing so try some stuff out and see what clicks for you!!

#ok now you gotta tell me who your favorite mbs villain is👀#because now I’m super. Curious #get it #bc your name is acollectionof*curious*reblogs #hehe #[audience groans]#[Milligan high fives me for my super lame joke]#anyways! sorry this got so long I love rambling about things I have no idea/knowledge about #also super hyped for whatever you’ve got brewing 👀 is this for psychic file??#writing

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moonwaterart · 1 year

Text

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This is the first chapter to a project I’m working on. A slow burn Lambert centric fic called ‘False Idols’. If you wanna read it as it comes out, please click here!!

Anyway, enjoy :)

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False Idols

Chapter 1: Salt in the Wounds

Word count: 3,396

—

Death eventually comes for everyone if they wait long enough. An inevitable end for all those who walk the mortal coil. As you live and breathe you step closer and closer to the warm embrace of the afterlife. That’s why when it’s unexpected and sudden, people tend to mourn. At the same time, sometimes there’s no time to mourn.

Remembering how his whole village was torn to shreds. How his mother told him to run and never look back, how the shackles felt as he was brought before the bishops of The Old Faith…

Lambert was never given the time to mourn.

Maybe that’s why he showed no mercy then. Maybe if he had gotten some semblance of closure, just maybe he would have tried to find compromise. He would have tried the route Ratau had told them he tried going down…

The only time he broke down about what had happened was when Ratau showed him how to play Knucklebones after he was given the powers to exact his revenge. It was a difficult first night as a cult leader at such a young age.

Taking on the powers the god of death once previously possessed gave the young lamb immortality and immunity to permanent death. A blessing, sure, but one of the experiences he would never wish on another. Mainly due to the fact that he could feel every fatal injury he sustained when he was brought back to life.

When he was first killed after starting on his crusade, it was when Leshy stabbed him through the abdomen with a well placed spike Lambert didn’t see coming. The god of death reassured him with a sickeningly sweet tone that he would be brought back to fight once again as he was so close to destroying the first chain.

When he was deposited back in his camp, the surge of pain through his abdomen made Lambert awaken his small group of followers with the scream he had let out. Nothing could have prepared him for it nor the bruise that had formed under the wool. He couldn’t walk for a solid four days from the pain, one of his early followers taking on the responsibility of making sure he did nothing but rest. They helped him with eating and his hygiene, even helping with walking until he was confident enough to move on his own again.

Everytime he died after that it did get easier to shake off the pain, but he would cry nonetheless at his failures.

That is why when he defeated the one he once served, he used the power he had developed to give him a fate befitting someone with a massive ego needing to be knocked down a few pegs such as Narinder. He stripped the god of the majority of his powers and brought him into his fold. The old god was very unhappy with the situation and would mutter, grumble and refuse to eat or work. He chose to stay in his assigned home mainly due to pride, but also the welts and bruising he was suffering from.

Lambert checked on him after the second day, lidded bowl of hot soup in one hand and medical kit tucked under his other arm. He was hurting as well, but he could walk it off with enough camellia tea and rest.

Over the years of fighting and leading, he had established a nice community of followers who looked out for one another. They took equal responsibility for making sure everyone was taken care of. People found their passions and figured out jobs that worked best for them. Families were formed, the community grew and it truly was a thriving community.

Lambert sighed, shifting the bowl to the other hand and knocked on the door. “Narinder? I’m coming in.”

“You come in here and I will end you, you damned lamb!” Came his reply.

“I doubt you could anymore as you couldn’t even kill me the first time after everything that happened.” Came Lambert’s reply. “Besides I brought you food and I’m here to check over your wounds.”

“You couldn’t do that earlier? What kind of leader are you?”

This cat-

“Look, I would have sent someone to look after you if you didn’t scamper off like some crazed injured animal.” Lambert said with a slightly annoyed tone to his voice. “You needed to cool off and lick your own wounds. I allowed you to do that and now I’m here to help you whether you want it or not.”

He turned the handle and pushed the door inward as the door opened. A small handcrafted pot flew at him, barely missing his head as it crashed against the doorframe and shattering. Narinder huffing and puffing, his tail bristling and puffed up as he growled at the sheep in the doorway. Lambert stepped inside and shut the door behind him, noticing how the cat leaned against the frame that led into the small kitchen area, an arm clutching at the side of his body that threw the pot.

“Go take a seat at your table, I brought you food.”

“Go fuck yourself you damn lamb.” Narinder hissed

“Yeah yeah, just go sit down. You look like you’re going to topple over.” The sheep brushed off the hostile attitude and made his way over to the dining table in question, setting his offering down there. “The temple cooks made stew with what the fishers brought in this morning. Eat and get some of your strength back and let me take a look at your side.”

“I would rather starve!”

“Well that’s unfortunate because you’d just be a walking skeleton at that point.” Lambert turned to give him a knowing smile. “If I may remind you-“

“You may not-“

“-You cannot die, Narinder. You’re like me when you first gave me immortality, only you didn’t have a neck cramp the first few days of building a community from the ground up.” He finished. He pulled out a seat at the table and pat the back of it. “Take a seat. Eat your food. I’ll give you a bit to do so. If you need help walking over here-“

“I don’t need your help you stupid lamb.” Narinder hissed. The god didn’t quip back, holding his hands up and taking a step to the side to give the cat some space.

Slowly but surely, Narinder pushed off the archway and limped his way over to the table. He stumbled a few times and Lambert started to move towards him only for Narinder to hiss at him and the lamb would stop and allow him to continue. Soon he took a seat in the pulled out chair and took the lid off the bowl. His nose flaring slightly as he took a few big sniffs. He could feel his stomach growl as he took in the seafood scent.

It had been… who knows how long since he actually needed to eat. He would never admit it, but he did miss the taste of anything edible in his mouth. When he reached godhood, anything he ate would just rot, so he stopped eating for pleasure due to it never giving that once he truly became the god of death.

He took the bowl, raising it to his lips before he hesitated. What if the rot followed him here?

Lambert saw his hesitation. “Hey… just take a deep breath.” He reminded the cat.

Narinder gave him a side glare and took a sip. It was still warm as he let it sit in his mouth for a second, waiting for the souring taste to set in. Nothing came. His ears perked and his irises widened. He swallowed the broth and soon he was scarfing down the stew, a small rumble coming from his chest. A pur.

Lambert perked up, but said nothing as he watched the cat finish off the bowl, setting it to the side. He savored the taste left behind, his tail swaying lazily even though it was still puffed and bristled. Though with a filled belly, the sheep could see it did decrease in size slightly. They stayed in silence for a few minutes before the cat spoke up.

“If you touch anything that isn’t pained, I will go for your throat.”

Lambert chuckled. “Well then you’ll need to tell me where you’re hurting so I can keep breathing.”

The cat sighed and motioned for the lamb to his other side before pulling the shirt up and off the pained side. “There’s still some bleeding so the fur is matted slightly. A rib might be fractured too… work fast, lamb. I want you out of my sight.”

Lambert nodded and got to work, flipping open the medical kit and taking out what he needed in order to carefully push back the fur as best as he could. He heard the ex-god growl, but he didn’t move, allowing the sheep the opportunity to clean and dress the wound. Lambert did have to shave off the fur around the wound, but Narinder bit his tongue from saying something snarky. His tail flicking quickly did indicate how unhappy he was about the situation, but he said nothing other than a hiss or growl as the minutes ticked by.

Soon the sheep stepped back, standing up and closing the kit. “There. I’m done. How are you feeling? Is the bandage laying correctly in a way you’ll be alright with?”

Narinder glared at him before looking away. “I guess you did a good job, lamb.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“Only for you to leave me be.” He quipped. Lambert chuckled again.

“Then I’ll get out of your fur.” He cleaned up the table, tucking the medical kit back under his arm and closed the bowl once more so he could travel on foot once more. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me.”

“Don’t push your luck, lamb. I let you help me this once, don't expect me to grovel to you like your followers. I would rather be chained up again.”

“Whatever you say, Narinder. I’ll bring you some dinner later today and some camelia tea.” The clacking of his hooves against the stone of the house was the only sound heard until the door opened. There was a pause. “I’ll bring a broom and pan with me when I come back.”

With that said, the door shut and Narinder was left alone. He allowed his fur to settle down and he inspected the wrap job of the bandage. He had to admit, the sheep did know how to provide first aid as needed. Years of practice and mentors would do that to a person. Putting his shirt back on fully, he got up from the table, winced and hobbled his way over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly and squinting at the light that came in from the afternoon sun. He observed the liveliness of the people in the street. Children running about playing with one another, some cult members talking to one another as they took a break from working for a bit to socialize. It was strange, but it reminded him of when he was younger, before ever becoming a bishop of the old faith and ascension. Part of him longed to go out and maybe try to get to know one or two people, but the bitter feeling of squashed pride brought him back and he shut the curtains once more.

—

“It’s bizarre. Really. He seems so…” Lambert was at a loss for words as he rolled his dice and set it in the second row. “I don’t know how to describe it. It’s still so mind boggling that he is the way he is now. Not this god I once worked towards freeing, but a cat so angry at the world.”

“I doubt any of usss could tell you, Lambert.” Flinky replied, rolling their own and placing it in the third row, Lambert grumbled slightly, removing the streak he had going and rolling again.

“It’s true, there aren't many alive that can answer you that, wee lamb. You could perhaps ask Clauneck or Kudaai?” Klunko suggested.

“Perhaps he could, but those two are always speaking in riddles and circles! Who the hell can understand them?” Shrumy waved a hand in dismissal before taking a drink from his flask. “Always talkin’ about eternal flames and unmoving destinies. Why would he go out of his way to find them? It’s as if they have some stupid cosmic energy about them. Like they don’t want to be found unless they feel the need to be there! Ridiculous if you ask me!”

“Now Shrumy, there’s no reason why Lambert couldn’t seek them out. He’s a very capable leader and quite the fighter.” Ratau interjected. Lambert was like a child to him, so no matter the consequence he would always defend the sheep in his actions.

The Knucklebones gang always got into debates when they got together. When he was younger, anytime Lambert came over to check on Ratau, they’d allow the young cult leader to play a round or two and allowing him to bet a small amount of gold, but nothing more. Now that he was older and his horns were fully starting to come in, they started showing no mercy, even allowing him to join in on their conversations and bet like a real adult. Occasionally he’d join in on a drink or two, but Ratau wouldn’t give him anything too strong.

“Shrumy is right, they are kind of hard to find…” Lambert sighed, he’d lost the round and slid over the gold he’d lost to the snake. “But… at the same time it wouldn’t hurt to try and find them… right?”

“We couldn’t tell you, Lambert. That’ssss ssssomething you’d have to decide for yourself.” Flinky concluded. “Would it be worth learning about? Or would it jussst… be a waste of time?”

“That’s truly the questions you need to ask yourself, Lambert.” Ratau patted the sheep’s back before he got up. “If it helps, you can always check Shamura’s inner sanctum. You may have left it to crumble, but Shamura was always one to keep record of everything to my knowledge.”

Lambert looked at him, confused. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard of a record being kept by one of the old bishops. Have you known about this for a while?”

“That I have, you just never asked about it until now.” The rat confessed, poking the sheep with his cane. “Now move over, this rat has some bets to win.”

Lambert stepped aside and got Ratau a chair. The rat thanked him before Shrumy shooed Flinky away from the other side and the two got to playing. Lambert thought as the two played and chatted with the others there. It really wouldn’t hurt to go to the ruins… but it also wasn’t a bad idea to go find the two mysterious beings that helped him out through the years. At least if he was going for all three options he wouldn’t be disappointed if he lost out on any information.

Fluffing his wool, he quietly made his way outside Ratau’s old shack. He stopped by the small altar the old rat had set up, feeling divine energy course through his body. If he was to journey to The Silk Cradle, he may as well start his journey then and there. He wanted answers, and only divine intervention would stop him… and by divine intervention he meant followers calling him back because they needed something.

Gods running a cult was hard.

He took the path his normal route took him until he got to the worn yet familiar pentagram on the stone slab in a clearing nearby, stepping into it the power of the red crown took over and he seemingly melted into the slab only to emerge within his wanted location save for the accuracy. If he knew the exact location of where the inner sanctum really was, he could teleport there no problem, but that was the problem.

None of the bishops ever fought with him in their temples. Lambert never got close to one in order to clock it so he’d have to wander for a while in order to even find a place where he could find a teleportation sigil. He didn’t have much time left though. Looking at the lack of glistening cobwebs above him, he could tell it was getting late and he needed to bring food to his newest follower soon.

“Well… you ready to hoof it?” He asked to seemingly no one, but the answer came in the form of his crown melting into an ichor that circled his arm until it formed an axe in his hand. “Not what I would choose initially for here, but it’ll do. Thanks.”

Without another word, he ventured forth into the cobweb infested biome.

The Silk Cradle didn’t seem to change much since he’d last been there a few days prior, but everything seemed a bit more chaotic. It didn’t take much time at all for Lambert to be swarmed with spiderlings of all kinds and a few devoted followers of the old god of war. The sheep learned long ago that he couldn’t convince them to join his side. It was better to slaughter them and continue on his way. It seemed like no time at all when he found silk covered ruins. A marker so he could come back to later to continue his journey.

He did a decent job in staying out of the line of fire for the most part, but he did get hit a few times in the back and legs, so there was no doubt he’d end up with bigger bruising then he already had.

’Oh well.’

“Thanks for your help, friend. This is where we’re stopping today. We can come back in the morning.” The crown seemed to understand and the same ichor came back, this time climbing Lambert’s arm and settling back onto his head as he took one last look around and melted away, going back to his sect for the night.

He emerged in his temple where he was greeted by one of his priests who came over and bowed deeply. A little mouse with rust colored fur and a chipped ear. “Good evening, Great Leader! How was your evening out?”

“Oh! It went very well, thank you for asking, Leonidas. Is dinner still being served?”

“That it is, Great Leader. Do you need a bowl for the newest member?”

“I do, yes.”

“As you wish, follow me.” Leonidas turned on his heel and scurried off towards the kitchen, the sheep following not too far behind him.

“Any trouble while I was away?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. Don’t worry about that.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.”

Pristine marbled walls stretched high above them, gold laced within each imperfection to hide it from view. Tapestries and carvings of stone lines the walls every now and again on their jaunt through the corridors until they stopped at a doorway. The mouse turned and bowed once more.

“Here we are. Have a good night, Great Leader.”

“And you as well, Leonidas. Thank you.” The sheep reached down and placed his hand on the other’s head, divine blessing flowing freely like a warm hug to the mouse who gladly accepted. When Lambert pulled his hand away, the other smiled up at him, turning and leaving the sheep to grab what he needed in order to satisfy the appetite of himself as well as Narinder. The cooks were more than happy to comply with Lambert’s request.

Tonight was a new dish they were wanting to try out. A noodle dish that was a fan favorite of their family. Giving their bishop his bowl to eat before packing him a bowl to go for Narinder. Lambert was impressed by the new dish and loved the taste of the gravy that coated the noodles. He approved one the dish being made more often and to be added to the ever growing list of recipes which seemed to please the cook that suggested the dish. With a blessing to the chefs, Lambert finished his food and took the covered bowl, making his way back to Narinder’s residence.

#baps writes sometimes #work in progress #lambert #cult of the lamb #cotl the lamb #cult of the lamb lambert #cotl lambert #cotl narinder #cult of the lamb narinder #knucklebones #knucklebones gang #fanfiction writing #fanfiction #lambert trying his best

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underthenightskydreamsneverdie · 11 months

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12, 16, 28, 29 and 37!

12. What’s their patronus? What memory do they call upon to cast it? I feel like Aldora would have a badger as her patronus. She is a perfect embodiment of their inner ferocity, and misleading outward appearance. The memory she picks is a simple one of being with her parents, laughing as they sit around the dinner table.

16. What would their Boggart turn into? How would they defeat it? This is a tough one...I think her greatest fear is being a disappointment to her friends and family, a fear that has only worsened since she discovered her Ancient Magic abilities. I think this would have many appearances for her over time, but would ultimately be seeing the ones she loves dead. The first time the boggart shifts into Sebastian's or Ominis' or her parents dead bodies she wouldn't be able to cope with it and someone else would have to step in and save her. She loves them for that but swears to never let it happen again, and spends time trying to find something funny about each person she loves dying (a morbid task that makes her grumpy and irritable)

28. How does your character behave around people they dislike? Aldora tries to be civil and thinks everyone deserves basic kindness, until they pick on someone who can't fight back on an equal level. After that, she'll whip out her wand, and jinx them mercilessly. She loves knocking bullies down a few pegs.

29. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat? Most of the time Aldora like to confront a problem head on, if she can whip out her wand and fight her way out of it. If it's an emotional problem she will remove herself so fast you might actually question if she was really a part of the situation to begin with. She'll disappear for a day or two while she thinks things through, then come back and work the problem out with a clear head.

37. Silly bonus question #1: Who does your MC fancy? Do you even need to ask? Babe is a diehard Sallow simp. She has been utterly captivated since he took the fall for her with Scribner, and looks forward to every single second they spend together.

Thanks for the ask, love!

#MC ask game #Aldora Stone #hogwarts legacy mc #ask answered #shadowtriovibes

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weedle-testaburger · 3 years

Conversation

blm: the police need to stop intimidating, profiling, abusing and killing poc

the police: sorry did you say we should intimidate, profile, abuse and kill more poc and hope you shut up? got it

#political crap #tw police brutality #i can't tell if the police and their unions are delusional or just that authoritarian #ether way fuck em so hard #someone needs to step in and knock them down a few pegs #i lowkey still don't support abolition since all the follow-ups to that basically involve one of 2 outcomes:#1) replace them with something totally different that assumes neighbourhoods will just cooperate nicely because white flight? what's that?#or 2) replace them with police 2: brutality boogaloo #but defunding their scummy unions to strengthen those for professions that need union support #and taking away their '''riot control gear''' (read: corporal punishment implements)? yes fucking please

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r-r-raf · 3 years

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Thinking abt. Logan

#Raf's rambles #Ive talked abt this before I'm sure. But like. What I find interesting abt Logan is. The fact that his insecurities are entirely of his own #making. Which is all insecurities sure but like. What I mean is that. Although Logan /has/ been ignored and brushed aside in the past #he isn't. //more// ignored than anyone else. I feel like there are fewer Big Instances of him being ignored when compared to say. Roman #or Patton. Logan's feelings of being. Brushed aside; unwanted; unloved are all ultimately. Kinda exaggerated. Because it's he himself that #is so thoroughly convinced that the others don't want him. He believes this to be true; so he takes instances of those insecurities being #reaffirmed and clings onto them. Magnifies them. Ignores the context so that the issue solely remains on /him/ being the problem #and in a way. He sort of is?? He. Perpetuates his own insecurities without knowing it. He /wants/ to be heard so he pushes aside others #he //knows// that the others don't care so he brushes off any attempts at an apology they offer. And it's. His bluntness; the way he pushes #the way he is always so insistent. That leads to the others not listening. Because things can't always be handled in such a straight #forward manner. Because sometimes bluntness can be overwhelming. Because sometimes there are steps in between u gotta take before #'fixing' the problem; which Logan tends to ignore. But Logan doesn't see this; he clings onto the fact that he was ignored #and so that leads to the anger. The sort of anger directed at everyone and no one at once. The sort of anger that builds until it boils #over. The sort of anger that /scares/ you. The sort of anger that would cause someone to reject comfort and apologies even when they #are so readily extended. And idk if I'm making sense but Im just saying that. Logan's the one that's driving himself into a downward #spiral by continuously ignoring the others; which in turn makes the others give him some not so great reactions at best; which then #leads to more frustration and then y'know. The cycle continues. And I think what Logan needs is for someone to call him the fuck out on #everything tbh. I love him but he needs to be knocked down a few pegs for him to see what he's doing to himself and to others #I think. Idk aksja idk if Im making sense but yeah <33

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weeyou · 3 years

Text

first time pegging xiao

featuring. . . xiao

summary. . . following up on your promise from last time, pegging xiao is now the highest priority on your agenda, but why don't you take him out on a date first? afab reader

cw. . . 18+ content! pegging, vibrators/ butt plugs in public, reader has a vision, slight dacryphilia, praise, name calling (slut), mild choking, hair pulling, dick stepping, light humiliation, strap-ons, sub xiao + minors don’t interact!

Check out part one for context, where you finger Xiao for the first time!

It had been a few days since you last slept with Xiao, but he couldn’t help but keep your words at the back of his mind. You weren’t the type of person to say something to make him nervous, but what were you insinuating with that?

He had assumed you would’ve explained it immediately, especially since he wasn’t that well versed in sexual matters, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. To his surprise, you simply laughed it off saying, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine!”

He wasn’t so sure if it was.

Before he could get caught in an endless spiral of confusion, the sound of knocking disturbed his train of thought.

Who was it now? Besides Verr Goldet or you, nobody dared come upstairs and disturb him in his home, and he was positive that he wasn’t needed for anything. With a huff, he got off his bed and opened the door.

“Xiao?” Ah. It was Verr Goldet. What did she want in the middle of the day? He scanned her expression for any signs of distress.

“Yes, is everything alright?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes, don’t worry,” She stated, waving off his concerns with her free hand.

“Your friend asked me to drop off this gift for you. What a sweetheart!” She mused, laughing to herself as she handed Xiao a simple white box, wrapped up in a small red bow at the top.

“Oh…” He replied, testing the weight in his hand mindlessly as he tried to gauge what the gift contained.

“You really should court them, Xiao, they’re perfect for you.” She continued.

“Court? What- why?” He sputtered out, caught off guard.

“They even leave you gifts! I know you’re fond of them. I’ve never heard you mention anyone ever during my entire time here, but once they came along…” She trailed off, recounting the various conversations they’d had, before meeting his eyes again.

“Look, you’re getting red right now!” She teased, watching Xiao grow embarrassed the more she spoke.

He seemed scary, but she knew deep down he was a good person, albeit a bit reserved and afraid of people. She truly wanted him to have company, and despite the teasing, she had meant well. Even so... Verr Goldet couldn’t give up the opportunity to make fun of Xiao a little.

“It’s not like that…But thank you for the box.” He said curtly, hiding his flustered face.

Verr smiled knowingly. “No problem, sorry for disturbing you.” She said politely, turning her heel as she headed back downstairs.

As the door closed, he took the box and sat down, sighing into his hands. You were meeting him for a date later tonight… so why had you left him a gift?

Feeling the solid weight lent him security as he smiled to himself. He could have never imagined receiving gifts from someone, or even going out with someone, going on a date, no less! There was a warmth in his chest, one that he found wormed its way into his heart the more he entangled himself with you. What was he to do...

With steady hands, he carefully undid the bow from the top of the package, treating it as if it was made of glass. When he lifted the cover, inside was… a note? It was adorned with a heart on the front, and xiao furrowed his eyebrows, curious. Why give him a note when you could just tell him something in person? Humans and their odd traditions… So strange, he thought.

He opened it with care, reading it carefully.

Hello Dear!

I know I’m going to see you tonight, but I want this to be special! I left you a little gift inside the box, and I want you to use this tonight, for me. I hope you’re excited because I also picked a new place to eat.

See you soon, love!

Your Favorite Human ♡

He huffed at your sloppy penmanship in fond exasperation, putting the note down.

As for the contents.. “something to wear?” He checked underneath the note in anticipation, expecting to see a perfume, or perhaps an ornament of some kind. Humans did love their odd little trinkets and knick-knacks, after all.

What he wasn’t expecting, was a very phallic-shaped sex toy. He took it out warily, comparing the size to his fingers, blushing slightly as he remembered where exactly your hands had been a few days prior….

It was obvious what this was. It laid against the length of his palm and was definitely bigger than a couple of fingers. You really….

Xiao sighed deeply. What exactly were you planning to do? Despite it all, he felt arousal bubbling deep in his stomach; He was undoubtedly excited.

“Archons...” He sighed again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Xiao, you made it!” you smiled widely as you waved him over, slightly standing up in your seat to make his presence known.

You’d decided to take him to the quaint restaurant that Zhongli had brought you to a few months prior. It was evening now, and you could hear the other patrons laughing over a few drinks and eating in a lively manner. The atmosphere was lovely, and the warm lights around you in the summer night did wonders for your mood, and you couldn’t help but smile too. You hoped Xiao would like the place you picked.

Giving you a curt nod in reply, Xiao walked over almost... Stilted. Like he was treading his steps carefully. Knowing darkness instantly made its way into your eyes as you watched him sit almost daintily in his seat like he was afraid to let his ass touch the chair. You lowered your voice.

“Did you put it in?” You said lowly.

“Yes! Not so loud!” Xiao flushed immediately, whispering harshly. In the end, he’d talked louder than you... He really needed to work on his whispering.

“Good.” You praised with a sly lilt to your voice.

Xiao looked down, embarrassed.

“Let’s eat!” You exclaimed, breaking the tension in the air as you lifted your hand to signal the waiter.

Xiao had no idea what you were planning, but something about that smug look on your face spelled danger… He sighed, rubbing his temples.

He’d been aiming to ignore it, but he could feel the butt plug rubbing him in all the right ways. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend it wasn’t there, but with every shift in his seat, it felt more and more present, more and more… pleasurable… Archons, he felt so uncomfortably full. He’d only had your fingers in him before, after all. This was way bigger! He was praying to every god possible that he wouldn’t get hard.

He glanced up at you again, taking in your cleaned-up look. Your hair was carefully styled for the date and your vision was adorned by your waist, giving you a dignified air. He admired how you conveyed yourself so well, as he watched you make small talk with the waiter. You looked so.. Wait. Was your vision glowing?

“Xiao, what would you like?” You said, snapping him out of it.

“I’m sorry?” He blinked.

“Your food, Xiao.” You whispered pointedly, motioning towards the menu.

“Oh, I’d like- Uhm!” He exclaimed nervously, trying to mask his sudden moan. He most definitely felt the toy vibrating.

Oh shit. The plug was completely pressed up against his prostate. He began to work up a sweat, shifting again to try to take the pressure off. It didn’t help! He could try not to think about it before as long as he didn’t move, but now it was moving on its own! What the-

Crap, he had to order!

“Uhm, I’ll uh…” He stuttered, looking around nervously. “I’ll have the same thing.. please.” He rasped out, completely embarrassed. Did you know what was going on?

You smiled apologetically, but it didn’t seem to reach your eyes. You looked too pleased to be sorry.

“I do apologize... He’s a bit tired today. Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course!” The waiter exclaimed, writing down your orders hastily as he rushed to the kitchen. Well, there were a lot of people here today... Xiao brought his attention back to you, as it seemed you were calling his name. Were you? He was a bit occupied at the moment, how was he supposed to pay attention to everything at once?!

“Is everything okay?” You said, smirking.

Obviously not! He clasped his hand over his mouth in realization, suddenly putting two and two together. The lit-up vision, the plug you had him wear…!

“You planned this…” He groaned, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment as he tried desperately not to grind back against the chair to get more stimulation. Did you have the plug made to resonate with your elemental magic? The sacrilege..

He could already feel his cock hardening, and the tension growing against the front of his pants was killing him. He should’ve picked a looser pair!

You rested your chin against your hand and tapped Xiao’s cheek with your other hand.

“Tell me if it’s too much. I trust that you’ll be good for me, speaking your mind counts as being good too.” You said, adoration and care evident in your eyes.

Xiao nodded quickly, aiming to get the attention off of him. He knew that you would stop if he was uncomfortable, you didn’t have to remind him every time! Still, he couldn’t help but admit it made him feel undoubtedly cared for, and he nearly melted into his seat. Ugh, these mushy human feelings were going to be the end of him.

“Now, let’s enjoy the rest of the night!” You said, grinning as you noticed the waiter coming back with steaming plates in both hands.

“That smells so good. I can’t wait...!” You exclaimed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“...I can’t wait!” Xiao whisper-shouted.

He grabbed your arms and lowered his head to rest on your shoulders. Midway through your meal, Xiao had dragged you towards the bathroom, trying to speak to you about his pressing concerns in private..!

“Please, I won’t.. I won’t last..” He whimpered out, desperately trying not to hump your leg when you hugged him back.

He felt like he was going crazy, he never thought he’d have such an issue keeping quiet, he was quiet all the time for crying out loud! But trying to maintain his composure like this? With him feeling like he was about to come in his pants in front of an entire restaurant at any second? That was impossible! He wasn’t trying to embarrass himself in front of all of Liyue..!

“Okay dear, let’s go home,” You said, kindly. “We can just ask them to package the food It didn’t look like you were feeling well anyway.”

You tousled his hair and he leaned into the affectionate touch, too worked up to worry about someone walking in on the public display of affection.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The minute you walked through the door of your simple style Liyue house, Xiao broke, desperately pushing you into the adjacent wall and whimpering as he ground his clothed cock against you.

“I can’t take this anymore! Take it out! ” He ordered, eyes rolling back as he found a pleasurable rhythm against your body... Archons he felt pathetic; why did that turn him on?

You tugged his hair back harshly, forcing him to bare his throat as you leaned down to leave hickeys down his neck. You felt him gulp against your soft lips as he trembled in your grasp, his hips bucking up the harder you pulled.

“If you want it so bad, beg for it,” You scolded. “And stop grinding against me like a dog.” You added, almost like a mean afterthought.

Xiao’s eyes clenched shut in humiliation. “Are you kidding me?”

“I said, beg.” You narrowed your eyes, gripping the strands at his roots harder. You loved the length of his hair, but this time you really learned to appreciate what long hair was good for.

Meanwhile, Xiao was beside himself in frustration. After all of that, you still wanted him to embarrass himself?

“But I did everything you asked!” He said with his eyes wide looking down at you, head still pushed up thanks to your harsh grip on his hair.

“Why can’t you just fuck me?!” He exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you?” You grinned, letting go of him and pushing him to the floor. Wait.. he didn’t mean to say that! Oh god, he’d really done it now.

You look down on him, grinding your foot into his crotch. He immediately let out a strangled moan. You stepped hard enough to bruise before letting up and moving back carefully.

“Looks like I’ve turned our vigilant yaksha into a real slut, hmm?” You mused.

“Wait here, take off your pants and get on your knees. If you move an inch I’ll punish you.” You ordered, walking past him to open a box you’d placed against the door behind him.

He kept his eyes trained to the wall, forced to listen to the rustling of… fabric? He heard you shuffling, one floor stepping on the floor then another. He kept looking ahead, but god if he wasn’t curious…

“Turn around.” You said, the anticipation audible in your voice.

Xiao shuffled a bit, restrained by moving using only his knees. When he looked up he was put face first with what looked like a dick way bigger than anything he’d taken before. It was bigger than his… Oh god. He gulped, watching you stroke the thick material as if you could actually feel it. That was so attractive...

“Is that gonna fit..?” He worried out loud, fiddling with his fingers.

“We’ll make it fit. You’re stretched enough from the gift I gave you, that’s what it’s was for, anyway.” You said confidently, completely sure of yourself.

“You still have the plug in, right?” Xiao gave an impatient nod.

“On your hands and knees, facing the wall.” You ordered.

Xiao immediately moved to comply without answering, shaking as his knees dug into the polished hardwood. He stared at the floor between his sweaty palms in anticipation. You moved to rub soothing circles into your back as you waited for him to take action. How humiliating… You didn’t have to watch him like this! He could feel your eyes burning into him as he leaned back, panting as his fingers wrapped around the base of the toy.

“You’re so pretty like this.. I want you to stroke yourself too” You commented, voice heady in arousal and spoken almost like a spectator.

The plug came out with an embarrassingly audible pop and if possible, Xiao curled in on himself even harder. He chucked it aside and sighed in relief, feeling weightless as he let his head flop down. His hands darted down to the ache between his legs and he groaned, head hitting the floor. If he looked hard enough he could see you behind him from between his legs.

He just wanted to look at you… He kept stroking, his face bunching up in pleasure. The cold of the floor against his forehead did little to soothe the fire in his stomach.

“I’m putting in, okay?” You murmured, rubbing the head along his hole, teasing him as you almost let it slide in. He flinched as you finally pushed it in, and although he had worn a plug in preparation…

“You’re so tight,” You said, almost in fascination.

“Stop saying tha- Oh god!”

You’d shoved the entire length in, your hips flush to his ass. He gasped, looking behind him in shock to see what you were doing.

You smiled, biting your lips as you started grinding the strap inside of him, not really moving forward or back.. Just maddeningly not letting him rest from the stimulation, pressing pleasurably again and again.

“It hurts..!” He whined, eyebrows turned upwards and eyes lidded heavily as he pushed back against your hips, despite his words.

You pulled out all the way… and rammed all the way back in.

“You’re fine.” You teased.

“Haaa!” He whimpered out, desperately looking upwards, face twisted in pleasure. God this was so much more intense than just the fingers! He could feel you in his throat, you were so deep.

You laughed, flipping your hair behind your neck, and started thrusting into him at a fast pace.

“...I didn’t say to stop stroking.” You grinned, slightly out of breath from the effort you were putting into pleasure him.

You were clearly enjoying the predicament you put him in. And hey, why stop when you were already ahead?

You slapped his ass harshly, and the thwack of your hand against his skin rang out loudly in the air.

“Soooorry!” He slurs out to your surprise, gripping himself and moaning distractedly. His legs nearly gave out, and he slumped lower.

You felt your chest brimming in satisfaction, you’d never gotten him this loud before. It was already a challenge to get him to stop covering his mouth, but this was a whole new level of lewd… you loved it. He was so obedient now, looks like you just had to fuck him stupid to get him to listen, huh?

You upped the ante, the muscles in your thighs burning with the effort as you fucked down into him, hard.

You panted, wrapping your hand around his middle and pressing your hand into his stomach to stabilize your position. A knowing grin crept its way onto your face when you realized you could feel the bump of your strap through his stomach with every thump of your hips.

“Can you feel that? Look how deep I am in you,” you said in a sultry tone, taking his hands off of his cock and moving them to his stomach.

He gasped, he could feel the strap as you fucked him, oh my god. He could feel it, and it felt so good! It was that big? You pushed his head to the floor roughly and lifted his hips to get a better angle.

“Oh my god, Oh fuck, Ohhh!” He whined loudly, the new position had you pistoning straight into his prostate over and over and over again. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he got so hot and bothered when you treated him like this.

His expression was completely debauched; he was literally sobbing into the floor, moaning with constant “ah!”s as you used the leverage to plunge yourself deeper. You were much more gentle last time! This fullness and pressure and pleasure and, and, and, oh god this felt so good, oh god this was too much!

“��Haaaa, please, I can’t take --- this!” He nearly screamed, voice catching as he hiccupped, nearly delirious.

“ Please, ‘m gonna come, please don’t stop! Please, please, please!” He chanted and begged like a mantra, ass moving back to meet your every thrust as he was speeding towards his high.

“Comin--g!” He yelped, eyes rolling back as he opened his mouth in a silent scream, drool slipping down the slope of his wet lips. You fucked him through his orgasm, whispering “So good for me,” as you pressed on top of him. His come spurts out all over the floor, adding to the mess you’d have to clean up later.

He immediately slumped down in exhaustion as you slipped out of his used hole, lube dribbling out and onto the hardwood. You laid down with him, being with each other in silence as you both took a minute to catch your breaths.

“Shhh… are you okay? Was that too much?” You worried, wiping the spit from his mouth with the back of your hand, and looked back up to meet his eyes.

Xiao exhaled wearily and looked up to give you a lustful smile. He caught your hand by his mouth and kissed it affectionately.

“I’m fine, that was really nice,” He sighed, satisfied.

“But you’re practically dripping… You must’ve liked that a lot.” He looked up at you through lidded eyes, lips quirking into a sly smile. He pushed you back against the wall, leaning between your legs. He looked so adorable beneath you, and looks like he’d grown a little bolder? Guess he was learning from you.

“Can I please… make you feel good?” He said, almost shyly even though he was already licking his lips, and eyeing you hungrily. What a juxtaposition that was.

“Of course, you don’t have to ask.” You laugh, before continuing.

“And how could I not be wet? You look so hot when I’m fucking you like that. I wish you’d let me take control more often… Especially when you beg me so nicely,” You smirked, thinking up a plan to embarrass him.

“Want me to imitate you?” You tease, poking his cheek.

Xiao bristles in anger.

“No thanks!”

You twist up your face in mock arousal and start mimicking him, going,

“Please please please, oh you fuck me so good master ooooooh~” You moaned out trying not to laugh, and looked down to the reddest face you have ever seen in your life.

“I did not say that, and I most definitely did not call you master!”

a/n . . . ahh hi! i hope this came out okay!!!!

this was kinda overkill but SUB XIAO SUPREMACY AM I RIGHT ahahah.... haha.... :’)

feel free to leave any criticism, requests, thirsts, or anything if you want! i dont bite, promise!! if u wanna share ur feelings about anything im ur guy >:)

#genshin impact smut #xiao genshin smut #sub xiao smut #sub xiao #xiao x reader #xiao smut #xiao fic #sub xiao fic #sub genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin sub smut #genshin dom reader #dom reader #weeyou works

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mochamamii · 3 years

Text

yandere!taeyong: no secrets.

▹ a/n : hello loves, I chose a really shitty title for this but whatever loll this is something I wrote in like a day, sometimes I write absolute filth for no reason, this is one of those times.

▹ triggers : yandere!au, detailed smut, unprotected sex + creampie, mirror sex, daddy kink but like not super heavy tho

▹ pairing : lee taeyong x chubbyfem!reader

▹ synopsis : keeping secrets from your yandere boyfriend probably isn’t the best idea...unlesss they’re lee taeyong (even then that’s risky bizness my friend.)

••

Taeyong sighed as he stared down at the text message on his phone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. He peered out the window of his car to glance across the street once more, staring at your apartment building.

He was parked across the street, his car parked far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to recognize his car from someone else’s.

Taeyong was immediately reminded of the lit cigarette he had in his other hand when the unflicked ash fell, slightly singeing the patch of skin on his leg where his ripped skinny jeans had left him exposed. He cursed under his breath, rolling the window down just enough to toss the still lit bud on the ground.

He was so distracted by you, more specifically, the blatant lie he had just caught you in that he completely forgot about his surroundings for a moment, causing him to let the cigarette burn almost entirely without ever flicking the ash.

You see, you and Taeyong have been dating for just a few months now. You were in that weird limbo stage where you were transitioning from casual dating to exclusivity. At least for you that’s how it was.

Taeyong had already moved past that stage months ago. He was serious about you, he was just being courteous by allowing you time to feel the same. But he was steadily growing impatient with you and all your sudden antics.

Things were going perfectly fine in the beginning. You were perfect, every bit of innocence and naivety that Taeyong wanted. You checked off all the boxes for him. And he didn’t need you to tell him that you felt the same way. Which is why it was pissing him off that you seemed to suddenly start pulling away from him slowly.

You’d begun acting strange. Avoiding him lately, whereas before you always obediently jumped at the chance to spend time with him. You also had refused to be intimate with him for a few weeks now, which wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. Taeyong was patient when it came to things like that and he was willing to go slow.

But in this instance Taeyong felt he had a right to be upset. Even in the few short months you’d been dating, Taeyong had managed to turn you into a full on nympho. Molding you into his perfect little sex kitten, ready to do whatever he wanted and whenever. What changed?

All of these things, amongst others, have led Taeyong to conclude that you obviously must be seeing another man. What else could it be? Things were going so well and then you suddenly changed up without any explanation.

And most recently Taeyong had caught you red handed in a lie.

He texted you earlier in the day to ask if he could come and see you. You replied back saying you had been at work. An obvious lie because Taeyong had been parked outside your house since last night, watching your front door to see if he could catch anyone coming in or out. He felt bad for stalking you, especially since he vowed to himself that he would try to be less invasive this time around.

He really liked you and didn’t want to scare you off.

So he left, giving up after nearly four hours of watching your house and not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He had only come back this afternoon in hopes that he might catch you on your lunch break. You worked nearby and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home during this time.

He got excited when he pulled up to see your car parked out front already, the need to see you face to face building inside him. He hadn’t seen you in nearly a week, you claimed you were swamped with work and that’s why you didn’t have much time to spend with him like you normally did. Taeyong could tell you were lying to him, he had to stop himself from marching up to your apartment right then and there confronting you about your lies.

But he wanted to be sure. He needed concrete proof that he was right about what had been going on with you.

So he texted you a second time, asking if you had decided to come home for lunch today. He had seen you upstairs in your bedroom window, moving around, he knew you were home. If you texted him back with a different response he could confirm you were lying to him.

Unsurprisingly enough, you replied back, saying you were still at work and would probably be working late tonight.

He scoffed as he reread your message. Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he peered up at your bedroom window, straining his eyes to try and see what you were doing exactly.

Taeyong stayed put in the car for a while, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. He wanted to just march up there to you but he didn’t know what he’d even say.

Quite frankly, Taeyong was a little embarrassed. He wished he didn’t feel so affected by you. If it were any other girl he’d have dropped them a long time ago, deciding they weren’t worth the trouble.

But this was you we were talking about...His precious baby girl, the girl who he was actively trying to change for. He had been pegged as the crazy, overbearing, sometimes even violent boyfriend by nearly all of his ex’s.

They weren’t wrong actually. Taeyong was all of those things. But he was trying to suppress that kind of behavior just for you. He wanted you to want him too, he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you into a relationship with him. Things were so different with you.

As angry and as hurt Taeyong was because of you lying to him, he still couldn’t bring himself to actually be angry with you. He was upset about the situation, but not at you. Honestly, once he saw you in person he wasn’t sure if he’d want to raise his voice and yell at you, or bury his head between your thick thighs.

God...it had been so long since he was inside you.

Only a week actually, but even that was too long for Taeyong.

Not wanting to sit and wrestle with his thoughts any longer Taeyong climbed out of the car. He jogged up the front steps to your door, trying to measure his breathing as he did so. He almost raised his hand to knock until he remembered you always kept a spare under a nearby potted plant.

He had to check under a few before he picked up the right one.

With your spare key now in hand, Taeyong could slip through the front door quietly. Even though during his stakeouts he never saw anyone go in or out of the house he still wondered if there was a chance you were being unfaithful. If not that, what else could it be?

Whatever it was, he was going to confront you about it today. No longer would he be left in the dark like this.

He unlocked the door, slipping in as quiet as a mouse. He pushed the door closed behind him, gently as not to alert you, wherever you were in the house. He kicked his shoes off at the door, knowing he’d be much quieter with sock clad feet instead of the heavy boots he had on previously.

Taeyong’s ears perked up as he heard you drop something on the floor upstairs. Considering the part of the ceiling he heard the noise from he guessed you were in the bathroom upstairs. Taeyong’s feet carried him up the stairs to your bedroom, the door was left open ajar already.

Carefully, he peeked through the crack to ensure you weren’t in the bedroom, even through the tiny space in the doorway Taeyong could see your figure standing in the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He pushed the door open enough to slip inside.

Taeyong stood under the arch of the doorway to your bathroom, watching you with curious eyes, your back was facing him so you were still unaware of his presence behind you, he could see you were struggling to open something.

Taeyong was about to speak up and announce himself to you until he took quick note of how your frustration turned to panic as you furiously twisted and pulled at the cap of…a pill bottle?

Now Taeyong was really curious.

With one last heave you released a large puff of air as the cap twisted off the bottle, Taeyong quickly sprung into action, taking two long strides across the expanse of the bedroom to get to where you stood in the bathroom.

He was too late though and you had already swallowed one of whatever those pills were.

“Taeyong?” You jumped, startled as Taeyong snatched one of your wrists to spin you around to face him.

Your cheeks turned red as you tried to inconspicuously hide your other hand that still held the bottle of pills behind your back.

“Give it.” Is all Taeyong said, his grip on your wrist tightening.

You shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, whenever Taeyong spoke in that demanding tone of his you’d always instantly obey and comply with whatever it was he wanted, not wanting to piss him off further.

But this time…this time you just couldn’t. You were too embarrassed, your hand felt frozen in place behind your back.

Growling, Taeyong spun you around and pushed you against the bathroom counter, pinning your arm behind your back as he retrieved the bottle of pills for himself.

You nearly toppled over because of his quick movements catching you so off guard. His firm hold on your arm pinned behind your back, catapulted you into the bathroom counter, your breasts plopping against the cool marble countertop.

Taeyong squinted his eyes to read the tiny print on the bottle, “What are these?” He asked, unfamiliar with the name of the pills.

You glanced up at him in the mirror, his jaw clenching as he tried to decipher what the long complicated name printed on the bottle meant.

It was as if you’d forgotten how to speak. Everything had happened so quickly and your mind was still taking a minute to process it all.

You had spent months trying to keep this one secret hidden from Taeyong. You went to any lengths possible if it meant protecting your secret. Even lying to him when necessary, which had become pretty frequent as of late.

All of it was catching up with you now.

Today would probably mark the end of your relationship, you were sure of it, there’s no way Taeyong would even be able to stomach the sight of you once he knows the truth. He’d probably think you were pathetic, too pathetic to be his girlfriend.

And you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as your tower of lies came crashing down around you.

Your head fell, hanging shamefully as you tried to ignore Taeyong’s burning gaze.

Taeyong was growing impatient with you, wanting answers and wanting them now. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, gripping your roots not so gently as he pulled your head back to force you to stare straight ahead, so you were looking directly at him in the mirror.

Your back arched instinctively as you stretched your body out to follow his hand, wincing slightly in pain as you did so.

“Tae…what are you doing here?-

You were cut off by Taeyong slamming his hips into your backside, pinning your own hips firmly against the counter as he trapped you under his weight. His hand in your hair moved to wrap around your throat from behind.

“I’m growing impatient with you Y/N. Tell me now and stop avoiding the question.” Taeyong said

“Tell me.”

Your eyes were slightly red, a little teary as you nervously glanced up at him once before parting your lips to speak.

Your eyes searched his black ones for approval, it’s like you were silently asking him without saying it,

Will you still want me after this?

Taeyong only softened temporarily as he took note of your reluctance, he used his free hand to rub small circles on your back to soothe you.

“T-They’re…appetite suppressants.” You answered shamefully.

Taeyong’s grip on you loosened as he listened.

“Appetite Suppressants?” He echoed, glancing down at the bottle and back at you.

Taeyong felt foolish and annoyed. You had been so secretive and sneaky lately, he was sure it was because you had another man in your life, not diet pills?

Taeyong screwed the cap of the bottle off with ease, dumping the rest of the pills down the toilet.

You had to swallow an audible groan. You had paid good money for those pills. They weren’t cheap over the counter pills, you had gone to your doctor to have them prescribe something stronger for you. Watching the pills be carelessly flushed down the toilet made you wince internally.

“You don’t need these. Stop taking them.” Taeyong demanded as he placed the empty bottle down on the counter.

“Understand?” He asked you, displeased with your lack of response.

“But…Taeyong. I need those.” You breathed softly, slowly raising up from the sink to turn around and face him.

“I need them Taeyong. I can’t just give them up, not yet, not till I’m-

“Why not?” He questioned.

Fat, ugly tears started to roll down your cheeks as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m still not perfect enough for you yet.” You whispered softly.

It was hard to say it out loud but it was true. You constantly felt like a tub of lard next to Taeyong. You didn’t want to feel that way anymore. You wanted to walk beside him with pride. You couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. Not with your current body.

Taeyong really didn’t like that you were fighting him on this. You were so naturally submissive, always going out of your way to avoid conflict with people especially Taeyong, he could say almost anything and you would listen and obey to whatever he wanted or expected from you.

Mostly because it was just in your nature to be more on the submissive side, but also because you felt like you were incredibly lucky to have someone like Taeyong, who were you to be making demands?

Even when there were times that you disagreed on something and wanted to vocalize your opinion, Taeyong would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how you just needed to let go and trust him.

Usually it worked too.

But Taeyong was in no mood to be that gentle with you, not that it would matter anyways. This is the one thing you know that you will always fight him on.

Your body.

Taeyong never entertained any conversations with you when it came to your weight and feeling insecure about your body. He waved them off as you being “silly” or something like that.

It wasn’t that Taeyong didn’t care. It’s just that he’s a yandere and has never known how to process any of his feelings in a relatively healthy way.

It’s easier for him to ignore the issue rather than confront it. He’s afraid he won’t know how to make you feel better. He doesn’t know how he can make you see the beauty that he sees.

“Don’t make me the reason that you’re desecrating your body this way.” Taeyong hissed, landing a harsh slap against your ass cheek for emphasis.

You yelped, already feeling the numb burning sensation spread across your afflicted skin.

Taeyong grabbed hold of your hair again, raising the top half of your body off the counter until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. He snaked one arm around your waist, locking you in place against him whilst the other remained tangled in your hair.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you followed his hand to escape the painful friction at your roots.

You fell into place so naturally against Taeyong, your bodies molding together so perfectly.

Taeyong loved the way your body was so soft and squishy, he loved your thick full curves, your deliciously plump body is what had initially attracted him to you.

How could you possibly think that something already so perfect needed to be changed?

Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, moving to nibble at your sensitive earlobe, “Darling. What’s it gonna take, hm?”

“What’s it gonna take to get you to stop obsessing over this?” Taeyong asked, his free hand beginning to roam your body.

“To stop…saying all these mean things about yourself?” Taeyong’s voice trailed as his hand slid down the length of your abdomen, his long slender fingers gliding across all of your rolls and stretch marks.

All you had on was an oversized t-shirt, Taeyong’s to be exact. One that he’d left over here before.

Seeing you in his clothes sent waves of electricity directly to the head of his cock, making him harden. He wanted you to wear his clothes all of the time, he wanted his smell to linger on your skin, letting everyone know you were his.

As much as he loved seeing you in his shirt he couldn’t wait to rip it off you.

Especially now with the way your hard nipples were poking through the thin cotton material, practically begging him to turn you around and assault them with his teeth and tongue.

He couldn’t wait.

He was going to do every dirty, lewd thing imaginable to you tonight. No part of your body would be left untouched once he was done.

He needed you to know that you’re beautiful. He had to show you just how in love with you and your body that he was. He didn’t know how to translate those feelings into words, just action.

Taeyong released his hold on your hair to be able to use both of his hands as he groped and fondled your body.

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his warm large hands through your shirt.

He kneaded them, moving to tug at your nipples through the fabric to make you mewl.

“Do you feel that baby?” Taeyong asked as he rolled his hips into your backside, his cock standing at full attention now, allowing you to easily feel his erection through his jeans.

“Do you see how badly I want you? Look at how hard I am and I’ve barely touched you.” Taeyong said , groaning as he rocked his hips against you once more. Loving the feeling of your round backside rubbing up against his cock. You were wet already and growing impatient with Taeyong’s teasing. Your clit throbbed painfully, desperately needing attention. You rutted your backside back against Taeyong, begging him to take you already.

Taeyong raised one of your legs up to rest on top of the counter, giving him perfect access to your pussy.

His shirt on you wasn’t long enough to cover the full expanse of your ass so as your leg raised up on the counter, your glistening folds were revealed to him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? After all you’ve done, all the sneaking around and the hiding? Do you really think I should give you any relief?” Taeyong teased as he used his fingers to slide up and down your slick slit, collecting your juices on his fingers.

“Please…” You begged with a pout, pushing back against him as you felt his fingers on you.

“Aht. Aht. No moving around or I’ll have to pin you against the counter like before.” He threatened as he stopped you from grinding your hips down against his fingers.

Feeling defeated you sighed, relaxing into his touch as you tried not to think about how badly you wanted to cum.

“Don’t look away from the mirror or I’ll stop.” Taeyong warned.

You nearly turned your head away momentarily to peek at what he was doing but decided against it at the last second.

Taeyong knelt down until he was level with your pussy. His warm breath fanned your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Taeyong’s soft wet tongue licked a single stripe along your slit, stopping at your clit to give it a single kiss before enclosing his soft lips around your bundle of nerves.

Your mouth dropped open as a moan fell past your lips.

Taeyong’s tongue worked quickly, alternating between lapping at your folds and sucking on your engorged clit.

You gripped the edge of the counter for support. You wanted to pull away from him when the pleasure became too intense but he smacked your ass whenever you moved so much as an inch away.

He released your clit from his mouth with an audible popping sound as he did so. Standing back up at his full height Taeyong took pleasure in seeing the way your eyes followed him in the mirror, eagerly waiting for his next move.

Taeyong unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock bouncing up and slapping his abdomen as he released it from the confines of his briefs. A bead of precum was leaking from his head. Taeyong teased you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.

“Do you want to come? Wanna come as I pound this perfect pussy of yours with my cock? I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been a bad kitten lately haven’t you? Sneaking around, hiding things from me, saying awful things about yourself, and making me worry…” Taeyong said, resting his chin against your shoulder as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, grinding your ass back against him.

“Are you really though?” Taeyong asked, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You whined, growing desperate for release.

“Are you ever going to do something like this again, kitten?” He asked, slipping his hands under your shirt to roll your nipples in between his fingers.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Taeyong smirked, loving the sound of desperation in your voice.

“Do you promise? Tell daddy you promise to never do this again and he’ll give you what you want okay?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice before you were repeating over and over like a mantra, “I promise I’ll never do it again, daddy.” You fluttered your lashes at him in the mirror, hoping he’d sense your sincerity.

That was all Taeyong needed to see before backing up and sinking his cock deep into your pussy.

He groaned as your walls hungrily sucked him in, greedily accepting every inch of him.

You arched your back, raising your ass even higher in the air for him.

Taeyong was relentless in how he fucked you. His nails painfully dug into the flesh on your soft hips as he held onto them for support whilst he pounded you from behind.

“Do you hear how wet you are? This pussy is practically milking my cock.” Taeyong moaned, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

He was right. You were so wet, the obscene squelching noises your pussy was making around his cock bounced off the four walls of the bathroom.

“Taeyong…” You moaned.

He moved one hand off your hip to rest against your hand that was lying on the counter, he grabbed your hand to lace your fingers together.

“That’s right baby. Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my cock…such a good girl for me, my beautiful good girl.”

You could’ve come right then and there just because of how dirty the words coming from Taeyong’s mouth were.

You felt warm and happy as he praised you, calling you a good girl for taking him so well.

Taeyong continued drilling into you, never losing the rhythm he had set or the speed he was going at. He kept repeating in your ear over and over how pretty you looked and how beautiful you were.

Usually compliments like that went in one ear and out the other, you never liked to dwell on them for long because you just didn’t believe them.

But now…right here, right now. Watching yourself in the mirror as Taeyong fucked you, the faces you were making, and the way your body instinctively rolled and grinded back against him.

Even you couldn’t deny the beauty of the scene before you.

You could see him in the mirror, watching as his hands gripped and groped at your flesh, his desire and want for you evident on his face, evident in the manner at which he was thrusting deep inside you as if his life depended on it.

Thrusting with a desperation that matched yours, you needed this, to feel him inside of you, filling and stretching your walls with a subtle sweet pain.

“Taeyong, I’m gonna come.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around him.

The essence of your shared arousal started to drip down your thigh.

“Then come for me.” Taeyong answered, reaching his hand around your waist to rub your clit, propelling you further into your state of euphoria.

You rocked your hips back against him, chasing after your own orgasm.

You moved to throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder but Taeyong was quick to push your head forward, reminding you with a slap on your ass to not look away from the mirror.

“I want you to watch as you come on my cock.” Taeyong growled, determination clear in his voice as he unsheathed his cock completely from your warmth only to slam his hips back into yours.

You squealed as Taeyong angled his thrusts upward to hit your g-spot. Your eyes welled with tears, and your hand gripped the edge of the counter as you braced yourself.

It only took Taeyong a few more strokes before you were clenching around him uncontrollably, your pussy creaming on his cock. You collapsed on the counter, too tired to hold yourself up anymore. You winced a little as Taeyong continued to drill into you, the pleasure turning into a slight burn as he overstimulated you.

You wiggled your hips, trying to bring your hiked up leg down from the counter whilst also inching away from Taeyong’s thrusts.

“Stay still.” Taeyong grunted, pinching your outer thigh.

Taeyong abused your poor cunt until he was ready to fill you with his seed. He made sure he was stuffed deep inside of you when he painted your walls with his cum.

Once the two of you had caught a minute to catch your breath, Taeyong carefully pulled out of you, making a mess between your thighs as he did so. Your empty pussy was now clenching on air, inadvertently pushing Taeyong’s cum out of your hole causing it to run down your inner thighs.

Taeyong leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you came down from your high.

Finally, Taeyong pushed himself off of you to allow you to rise up from the counter. He turned you around to face him so he could properly kiss you on the lips.

“Wait, where are you going?” Taeyong asked as you kissed him before untangling your limbs from his.

“To shower?” You answered, one hand already on the nozzle of the tap to turn the shower on.

You were a sweaty, sticky mess, in desperate need of a nice long shower.

Taeyong smirked, pulling you back into his chest, “We’re still not done here.”

Your face must’ve said it all because before you got the chance to whine about being tired Taeyong was already pressing you up against the wall.

“Spread your legs again. Nice and wide for me...Daddy’s going to make sure you get all clean again…”

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