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thesunisatangerine · 5 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting.

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes.

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been.

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so.

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead.

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection.

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation.

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you.

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other.

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause.

“I think I should go.”

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door.

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?”

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.”

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.”

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?”

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected.

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours. “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?”

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest.

“Yes.”

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.”

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?”

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?”

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent.

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back.

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed.

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway.

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased.

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish.

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?”

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.”

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over.

��She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.”

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever.

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives.

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.”

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?”

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry.

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh.

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips.

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped.

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy.

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n:#this was meant to be longer but i decided to split it into (or else this wouldve been like 10k long or something lol)#sorry for not updating last week id been in pain for the last 2 weeks so it was hard to concentrate #not to mention i got hit by a writer's block so i needed to just take a step back lol #anyway i just need to tie up some loose ends in the next part and then against all odds will be finished in two weeks time 🥲#also i apologise for any style inconsistency #i may or may not have been rereading frankenstein while going through some parts of this lol #will fix any grammar/spelling/prose mistakes later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 1 month

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okay so i finally finished it... allow me to present a comprehensive, chronological compilation of miles and alex singing *THAT* moment in standing next to me for the whole eycte tour 🌟

this video took me the better part of two months to make, and cost me a not insignificant part of my sanity (related: i may never want to hear this song again), so yeah... i hope you enjoy 😅

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gncrezan · 2 years

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testing out how different the pen pressure is on the new laptop w/ @asphodelgame <3

#yes its time i apologise to the pagans again!!! sorry everyone #my art #persephone #hermes #fields of asphodel #asphodelgame #foa #using the tablet on a new laptop is crazy my tablet has never responded like this . i wanna practice LOL #somehow i was surprised that using a laptop that was 7yrs old and screamed every time it opened photoshop didnt perform well .#but i am also here. testing this all out . and im always constantly in a foa mood cause i got attached to seph after a character study #so here i am <3 i think rezan next . or D and X cause what i've seen from the update i just adored how annoying they are #i also need to draw stuff for wts cause i had it all sketched on my old laptop....#also done very quickly so excuse the mistakes on this im just having the time of my life getting my tablet to RESPOND!!!!#i also need to draw live cthonic reaction cause the idea of people around seph n hermes being like ohhhh okay. they dont know anything #**chthonic SORRY i cannot spell or think rn #ive sketched live pyri reaction before anyway i think we should get the whole gang into it #is just so funny . TO ME ONLY MAYBE . but its so funny #ive also been meaning to draw all the foa cast as quick busts cause i need to beat sameface off with a stick but just havent gotten around..#ok enough of the tag wall . thakn u for coming to the ted talk

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mental-jhinstability · 1 year

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JhinThresh server encourages my High Noon obsession, more at noon

Another ramble by a gay cowboy, about gay cowboys, for my gay (cowboys in spirit) friends.

Some NSFW, nothing directly explicit but there's some level of detail. OOC as always but I've been informed I'm based so... hopefully it's based this time, too?

This specifically is about them being drunk. To start, I headcanon Jhin as an emotional drunk (imagine him getting all emotional about his horse loving him too and practically crying in front of a probably sober Thresh who finds this adorable and jealousy-inducing, because Jhin should giving HIM all that attention) and Thresh as a more relaxed drunk--as in he gets a little more loose-lipped. This will also involve my bartender High Noon Jax, because why shouldn't it. We all know these idiots cannot do anything about their feelings without being beaten over the head with a lamp.

More of another "things I wanna write but probably won't" than a headcanon ramble, but whatever. Jhin comes in to the bar, and Jax already has his first drink (of four) ready by the time he's even at the bar. And, of course, being the weirdo bartender; Jax is already asking him if he's asked out Thresh yet. Giving advice, teasing him. Jhin doesn't respond much, just finishes his drinks and gets out as quick as possible. But now there's an issue; he's a bit drunk and now he has Thresh on his mind. Given that I said he's a more emotional drunk earlier, this is a much bigger issue than he thinks it is. He just heads to the barn, because really what else is there to do when you're a drunk cowboy (aside from fucking and/or killing)?

Thresh is there. He watches as Jhin cries over his horse, talks to it. He's jealous for a few minutes. The horse is getting all this attention, and not him? And then Jhin asks his horse what he should do about his “weird feelings” for a certain man. He doesn't mention Thresh's name, but now Thresh is even MORE jealous. Who's this other guy stealing his victim slash weird crush? Unforgivable. I haven't really imagined much past this, and I'm no good with smut, but Thresh probably gets a little drunk himself, reveals himself to Jhin, who is now cagey and cold to Thresh due to not wanting to admit the guy he loves was him, and then Thresh fucks him because he's jealous. Maybe involving a riding crop. And Thresh's chain/rope/thing. And possible admission of feelings. Who knows.

And a second part… flirting. Their flirting is really weird, because they don’t. They just do a LOT of homoerotic touches and things for each other. Both of them realise this, but neither rationalise it correctly and think the other doesn’t think it’s homoerotic. They think they’re enemies/rivals/begrudging friends, despite both of them feeling attached to the other. I went over the physical homoerotic touch aspects in both of my previous rambles, but I guess I’ll go for other ways here.

Thresh tends to braid Jhin’s horse’s hair the same way he always does it. He doesn’t do a particularly good job and Jhin always scolds him and says “that’s not how you do it, you fool” etc etc until he’s giving Thresh a lecture on how to braid hair. This goes on until Jhin ends up just grabbing Thresh’s hands and “guiding him” (aka just doing the whole thing for him) through it. Thresh knows full well how to braid hair after the first time; but he continues to do it just so he has Jhin’s full attention. As I’ve mentioned he cannot rationalise this in a normal way (“This is torture because I’m taking his time and energy away from more important things, to make him easier to break”) and neither can Jhin. He likes teaching Thresh but he’s not sure why (it’s because he likes feeling in control, as well as the feeling of having Thresh as a captive audience) and instead chooses to think it’s just because he likes being correct. It’s flirting, just nonverbally.

On the same note, Jhin tends to make an effort to argue with Thresh over things. Anything, regardless of how monotonous or how pointless the argument is. He likes getting an anger reaction out of Thresh. He finds it hot (which he mistakes for just being an adrenaline addict; they’re not all buddy-buddy so he figures it’s only natural to get worked up by your enemy/rival getting angry at you). He gets genuinely upset when Thresh doesn’t react or argue back or even concede. He wants something other than constant teasing or silence, and when he doesn’t get that something, he gets a bit fussy and usually ends up touching Thresh in some way to rile him up. Sexually or non-sexually, it doesn’t matter. It gets a reaction and he gets to touch Thresh, so it’s a win-win.

If we combine the two, drunk flirting. Jhin gets emotional, so with enough provoking from Thresh usually you can get a flirty comment—albeit vague and a bit unorthodox—from him. He still tries to maintain a mask of indifference or hatred towards him when drunk but he falls on his face and ends up letting a few things, whether they be emotions or words, slip. Thresh, being loose-lipped, is usually the one to end up very explicitly flirting with Jhin when drunk. Compliments his body, calls him cute and pathetic, says he wants to hear him scream. He, of course, has some level of plausible deniability with these comments when sober, but when drunk he doesn’t tend to defend himself. He never admits it’s flirting, but he’ll not say no. Oh also they both get horny when drunk so if they’re later in to their homoerotic rivalry they probably fuck. Up to you.

Also… please read the tags of this post. There’s a few little related side tangents in there, if you’re interested.

#jhinthresh #i feel like they also flirt thru doing things for eachother without saying anything #jhin cleaning thresh's stuff. thresh making sure jhin's riding helmet is somewhere very visible (usually on the floor just to piss him off)#just to serve as a little reminder to be safe. though i mentioned how he rationalises that last ramble post #he's worried about his little bf </3 #i have no idea how alcohol works if you can't tell. i have gotten tipsy about once and i've been able to drink for... how many years now #well over a decade #just not in to it. so if anyone who Does drink alcohol wants to correct something please do #i'd also like to apologise for any spelling errors/weird mistakes i didn't catch #i nearly died today so i'm a little shaken LOL #anyway shoutout to jamie (can i call you that) for encouraging the High Noon Virus #he was the one who got me in to jhinthresh albeit indirectly so to me he's a bit like a celebrity #well. all of you are kinda like that to me. you are so cool #but every time someone says they like my little headcanon rambles it's like !!!!!?????!!!#so thanks y'all <3

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dangerliesbeforeyou · 11 months

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i kinda hate the current culture around how a lot of left leaning people online will say to influencers or celebs who 'get cancelled' (saying something bigoted for example) that the only REAL way they can make amends is by paying money to a charity dedicated to the community that they hurt with their words

and the reason i hate it is because it kinda denies the person any means to take real accountability for their past actions... people saying that an apology is only worthy if you 'put your money where your mouth is' ignores that a) someone can donate to a charity and not actually give a shit about it (ESPECIALLY if they're wealthy!) and b) that that isn't the only, or even the best (imo), way to express support for a community! showing solidarity with the community, taking accountability for your own actions and admitting fault (not making excuses etc), fighting against the groups of people trying to harm minorities, etcetc... there are plenty of ways to prove that you have grown without having to throw a whole load of money at the issue imo

yes, donating to charities is an important thing and if an influencer has done bigoted things in the past and they want to make up for that by donating i think that is a good thing, but i don't want this to become the 'expected' course of action for people that say bigoted stuff because to ME it is giving them a kind of pass and now letting them actually grow or show that they have changed!

idk... this just kinda bugs me that so many left leaning people push this without really acknowledging that donating to charity isn't some magical fix-all that makes people reflect on their past actions and is actually mostly just a way that wealthy people with bigoted views can show face...

#also could go into how kinda classist this view is...#just feels a lil too christianity that you can only make amends if you have money u know??#idkidk...#btw just incase someone misinterprets this: i do think that donating to charity is a GOOD thing #but i just dont tihnk it should be the ONLY thing that people who are trying to apologise for past mistakes should do to make amends #and it's esp weird to me that online leftists who spend all day claiming to be socialist or communist #then spread this idea that you need to give away money in order for them to forgive you??? idkidk...#to me 'actions speak louder than words' means actual actions and not just the action of typing your card details online lol

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obstinatecondolement · 1 year

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Trying not to be a weirdo conspiracy theorist with a persecution complex about this, but I am getting the impression that the co-worker who has been chilly with me lately has asked not work with me as much as is possible/my manager is trying not to roster us together as much as is possible because the co-worker complained about me.

#the manager said something like #that she'd had to put out a few fires #and that it was 'fine bc everyone had different personalities' which was 'normal'#and it was great that we 'all brought different things to the team'#when I apologised for not being entirely with it the day after I'd had a really bad brain-day #that started with me being late and making about five mistakes (one of which with difficult to manage consequences)#within a half hour of being there #and like... that comment makes me think that my co-worker has been complaining about me #and this week's roster makes me think the manager is trying to have us together as little as possible #which like... seems like a bad sign #since my co-worker is the supervisor and I do not have a permanent contract #also... my manager gave me a copy of the company's bullying policy to read???#and said that it was just a box ticking exercise we were all doing #but I am really really fucking worried that I'm getting darvo'd here #ugh #and like... I literally do not know why she hates me now #when she was so positive towards me when I first started here #she had to cover me when I was sick (which did involve her coming in on a day she had booked as annual leave)#but she said that it was no big deal when I thanked her for it #and that it was six of one and half a dozen of another when she took the day off #and we all had to pull together etc. etc.#so like... I don't know what's going on here??#literally one day she just flipped a switch and started being so critical and severe that I was worried I would cry on the shop floor #every day I worked with her from there on out #I understand being frustrated by me not knowing things or making mistakes #but a) I've actually picked up a lot of things very quickly #(and much quicker than many people would because I have great retail skills and excellent preexisting craft knowledge)#and b) even if I was constantly fucking up and was a liability more than a help... I am still entitled to basic respect in the workplace??#and honestly maybe I am blowing this all out of proportion #and imagining things that are not in fact happening

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realjoehours · 8 months

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ya boy just finished reading wolf island so now i’m going to talk about that because that sure was an experience (prepare for all over the place rambling)

kicking it back into our main man Grubbs’ point of view after spending a book with Bec and the book starts out pretty slow. it’s establishing things we already know and things we’ve already read from Bec’s perspective. it’s only after Grubbs, Shark and Meera part from the rest of the group that things start to actually pick up and become interesting.

this book isn’t as demon focused as the previous few have been and is much more werewolf centric but i guessed it would be from the name and also because that was the established quest for team Grubbs in Death’s Shadow. the only demons we really get in this book is the demon that Beranabus, Kernel and Grubbs were beating up at the start of the book while in the universe of the demonata and then i guess Juni, if you want to count her as a demon because she definitely isn’t a human anymore anyway.

it’s always a pleasure to have Meera around in the books and prior to going into this book the only experience i really had with Shark that notably stands out to me is all the way back in Demon Thief when he shows up with a young Dervish. outside of that notable experience he really hasn’t featured a whole lot outside of serving as a commander in Demon Apocalypse and then of course coming to Dervish’s mansion after the Lambs attack and after Dervish has his heart attack. because he hadn’t really featured much i didn’t really see a reason to be attached to the man but after spending most of a book with the guy and seeing him interact with the others i can confirm i’m now attached. he’s a cool guy and i hope there’s more of him soon (hopefully his recovery is smooth).

i absolutely loved the character dynamics between the characters in this book you can really tell that they care for each other. i absolutely adored Grubbs and Kernel’s reactions at the beginning of the book to Meera and Shark showing up in the demonata universe. i thought that with the shift in Grubbs’ character in the latter half of the book when he lets the wolf free that the dynamics wouldn’t be the same and yes they’ve changed but not a whole lot. sure Meera was hesitant and perhaps terrified at first she soon lapses back to a kind of normality with Grubbs before she parts ways with him in the last few chapters to help stop a crossing elsewhere.

speaking of Grubbs’ transformation, good for him. good on him finally being able to find himself in his own body and find a balance between him, the beast within him and the kah-gash. he no longer has to fight himself. it took me way longer than it should’ve to realise that the half man half wolf amalgamation depicted on the cover of the book was Grubbs (i only realised when i had to put the book down when Dervish talks about how he wants to be the one to choose when he dies and how he wants to do it on his turf (earth)). his new form and brand new abilities that come with it give him his own unique attributes that set him apart from the other members of the kah-gash as prior to this Grubbs didn’t have one. Bec has her memory soaking abilities, Kernel has his light panel seeing abilities and now Grubbs has his wolfen form and the heightened senses, speed and strength that come with it.

speaking of Kernel i think they’re just going with he’s dead, or at least Bec is convinced he is. but i mean i doubt Darren Shan would just kill off a member of the kah-gash with seemingly no reason to and even if Kernel were to die that’d be a big deal and it wouldn’t really be brushed off as a lesser death, he’s a piece of an ultra powerful world shattering universe erasing weapon god dammit. for now his disappearance remains a mystery and i can only hope that Dark Calling explains what the hell happened to him while he was guarding the window in Death’s Shadow, why he disappeared and where he’s been. and one can also hope that it’ll be from Kernel’s perspective too, he deserves another book from his perspective.

in terms of deaths this book there was a lot. all of the soldiers that were part of Shark’s dirty dozen (a reference that is lost on me) unfortunately didn’t survive the mission to Wolf Island but i wasn’t very attached to any of them so it was okay. sure i felt sorry for them as they were ripped to shreds by werewolves (and gun fire) but as Grubbs puts it in the book when Shark only introduces most of them by first name that it’s better that way because when it comes down to survival and loosing them it won’t hurt as much because it’s not as if he knew them beyond that name. and then of course there was all of the werewolves that were blown up when Timas set off those several bombs and the dominant wolf of the werewolf pack that Grubbs kills too. there’s also the massacre of all of the lamb soldiers and technicians within the compound. and finally probably the best death of the book Antoine Horowitz. Antoine was the brand new ceo of the Lambs who was incredibly insistent that he accompany Shark’s dirty dozen to Wolf Island to find and get answers from Prae Athim, former ceo who has supposedly went rogue and took all these werewolves to this island. and in a twist i didn’t see coming Prae Athim isn’t the big bad that i was expecting her to be it’s actually Antoine who we all should’ve been looking out for as he brings out his rosary when they reach the island and spends a long while doing what was thought to be just him saying prayers but was instead him opening a window of which Juni enters through (her coming directing from the cruise liner that the others are on). in retrospect it makes a lot of sense why he was so insistent that he went with the others to Wolf Island because if he hadn’t then who would’ve summoned Juni? anyways he gets ripped apart by werewolves.

somebody who didn’t die in this book that i fully expected to die was Prae. with the whole quest against her and all i thought she was going to be a goner for sure, even more so when she and Timas hang back to hold of the approaching werewolves to protect Grubbs and Meera. but she doesn’t die after all! and is now resuming her role as ceo of the Lambs but after everything she saw on that day, because yes everything that happens on Wolf Island is one day, she’s going to change Lambs for the better and go back to their original mission. they’ll still be looking for a cure but their main mission is to help the kids in the Grady Clan who’ve turned. no more killing, no more werewolf breeding, no more experimenting, no more being kept like caged animals and no more lies. instead of killing the kids that are afflicted they’ll instead be brought to Wolf Island where they can live free as part of the pack. Prae is has a long way to come in improving herself after all of the things she has done while in the Lambs but this new promise is a start to bettering the organisation and her brush with death has seemed to have awakened something in her to do better.

somebody else i feared would die this book was Dervish. his heart is in such horrible shape i was half convinced that he’d die at sea on that life boat with Bec and Kirilli, becoming their next meal. and with the chapter that Grubbs finally sees him in again being called “This Is The End, Beautiful Friend” i really thought he was a goner but no Shan’s just toying with my emotions again. he doesn’t have much time left though and he’s not got much fight in him either. i hope that if he does die though that he gets to go out quick and painlessly. and i hope that Grubbs and Bec are by his side because the last thing i want to read about his him dying alone.

also we get a Kirilli come back in the same chapter and he’s wooing the nurses of his tales of heroism on the ship and how he fought so many zombies and he’s talking about his missing fingers too. he’s such a loser oh my god. and when the window in the city opens like Meera was told it would Dervish literally gets out of his death bed to go and fight while Kirilli is in the corner throwing up. he’s a lover not a fighter. he goes anyway because otherwise the nurses will know that he was lying about his heroism and he just plays off his cowardice as him just needing his torn to pieces coat so he can look cool while kicking demon butt. never change Kirilli never change.

oh! how could i forget of the new character and very important character introduced in the beginning of this book! i’ve literally mentioned him in this post several times before too lol. anyways on to Timas! Timas is this very tall man and close link to Shark who’s a genius when it comes to computers and technology being able to track down anybody or anything to its original sources. if he hadn’t came in and located the nearest Lambs building and then located Wolf Island Grubbs, Shark and Meera would probably still be sitting in their hotel rooms trying to figure out what their next move will be. he’s described as an oddball throughout the book and yea sure he may be weird to an outsider but personally i think this man definitely has autism with a hyper fixation on technology, very blunt in a lot of responses and also doesn’t outwardly express emotions the same as the rest of the cast which makes him come across as just being calm and unfazed due to him typically just having a resting grin on his face. i think Timas is very cool. i’m glad he didn’t die in this book because if he died at any point the whole team would’ve no doubt been goners because, not to discredit those who died and made massive sacrifices for Grubbs and Meera to survive, but Timas’ brains saved the group from death on several occasions. he parts ways with Grubbs and Meera when they reach land to be there for Shark when he wakes up after surgery in hospital which hopefully means that he’ll appear again in either the next book or in Hell’s Heroes because i could see him being a very useful asset in the fight against Death. sure he isn’t a mage or magically inclined in any way whatsoever but he is incredible when it comes to technology, researching and recalling the things he’s researched as well as being very intelligent too. and in a fight against Death you’ll take whatever help you can get, that’s why Kirilli is on the team after all.

also before i talk about Shark and his injuries that i mentioned above i want to mention a funny observation that i’ve made regarding Dervish, Meera and Shark in Death’s Shadow and Wolf Island. all three of them have used the expression “remind me to give you a big kiss after this” (of course worded slightly differently depending on who’s saying it). Dervish says it too Meera when they’re in the secret room in the wine cellar after the werewolf attacks in Death’s Shadow (or it’s Meera who says it and Dervish just agrees i can’t remember) and then both Shark and Meera say it to Timas in this book after he makes some life saving observation and plan for the team (i don’t remember which one). i thought that when the line was used in this book that it would be dismissed as a one off thing like it is in Death’s Shadow, because i mean Dervish then collapses of a heart attack a few moments later, but it actually isn’t! and Timas brings it up when him and Prae are staying behind to hold off the werewolves so that Grubbs and Meera can escape and live as he apologises to Meera that he wouldn’t be able to receive that kiss that she had promised him as he’d be dead to which Meera jokes that she lied and wouldn’t kiss him which makes Timas actually sad until she tells him she’s joking, Meera don’t be mean to my man >:(. that isn’t even the end of this bits as it’s brought up by Timas again when he parts ways with Meera and Grubbs as he says about the promise that Meera made, which she’s forgotten about because of all of the commotion. and i’m just going to pull this straight from the book because i just thought it was the funniest thing ever:

…“I know,” he says, then turns to Meera “Time to make good on that promise.” “What promise?” Meera squints. Timas grabs her and bends her backwards, supporting her with one arm. “A kiss for your sweet prince,” he murmurs, smooching up to her. Meera pretends to struggle, but then grins and treats him to a kiss that’s even hotter than Shark’s curses.

and like while that’s happening Grubbs is just kind of standing there waiting for them to be done with it. another funny bit that has nothing to do with the previously mentioned bit is when Grubbs confronts Antoine and he asks Grubbs what had happened to him (referring to his new wolfen form) and Grubbs just replies with “Teenage Angst”. that was funny to me.

anyway onto Shark he’s ambushed by one of the werewolves while the group is fleeing from the cave and he stays behind fighting off to werewolves which allows for the team to make for the cliff side to escape (they don’t end up doing so). Shark is then absent until the later chapters of the book as everyone presumes that he’s dead and he sacrificed himself for them dying in action like a true hero. but no Shark isn’t killed that easily and he lives! he’s able to compose himself enough after the fight to drag his very wounded self back to the facility where he’s then able to lower an escape boat and climb down the rope ladder to escape boat where he simply lay while Grubbs and the werewolves massacre the Lambs, Grubbs fights Juni and hears her vision (i’ll elaborate on that in my last bit), them discovering about what happened with the others on the cruise ship, the werewolves murdering Antoine and Prae vowing to be a better person and to completely change the Lambs. good thing Grubbs, Meera and Timas found him when they did because Shark really wasn’t in good shape down there as Timas goes point out that his innards are poking out of a wound on his back. thankfully there’s an ambulance that rushes him to hospital when they reach land because god knows he needs it. i can only assume that this isn’t the last time we’ll see the battle hungry Shark in these books and fingers crossed he recovers in time for the end of the world…

speaking of the end of the world did you know that Grubbs is going to be the cause of it? apparently so! or at least according to the vision that Juni had during her battle against Grubbs in the compound. that’s the only reason why Grubbs survived the battle too because if Juni hadn’t had that vision when she did he’d be dead. Grubbs is part of the kah-gash which is a weapon that can hypothetically be used to destroy not just worlds but universes but Juni didn’t say the kah-gash she never even mentioned Bec or Kernel in this vision it was just Grubbs. which is really strange. what’s also strange is that the kah-gash has seemingly only been talking to Grubbs also as i don’t remember it ever speaking to Bec during Death’s Shadow and i can’t speak for Kernel because he hasn’t had a point of view since his introductory book Demon Thief when the concept of the kah-gash being a thing that exists was introduced. also Grubbs is back to withholding information that seems like it would be extremely beneficial to tell the other disciples, but then again if i was told that i was going to be the reason the world ends i’d struggle to word that to somebody else too.

despite the lack of Kirilli in this book it was an amazing read (i’m joking even if there was no Kirilli it’s still an amazing read) and i loved the character development that Grubbs is going through in this book as he embraces his “true self” and becomes a more confident leader. and everybody better get ready because the end is near and Death doesn’t wait for anybody… or well i guess he can wait one more book so we can figure out where Kernel went to.

#oof this post is a long one #i think i covered all of my thoughts of the book in here and if i missed something oops #also a major spoiler warning for the entire book because i basically talk about every single major (and some minor) things that happen #i haven’t spell checked or anything so i apologise if there’s any atrocious spelling or grammar mistakes in this long post #the demonata #joe soup speaks

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alishasnoidea · 11 months

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i've said this once and i'll say it again,

it's not the mistakes you make that define you, but rather how you react to them

#been seeing some questionable takes #i can't believe what i'm saying is considered controversial #but yeah #i think when someone makes a mistake/does something really stupid and takes genuine effort to learn from it and does better and be better-#they definitely deserve to be forgiven!#yes this also includes certain bigotry #like for example) someone could be incredibly homophobic and then realise that what they're doing is wrong #and then take the effort to educate themselves and do better in terms of supporting the community and apologise for what they've done #and like....i'd forgive them #because that's what's important #that you become better #that's what we want right?#like i don't most of us would be able to survive if we were all defined by the crap that we've done when we've gotten better

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lesbian-in-leather · 1 year

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mary x anyone you like for that ship thing!

Oooh let's do Mary x Charles Blake because we were robbed

First of all I'm just a sucker for enemies to lovers, and their dynamic was written so well—it really made sense that they hated each other at the start, but their reconciliation felt so sincere and natural and I would have loved to see it develop into something more

They made an excellent team (as demonstrated with the pigs) and could have easily worked together to help Downton thrive for the next generation while still bringing it into the modern era as Blake wanted

They genuinely made each other happy. They enjoyed one another's company and it was so cute to see them together; completely ignoring their station to make themselves food, sitting together talking and laughing and ignoring the countless social rules they were breaking. Mary deserved genuine joy after Matthew and Charles was a perfect match ♡

Send me a ship and I’ll tell you three things I like about it!

#the lesbian herself #downton not downtown smh #thanks for the ask!!!!!#also i'm writing these on mobile so i apologise for any and all spelling mistakes #i refuse to have predictive text on

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little-writers-posts · 19 days

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Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)

Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.

Word Count: 1.957

“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.

“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.

“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.

“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.

It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.

As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.

Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.

It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.

“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.

“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”

“I would like that,” he smiled.

He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.

Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.

“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.

“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.

We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.

Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.

Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.

“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.

“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.

At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.

“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.

I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.

“Prep me up?” I mumbled.

Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.

“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.

“Francis…” I whimpered.

He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.

I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.

I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.

When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.

I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.

When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.

The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.

“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.

I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.

The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.

“I’m cuming,” I begged.

“Wait for me,” Francis urged.

He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.

“Francis, please” I begged again.

“Almost there” he grunted.

I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.

I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.

“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.

I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.

At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.

Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.

“I love you” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.

He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.

“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.

“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”

“Just some water, please”.

I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.

The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.

Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.

#milkman #milkman x reader #francis mosses x you #francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #francis #x reader #reader #x you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger francis mosses #doppelganger #the milkman #francis x reader #smut

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evermore-fashion · 3 months

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Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

#Personal #Hello again

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feninina · 8 months

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𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

#cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #jonathan crane fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #jonathan crane x you #cillian one shot #cillian fic #peaky blinder imagine #batman fanfiction #scarecrow x reader

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e-nonsense · 6 months

Note

Request for batfam x estranged daughter who looks like Batdad's mom Martha💔 she's more independent and has been raised by her mother's family who she is extremely close with, but when it comes to Bruce’s side of her fam she gets awkward and shy cuz she never really interacted with them and doesn't know how to approach them which leads to misunderstandings and angsty setbacks in bonding time. But for whatever reason, she gets along great with Damian and Stephanie as if they've been friends for years. Which causes everyone else to feel left out and a bit jealous when they see the trio hanging out having a good time.

𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗔 𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗚𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡

pairing. Batfamily x batsis!reader, slight Dick Grayson x reader

summary. Reader looks startling alike to Bruce’s deceased mother, Martha Wayne.

warnings. swearing, platonic jealousy, mentions of death, horrible parenting (its Bruce), reader is like crazy rich, reader is also 22 and dick is 26. NOT PROOFREAD

authors notes. hope this is what you envisioned. no part 2 so don’t ask

wc. 1.4k

It was Alfred who made the mistake first. Accidently calling you Martha first. He couldn’t help it, you just look so much like her.

Of course he apologised right after and then nearly had a heart attack when you smiled reassuringly, “its fine Alfred.”

A kind heart to match the face of a woman long gone. The elderly man just nodded in response, deciding too keep his mouth shut from then on.

Then it was Bruce. He completely froze the day he met you, froze and stared like a creep. “Holy shit—“ He was immediately cut off by your mother’s glare at him swearing in front of you. “Sorry.”

That day went on with you being shy and awkward around him and Dick —his newly adopted son— who didn’t seem to have any interest in you at all.

“Bruce Wayne,” the man kneels in the get to eye level with a twelve year old you.

“Uh—“ you found yourself string at your mother nervously, only deciding to utter your name after she nods.

Bruce tries to smile —could you see the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes?— at you, “pretty name.”

That was the first time he had seen you, and the last — unless you count the little run ins you’ve had over the years— until ten years later. You were twenty-two, and looked even more like his deceased mother than before.

Bruce found himself watching as you gave Damian tips on the perfect brush stroke to get a texture that would look more like a cloud on canvas.

You nod and smile —one of those encouraging smiles his mother (Martha) used to give him when he got something right— “that’s it. Just try to get lighter towards the end, gives it that fluffy feeling.”

When you had decided to contact Bruce yourself ten years later it had caught him off guard but he agreed. He watched as Damian took to you immediately, the ten year old boy milking you for that motherly affection he never got from his own mother.

The validation when you pat his head and smile at him proudly at his minor achievements, something was child's play to him and yet you were so proud because of it.

The warmth you gave when you smiled in encouragement, or when you’d chuckle softly at his annoyance about one of his brothers. His brothers, not yours as well. You didn’t Bruce’s other wards as siblings, they hadn’t tried to reach out to you so you decided not to bother them with trying as well.

You were nice not stupid.

Stephanie walked into the art room you and Damian had filled with art pieces. You chuckled when the younger girl groaned and draped her arms around you, whining about some inconvenience she had been victim to earlier in the day.

You patted her head and chuckled when Damian scowled at the blonde girl, “get off her you mongrel.”

“Damian,” you say sternly and the young boy huffs before going back to painting clouds. You dragged both yourself and Stephanie towards the couch in the corner of the art filled room and listened as she whined about her day. How Bruce had scolded her about a mistake she made on the field, a minor mistake that even who would make from time to time.

You saw the tears of frustration brimming in the girls eyes and you sigh. “It’s alright Steph,” you hum softly as the girl presses her face into your shoulder.

If Damian hears the blondes sniffles he ignores it, leaving the comforting to you.

None of you speak of Stephanie’s breakdown after it happened. Opting to ignore it afterwards and move on.

Dinner later is chattier than usual, both Damian and Stephanie sitting on either side of you, giving the other member of the family zero chance to gain your attention.

Across from you sat Dick Grayson, who tried to gain your attention but continuously failed so decided to annoy his other brothers. You’re attention is finally somewhere else when Jason growls in annoyance at something Bruce had said.

“It’s for kids Bruce,” Jason seems to be seething. “Children who don’t have the luxury of getting a meal everyday.”

“I can’t trust that the money will actually go into that cause Jason,” Bruce simply sighs. You frown at that, for the first time you speak up.

“Sorry to intrude, but what are you arguing about?” Your voice isn’t timid or soft, it’s stern and had an authority quality that has Jason looking at you in shock before replying.

“Charity thing I’m tryna do,” he begins to explain. “Wanted some money to buy an empty warehouse and build a place that serves food on a daily basis to homeless people.”

You hum in response, “it’s a good idea.”

Jason beams at the praise, “thank you.” And you smile in response, “how much do you need?”

The question catches everyone off guard, “sorry?”

“How much, it’s a good idea and I’d like to help.” You ask and Jason nods.

“Well i wanted it in a good area in Gotham, might help relocate people and stuff.” You nod taking in his words. “$300,000. I need that much.”

Jason shrugs nervously as you think it through, “done.” You smile slightly, “call me if you need anymore though. I’d be happy to help.”

Jason stares at you like you’re some kind of saint, “where are you going to even get that kind of money?” He asks nervously, surely this was too good to be true. You barely knew him, why would you give up that much money so easily.

You chuckle in response, “my dad’s rich.” You pause before adding, “the man my Ma married I mean.”

“So is my Ma,” you shrug. “I inherited it all when they retired.” Jason blinks a few times, as if trying to determine if you’re actually real.

“So would you say you’re richer than Bruce?” Tim asks and you glance over at him before shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno.”

Bruce watches from the head of the table, “she is.”

You raise a brow at that, “stalking my bank account or something?”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head, “no. But I know your father and he’s been years ahead of me for a long time.” You snort in response, “sounds like him alright.”

The rest of dinner passes and you go back to talking to Damian and Stephanie. Jason watches you three from his seat beside Dick. “Why does she only talk to them?”

Dick pauses to look at Jason and puts his fork back down onto the plate, before glancing over at you who seemed to be nodding along to whatever Damian was saying.

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “To be fair we haven’t tried to exactly reach out to her as much either.”

Jason hummed in response, “demon brats a bit attached to her though.. don’t you think?”

“Guess so, pretty sure he looks up to her.” Dick says to Jason before moving his fork towards his mouth. “Like a motherly figure or something.”

Jason snorts and Tim looks over at them, “funny. He’s got two of his siblings substituting as parental figures.”

Tim chokes on his food before laughing, “now that you’ve said it.”

Dick rolls his eyes and chuckles, “leave the kid alone. He got a shitty deal of parents.” Jason snickers but he doesn’t deny it.

Dinner finishes quickly after that, and they watch as you let Damian drag you away, Stephanie following closely behind. “You must meet batcow.” Damian says before leaning in closer to you, to whisper in your ear, “Don’t tell father but there are ducks in my room.”

You wink at him and nod, “our secret then.”

The rest of the night passes and Damian is asleep by the end of it. You find yourself back at the front door, slipping your coat on deciding to go home. “Leaving?”

You turn around quickly to see Dick Grayson, an amused look on his face and a small smile playing on his lips. “I am too,” he shrugs approaching you and reaching for his jacket. “I’ll walk you,” he offers and when you nod he grins outstretching his hand.

Nervously you take his hand in yours and let him pull you along towards the front door, “I know a great view.. I could take you?”

You smile and shrug, leaving the decision to him, “guess we’re going then. I’ll warn you though it high up and its Gotham so don’t expect it to be too pretty.”

You chuckle and he keens at the sound, he finds himself wanting to hear it again, and again, and again.

“I won’t get my hopes up then,” you smile up at him.

He grins and leads you out of the manor and onto the streets of Gotham, that coincidently happened to quite peaceful that night. He silently thanked Bruce for fucking up again, he wouldn’t get this chance if he hadn’t.

#batsis x batfam #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #Platonic batfam #I’m writing again #yay #batsis reader #batsis

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