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#but i kept thinking about it and wanted to organize my thoughts into something a bit more refined
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The Locket
You and Spencer had been working together forever, had known each-other so long you felt closer to him than your own relatives. You knew you loved him, he knew he loved you; so what was the problem?
The problem was neither of you guys were brave enough to say it out loud, afraid the other might not reciprocate.
Whenever Hotch gave orders you always made sure to pair up with him, whenever the team was laughing he was the first person you would look at. You always had your mind on him. So when Hotch needed you to pick a person to find an old file with you, you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with Spencer alone.
“Hey y/n, so we’re looking for the Booker case?” Spencer said as you were walking down the hall into the filing room.
“Yup, the ‘67 one. That’s if we can find it though.” You laugh wryly and Spencer gives you a tight lipped smile in response.
You walk into the room and he shuts the door behind you, Spencer immediately goes to find the shelves that hold the cases from the 60’s (not sure if that’s how the FBI actually organizes it but just go with it). You just watched as his beautiful hands gloss over the labels, his shiny brown hair falling over his eyes.
“Well I think this is going to be harder than I thought. I can’t find it I…I don’t know where else it would be.” He said.
“We’ll find it, its gotta be somewhere here. Maybe it was labelled wrong?” You got a light “hmph” from Spencer. You continued looking.
It had been almost an hour and a half of looking through old boxes. Files were scattered all over the floor and you were starting to get tired and overwhelmed, you could tell Spencer was getting frustrated.
“This is dumb and I’m getting coffee, want something?” You asked.
“No that’s okay, no one gets my copious amounts of sugar right.” He laughes then rubs his eyes and continues pouring over files.
You kept looking, taking occasional breaks and having deep conversations ranging anywhere from star trek to is-there-a-god?
He loved talking to you
You came back ten minutes later with two cups in your hand, one for you and one for Spencer.
“Here.” You hand it to him. “I made sure to fill the cup with sugar before the coffee, should be enough. I really hope it is because if it isn’t you are insane and need help.” You joke as he takes a sip and laughs.
“Perfect.”
“Good.”
A heavy silence filled the room, not awkward or unwelcome but peaceful; just enjoying each others company.
You continued search for another thirty minutes, and still nothing. You were about to give up and leave when Spencer started to speak.
“I like your locket.”
“Huh-oh! Thanks, sorry. Just a bit zoned out.”
“who’s inside it?”
“sorry?”
“who’s photo is in your locket”
“Oh no one’s yet, I just wear it because I think it looks pretty” You say
Theres a pause as you stand up and scour the last shelf to check.
“Wait I found it! Someone put it in the 90’s shelf with double homicides, idiot.”
You go to open the door and give to Hotch but a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.
“Can you put me in your locket?”
huh?
“Uhm, sure…Can I ask why?”
Another pause. You think you’re not getting an answer so you turn again but Spencer finally continues.
“Because I love you.”
Oh?
“Wait you..sorry? I-I don’t understand I..”
“I love you y/n, I’m just sorry I didn’t say it earlier”
The next thing you know your lips are crashing onto his, his hands trail up to your h/l, h/c hair. Your hands start to explore as you trace the hemline of his shirt, one of his hands lowers to hold your hip. The kiss gets more passionate and you can’t help but feel like you’re dazed, in a REM like phase.
You pull away but he goes right back for another kiss. This one was different, more sincere. No trace of desperation or lust, just love. Pure love and admiration.
You both stop and look at each other.
“Do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” Spencer says, a little out of breath.
“Maybe. I’d assume probably the same amount of time I’ve been waiting too.”
You smile and he laughs.
“We should really get these to Hotch.” You say with a deep blush on your face and swollen lips.
“Sure”
You gave the file to Hotch, he gives you his thanks for finally finding the missing papers. Spencer is waiting for you outside his office.
“I know what happened what cut short but, do you maybe want to go for a walk or something after work? I know a really good ice cream place…” He suggests.
“I’d love that. Thank you Spence.”
“Don’t thank me, I’ve always wanted to.”
Always wanted to.
The next day you printed out a photo of you and Spencer and the aforementioned “really good ice cream place”, and put it in your locket.
The End.
Authors Note:
Ok guys first story how do we feel..? i def didn’t proof read this so if it’s ass just know i dont even know what happened either lmao
idrk if i like it or nah but lmk if you have any ideas or requests :)
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maccreadysbaby · 2 days
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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: anxiety attacks
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
yall this is the chapter i’ve been waiting for
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part thirty-eight
❝ AIR AND FIRE AND WATER (OH MY) ❞
THURSDAY — SEPTEMBER 3 — 1:00 PM
BENTLEY WAS SILENT ALL THE WAY HOME. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Other than the fact he was pretty much at a standstill regarding his father and the Secret Keeper and all that jazz, he was starting to feel strange. Like a part of him had been ripped out and thrown into the Gotham Harbor. Like one of his organs had been removed and replaced by one that didn’t fit quite right — like something wrong was inside of him now. 
It was like he could feel his blood pumping in his veins. The entire car ride, he could hear it in his ears. He could hear the gasoline swishing in Jason’s gas tank. He could feel the windshield washing liquid like it was a part of him when Jason cleaned the bugs off the window. He could feel Jason’s blood pumping through Jason’s veins.
What the hell was wrong with him?
The wrongness just kept getting wronger when they pulled up at the Manor, because it went from Jason and Jason’s car to feeling the water moving through the whole house. Like he had an ear against every pipe in the Manor, listening to the liquid swish and move. He knew where it was. Where it was going. He knew where each and every toilet and sink and shower and fridge was from exactly where he was sitting in Jason’s car. Where every saline bag and liquid medicine and electrolyte drink was sitting in the cave. The drip Asten was on, how much was left in it, and every single time it dripped. 
Why the hell did he know that?
Jason said something to him when he got out of the car, but he didn’t hear it. It sounded like there was a waterfall inside the Manor. When he went through the door, it just got worse — he could hear every bead, droplet, every liquid in the house screaming and sloshing and moving and churning and bubbling. He could feel it like it was all inside of him, like it was him, like he was made out of water. He could hear his blood moving. He could hear Jason’s blood. Asten’s blood. Nico’s blood. Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Damian and the animals and Duke and everything — could feel the blood, the water, everything. He could feel everything.
He walked up the stairs one step at a time, every rational thought — every thought at all — literally drowned out by the sound. The feelings. He felt like he was going to explode. Like he was going to die. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, he was shaking, and breathing wasn’t as easy as it should’ve been. Why did he feel so wrong? So wrong? So wrong?
His mind kinda-sorta came back to him when he ran face-first into someone in the hall. Someone with a purple hoodie and black sweatpants.
When Dick Grayson looked down at him, Bentley started crying.
“Whoa, hey there, kiddo, what’s wrong?” Dick questioned, kneeling down to the child’s height, his crystalline blue gaze bouncing around Bentley’s face. His hair was wet and floppy like he’d just showered, and it reminded him of the first night he ever met Dick Grayson in the pouring rain.
Bentley could hardly think enough to make a coherent sentence. Air wasn’t coming in or out right, and he was crying and sad and so overwhelmed, why could he hear everything? “I-I don’t fee-feel right.” Was what he ended up saying, wiping frantically at his eyes. (Stuttering, more like.)
Dick breathed in, a sad expression coming across his features. “I think you’re having a panic attack, buddy. Just breathe with-“
“No! Not that,” Bentley argued, batting away Dick’s hands that had been coming for his arms. “Something inside of me. I-I feel like I’m going to die. I think I… I- think I’m about to die.”
A few words were shared between Dick and someone else, and in one fluid movement, Bentley was picked up and deposited on a bed. But hadn’t they just been in the hallway? He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. The only thing he did know was that everything hurt and he couldn’t breathe and it was so loud.
“Bentley, buddy, tell me what doesn’t feel right,” Dick ordered. Bentley was sitting on the edge of a bed (whose bed? No clue.), halfway in reality, half in his own world of blurry confusing pain. Dick was in front of him, his hands were searching Bentley’s frame for anything abnormal. Jason was near the closed door.
Between the crying and the panicking and the not working lungs, he couldn’t breathe. “Everything. Everything feels wrong.”
Jason said something about Bentley’s dad, but he didn’t really hear him. Dick was touching his shoulders. 
“Bentley, keep talking to me,” He pleaded, rubbing Bentley’s arms lightly. He turned to Jason with a subtle: “Go get Bruce.”
Jason left the room.
Bentley couldn’t focus enough to do much of anything. With a groan of… desperation, maybe? He brought his hands up and covered his ears, trying to drown out all the noise. There was so much noise. Too much noise. 
After an indecipherable amount of time passed, someone else was touching Bentley. Bigger hands, stronger grip. He peeled his eyes open just long enough to see Bruce’s face in front of him, icy blue eyes scanning him mechanically, robotically. His mouth moved but Bentley couldn’t hear him over the crashing waves in his own head.
Gently, his hands were removed from his ears. “Hey there, chum, it’s Bruce. Do you think you can tell me what’s going on?” He was doing a pretty good job masking the concern in his voice, but Bentley heard it anyways.
“I-I can… I…” Bentley choked on a few words and sobs at the same time, his hands shaking like leaves where they sat in Bruce’s grip. “I can… hear… I-I can feel… everything.”
Bentley thought he heard something in the room bang or pop, but he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t exactly hear very good. Bruce suddenly got a strange look on his face, and Jason and Dick, who were behind him, looked stunned.
“B, his eyes-”
“Shh,” Bruce ordered, one of his hands coming up to rest on the side of Bentley’s head. “It’s okay, chum. You’re going to be okay. Just look at me.”
Bentley looked at him as best he could through the tears and panic. He tried not to pay attention to Dick, who walked over to the bathroom door looking really, really confused. 
“Breathe with me,” Bruce tried. He took a deep, calculated breath, and Bentley tried to follow suit. It only sort of worked. The roaring in his head wasn’t fading. If anything, it was starting to sound more… real?
“What the f-”
“Jason!”
Bentley’s attention broke away from Bruce just in time for him to glance at the closed bathroom door — was he in Dick’s room? — and see water. Water, just gushing out from under the door like the crack at the bottom was a pressure washer, straight into the bedroom and all over the floor.
“Bruce-“
“Bentley, just look at me,” 
Bentley did. He just looked at Bruce, tracing the fractals of blue in his eyes, focusing on every hair in his eyebrows, every shade of his skin. Bentley just looked at Bruce as the water started to climb the legs of the bed like a slithering snake, curling and wrapping around until it made it onto the mattress. Dick and Jason were standing off to the side, stunned into silence. Bentley just looked at Bruce.
Bentley continued to just look at Bruce as the water started floating — yes, floating, actually suspended in the air — around the room. Some of it crawled up the walls like vines, some spun and danced in the middle of the air like trees in the breeze. It was getting easier to breathe. The roaring was getting quieter.
“That’s it, you’re okay,” Bruce uttered, his hand moving gently in Bentley’s hair. “You’re okay.”
Bentley finally broke his gaze to glance upward. There was water on the ceiling, spinning and churning in intricate swirls and designs there, and water floating through the air in strands like string. It was moving on the walls, the floor, the furniture like snakes. 
Bruce rubbed a hand over his hair. “That’s it. There you go.”
Bentley breathed in deeply, hiccuping lightly, his brown eyes tracing the flying water. “Bruce…”
“It’s okay,”
He wasn’t… this wasn’t… he wasn’t doing that, was he? He couldn’t be. He wasn’t a metahuman. He hadn’t been in the machine long enough, Davis had said so. He was just Bentley. Just normal Bentley.
Normal Bentley focused on one specific snake of water on the ceiling. He imagined it moving left, and it went left. He imagined it moving right, and it went right. He imagined an intricate, beautiful chandelier, hanging from the ceiling, made entirely of water, and the liquid morphed and moved until it became that. Chains, dangling crystals, and metal galore, all shaped from crystal clear water.
“Oh my God,” Jason muttered. He and Dick were staring at the chandelier made of pure water, but Bruce wasn’t. Bruce was still looking at Bentley.
The water slowly moved from the chandelier back to its spot swirling on the ceiling. 
There was absolutely no way Bentley was doing that. Right? There couldn’t be. He couldn’t be.
As a last ditch effort to prove that he wasn’t controlling the water, he imagined it going back where it came from.
And the water, ever-so-slowly, started to crawl off the bed, down from the ceiling and the walls, across the floor again at a glacial pace. Dick swung the bathroom door open. Bentley watched in a mixture of awe and terror as he watched the vines of water slither back into the toilet and faucets.
When all the water was gone, nothing was wet, not even the mattress, and the room was eerily silent. And Bentley was oddly drained.
Fire, Air, and Water. How clever, Mr. Whittaker.
Bentley looked back up at Bruce, who had a reassuring smile on his face.
“Are you going to get rid of me now?”
Before he heard the reply, everything faded to black.
The first (and pretty much only) thing he got back was his hearing.
“-telling you, this is different. The whole structure of his DNA looks strange. It’s different from the last blood sample we have from him — It almost looks like a whole new strand,” That was Tim’s voice, he was pretty sure. 
“So you’re saying that whoever kidnapped him changed his human DNA into metahuman DNA?”
“It looks like they… tore apart his original genome and spliced other parts in… like they manufactured synthetic DNA with the genetic mutation of a metahuman and replaced pieces of his own with it. It looks like… whoa,”
“What is it, Timmy?”
“It’s changing. The synthetic DNA is actually… turning the rest of his DNA into metahuman genomes. Spreading… like a virus,”
“Will that hurt him?”
“Let’s just say… I understand why he thought he was dying,”
“You think that could be why Asten-“
Bentley, had he been any more lucid, would’ve flinched at the absolutely gut-wrenching scream that ripped through the air. He was laying on something soft — it just sort of felt like his bed. A bed, at least. And the scream sounded strangely close to him.
“Well, his genes are being ripped apart and replaced, so, if I had to guess, yeah. That’s probably why he’s screaming,”
“What about Bentley?” He was pretty sure that voice was Dick, now that it said his name.
“It seems to be the beginning of the change. I don’t think there’s much we can do to help,”
Suddenly, Bentley’s eyes began to burn even though they were closed. He moved a hand to rub them, but as soon as he moved his fingers, his entire arm erupted into a blazing, fiery pain that made him whine.
“Are they going to be okay?” Came a third voice — the voice of Nico. Bentley felt a hand land on his shoulder, but instead of being soothing, it left a ripple of burning agony that made him choke out a strange sound. The hand jumped away.
“Yeah, they will,” Replied Dick. “We just have to get them through this. How are you feeling?”
There was a silence where all Bentley heard was his own bated breathing. 
“Well, I… I was already a metahuman, so…”
“Oh… okay,”
Bentley tensed, gripping whoever’s covers he was under hard when a surge of absolute burning agony washed over him. It felt like when he was poisoned. Worse than when he was poisoned — like someone was searing his veins closed with a blowtorch. Another choking sound made it's way out of him, but he couldn’t produce words.
“You’re okay, kiddo. You’re going to be okay,”
Asten screamed again. Nico was suddenly crying.
Another wave of absolute searing agony came and went, and Bentley fought it good — he really did. He kept his whining to a minimum for a solid ten minutes.
But then the fire reached his head, and suddenly, two children’s screams were ripping through the halls of Wayne Manor.
And everyone inside just had to listen.
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚
tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)
@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere
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fictionadventurer · 1 year
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Pop culture reduces It's a Wonderful Life to that last half hour, and thinks the whole thing is about this guy traveling to an alternate universe where he doesn't exist and a little girl saying, "Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings." A hokey, sugary fantasy. A light and fluffy story fit for Hallmark movies.
But this reading completely glosses over the fact that George Bailey is actively suicidal. He's not just standing there moping about, "My friends don't like me," like some characters do in shows that try to adapt this conceit to other settings. George's life has been destroyed. He's bankrupt and facing prison. The lifetime of struggle we've been watching for the last two hours has accomplished nothing but this crushing defeat, and he honestly believes that the best thing he can do is kill himself because he's worth more dead than alive. He would have thrown himself from a bridge had an actual angel from heaven not intervened at the last possible moment.
That's dark. The banker villain that pop culture reduces to a cartoon purposely drove a man to the brink of suicide, which only a miracle pulled him back from. And then George Bailey goes even deeper into despair. He not only believes that his future's not worth living, but that his past wasn't worth living. He thinks that every suffering he endured, every piece of good that he tried to do was not only pointless, but actively harmful, and he and the world would be better off if he had never existed at all.
This is the context that leads to the famed alternate universe of a million pastiches, and it's absolutely vital to understanding the world that George finds. It's there to specifically show him that his despondent views about his effect on the universe are wrong. His bum ear kept him from serving his country in the war--but the act that gave him that injury was what allowed his brother to grow up to become a war hero. His fight against Potter's domination of the town felt like useless tiny battles in a war that could never be won--but it turns out that even the act of fighting was enough to save the town from falling into hopeless slavery. He thought that if it weren't for him, his wife would have married Sam Wainwright and had a life of ease and luxury as a millionaire's wife, instead of suffering a painful life of penny-pinching with him. Finding out that she'd have been a spinster isn't, "Ha ha, she'd have been pathetic without you." It's showing him that she never loved Wainwright enough to marry him, and that George's existence didn't stop her from having a happier life, but saved her from having a sadder one. Everywhere he turns, he finds out that his existence wasn't a mistake, that his struggles and sufferings did accomplish something, that his painful existence wasn't a tragedy but a gift to the people around him.
Only when he realizes this does he get to come back home in wild joy over the gift of his existence. The scenes of hope and joy and love only exist because of the two hours of struggle and despair that came before. Even Zuzu's saccharine line about bells and angel wings exists, not as a sugary proverb, but as a climax to Clarence's story--showing that even George's despair had good effect, and that his newfound thankfulness for life causes not only earthly, but heavenly joy.
If this movie has light and hope, it's not because it exists in some fantasy world where everything is sunshine and rainbows, but because it fights tooth and nail to scrape every bit of hope it can from our all too dark and painful world. The light here exists, not because it ignores the dark, but because the dark makes light more precious and meaningful. The light exists in defiance of the dark, the hope in defiance of despair, and there is nothing saccharine about that. It's just about as realistic as it gets.
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cordeliawhohung · 4 months
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need mafia!simon and shy!reader pda stuff in the club and out in public
you know what anon, i need this too. in this little shot we're gonna pretend simon and reader have been together for a bit. also i went to extreme pda and made them almost fuck hope that was okay lmao
mafia!141 masterlist
warnings: HEAVY pda, a bit of sexual tension, but mostly fluff, a little smooch, Simon can't keep his hands off of you, reader is an anxious sweetheart
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How you kept ending up in a place such as John Price's club was beyond you, and frankly a bit concerning. It was the last place in the entire world that you wanted to be due to how crowded, loud, and terrifying it was, yet be it because of your friend, or Simon Riley, you always made your way back there for one reason or another.
That night wasn't much different than any of the other times you had been there, and maybe you should have been grateful for the fact that the club was at least a little predictable. What wasn't predictable, though, was your boyfriend. Out of anyone you had ever met, he was a wildcard, which both intrigued and scared you at the same time. Always keeping things interesting, he was rather sporadic which was nice and yet the single greatest cause for your anxiety in most cases.
"A little more to the right," Simon prompted.
No matter where you were at, if there was a pool table, Simon was able to find it. You noticed that he always kept his hands moving like he was hardly ever able to sit still, be it checking something on his phone, or holding your hand. Pool seemed to be his drug of choice, though, which of course meant that you would always end up playing with him, where he would mercilessly beat you in every single round.
"Like this?" you asked.
"Tad too much. There, now shoot."
Despite his guidance, the tip of your cue grazed the side of the ball which sent it spinning too far to the left. Huffing, you straightened yourself up as you watched it clumsily bounce against the sides of the table before eventually coming to a stop.
"Yikes," you muttered.
"Thanks for lining up my shot for me, sweetheart," Simon teased.
Just like the last two rounds, Simon wrangled yet another triumphant win for himself as he knocked his last three balls into the pockets before slamming the last eight ball along with them. By that point you weren't even disappointed when you lost as you were very much used to it. Your boyfriend, however, never seemed to get used to how much he enjoyed gloating after each win.
"Another round?" he suggested.
"I think it'd be more efficient if you played by yourself at this point," you sighed as you rested your cue against the table.
Mirroring your actions, Simon rested his cue next to yours before he put his hands on your hips. You weren't prepared for how quickly your mouth would run dry, and you found your eyes blinking rapidly as you stared up at him. His touch was warm, it always was, or maybe you just thought it was because it always felt like your organs were boiling whenever he even so much as looked at you. But there were so many people around, too many people around.
"Bein' a sore loser, are we?" he teased.
It took a moment for the words to form in your mouth, like his touch had completely reset your brain. Eventually, your hands came up to rest on his chest as if attempting to keep some modest space between the two of you.
"Simon, there- there are people around," you said as you anxiously glanced around the area. The VIP bar had less people than any other area in the building, but there were still too many eyes for your comfort.
"What about it?" he asked. His thumbs began to glide along your hips, desperately trying to feel the softness of your skin through the fabric of your pants.
"Someone's gonna see," you defended.
Nothing you said seemed to deter Simon from his task. His hands continued to paw at your hips as his own pushed you against the pool table, trapping your legs as his head lowered into the crook of your neck. You could feel the embarrassment boil just underneath your skin, and your fingers gripped his shirt so tightly you worried it would rip.
"Let 'em see," he said, lips grazing against your neck. "They can mind their damn business if they care so much."
"Simon, seriou-!"
Your words were cut off with a squeak as he effortlessly lifted you up and sat you on the edge of the table. His hips nestled between your thighs and you were infinitely grateful that you hadn't worn a dress that time around. Still, no matter how grateful you were, it didn't change your precarious situation.
"Trust me, sweetheart," he assured you while his hands began to wander up towards your waist, "no one cares."
Every brush of his fingers and hands against you sent shivers throughout your body. It was the strangest feeling ever, enjoying his touch and yet feeling ashamed about it at the same time. Too many prying eyes, glances not actually meant for you but ones your brain convinced you were malicious. Maybe if you were stronger, more confident, more brave, you could have actually enjoyed the moment instead of worrying so much about it.
"I care," you blurted out.
Once those words left your mouth Simon's hands ceased in wandering over your waist. He slowly moved away from your neck and leaned back to look at you, where you found his expression was much softer than you had anticipated it to be. He was handsome all the time, but even more so when he looked at you like that; like you were the only person in the whole world.
With your hands still gripping the fabric of his shirt, you yanked hard on it and pulled him close enough until your lips crashed together. Everything in your brain screamed for you to stop, that people were around, that they'd think you were a freak, but it was as if something had possessed you. Surprised, but not at all upset, Simon returned his hands back to your waist as he moved his lips against yours.
To your surprise, it was actually Simon who pulled away first, and he was not at all trying to hide the slight smirk on his lips. You blinked a few times to clear your mind before you found one of your hands reaching out for your cue stick.
"A-Another round?" you asked.
Simon tilted his head to the side and you watched as a short chuckle rippled through his chest and shoulders. He reached for his own cue before taking a step back and allowing you to slide off of the table.
"I'll go easy on you this time," he claimed.
While he set the table up you stood watching him with a hand over your chest. Your heart pulsed so powerfully in your rib cage you were certain your pulse was visible in your throat. Still, you tried to shake off that trembling feeling of excitement that coursed through your body while you pretended your hands weren't struggling to hold your cue stick due to your sweaty palms.
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i thought about having simon make a joke about bending you over and fucking you on the table and everyone else could just deal with it but i thought that might've been too much so i went for something a bit more fluffy instead lmao. also requests are open again so feel free to send in some if you have any ideas (:
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cherry-leclerc · 6 months
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the red high heels ☆ cs55
genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins
word count: 1.9k
It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?
req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)
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Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.
“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake. 
“What do you mean you don’t know?” 
“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!” 
Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.
“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns. 
“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.
“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.” 
“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt. 
“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.
“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.
“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.
“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.” 
“I bet.”
The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”
“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters. 
“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets. 
“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”
Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it. 
Get. Him. Out.
He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”
The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.” 
“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”
“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.
“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”
Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.
The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.
“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily. 
“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”
He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”
“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans. 
“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot. 
“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.
“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…
It tips over.
Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”
“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”
Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.
“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”
“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.
“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods. 
“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.” 
“Amor, you should get checked out-”
“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.
“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.
“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.” 
“No.”
His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.
“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”
He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.
“I think he’s right.” 
I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.
“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.
“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.
“I…”
Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.
“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you. 
“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”
“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”
The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.
“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”
Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you. 
“I swear to God I will always do that.”
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sluttywonwoo · 2 months
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they wanna (fuck)
pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe
summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend
warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)
smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking
word count: 3.2k
your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.
it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.
“why vernon?” you’d asked.
“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.
“and he told you this?”
“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”
“and have you asked him about this?”
“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”
“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”
joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”
-
you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.
joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.
“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”
his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”
“what? how does that work?”
“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”
it was your turn to be flustered.
joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.
you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”
he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”
-
when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…
“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.
“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.
you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”
he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”
you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”
“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”
“fair enough.”
he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.
“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”
“is that ok?” vernon asks you.
“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.
he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.
you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.
vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.
he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.
“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.
“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”
his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.
everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.
your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.
“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.
vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.
the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.
“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”
you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.
“can i eat her out?”
your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.
“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”
you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.
vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”
you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“how’re you doing, baby?”
“good,” you say through a hazy smile.
“yeah? his fingers feel good?”
“mhm…”
“i bet his mouth will too.”
you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?
you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.
“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.
you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.
“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.
you roll your eyes. “shua…”
“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”
“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”
joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.
“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.
he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.
it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.
it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.
you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.
“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.
he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.
“is he that good?”
you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”
between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.
joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.
"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.
vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.
they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.
"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.
"i know," your boyfriend mutters.
"lucky bastard."
joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”
you nod with a smile. “mhm.”
“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”
“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”
“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.
“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.
you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.
“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.
“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.
joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”
“like if this goes well, right?”
joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.
vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.
he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.
"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.
"that's not true!" you protest.
"it's a little true," joshua insists.
vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.
"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.
joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."
you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.
"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.
"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."
"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."
"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.
vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."
he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.
"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.
vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.
"are you ready?"
"yes."
"are you sure?"
"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"
the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.
"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"
"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."
"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.
"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.
"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.
he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.
vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.
"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.
"yeah, please. please fuck me."
he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.
"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"
"th-this is good," you say.
"rub her clit," joshua adds.
"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.
he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.
"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.
"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.
"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.
"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"
he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."
joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"
"what?"
your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.
"for real?"
joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.
vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.
you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.
vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.
"told you."
"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.
"you can cum whenever you want."
"but sh-she hasn't yet..."
"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"
"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.
"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.
he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.
he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.
"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"
"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."
he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.
"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."
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battymommastuff · 2 months
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The Other Side
Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily
Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City
!!TW!! - MENTIONS OF SA AND OTHER DARK THEMES
Part 1 Part 2 Masterlist
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!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.
You didn't get a chance to address the deep voice before a cloth was covering your face and the world went dark. A throbbing pain came next when you awoke. You were laying on a very luxurious bed. Looking down, you saw that you were still in your same clothing. Just a silk robe that covered your underwear. Your heart was racing as you looked around the room. Whoever lived here, lived in style. Everything looked as if it would cost you bodily organs to own. 
Before the shock could wear off, the two massive double doors opened, and a man walked into the room. A mask covering his face, and his eyes watched you carefully. Your body visibly shrunk as you stared at the intimidating man across the room from you, "Ms. (L/N), I do want to apologize for the rather harsh retrieval of you. We have to take precautionary measures these days." The man said while stepping closer to you. He stepped into the moonlight, and you finally saw every detail of his mask. A golden bird mask...no owl mask. What the hell is going on? 
"W-What do you want with me?" You asked, moving off of the bed once he got too close to you. The bed now served as a barrier between you and your kidnapper, but it didn't provide any comfort for you. All you could think of was being raped, and sold on the black market. Gotham City wasn't the safest city, but you never thought this would happen to you. How did this happen? There was always security watching over the bunk area every night to make sure this never happened. How did these men get in to kidnap you? Whatever the reason, you didn't feel safe with the circus anymore. 
"To give you a chance...a chance to be apart of something great. My organization works from the shadows to ensure the safety of our beautiful city..." Beautiful isn't a word you would use, but sure, "You possess a talent that could be beneficial to our cause." The man picked up a remote and turned the tv on. What played was several of your acts and some of your rehearsals. All taken from vantage points, and places that you wouldn't have noticed someone watching you, "We've come to realize that our organization is seen as a myth, a boogeyman. Many criminals fear us, and with your talents...we could harness that fear." He stepped around the bed and started making his way towards you once again. The fear you felt kept your legs from moving, so this time he got uncomfortably close to you, "Join us (Y/N). Join us and help us purge Gotham of everything that taints it." 
The Court of Owls. One of Gotham's scariest myths. You've heard whispers of them while spending days in the city. Some of your fellow performers even mentioned them once or twice. Everything you've ever heard was never good. This cult believes they are doing the right thing, but are harming so many in the process. You couldn't join them...you couldn't live your life in the shadows. What could ever be so wonderful about someone so full of darkness? It seemed that the man saw what you were thinking, and he backed away, "Such a shame...you would have been such a valuable asset. I'm afraid if you won't join us, then we have to do away with you. You will pose a risk to all of us." The man turned his back towards you, and you knew now was your chance. Grabbing the closest thing to you; a lamp, you hit him over the bed. The man dropped to the ground, and you ran to the window. Luckily you weren't too high from the ground, so you pushed the window open and climbed out. 
You could hear voices and yelling as you dashed into the dark, raining city. You hadn't a clue where you were going, but anywhere would be better than this. The circus would be the first place they would look, so you had to find somewhere new. You could hear footsteps behind you as well as some above you. They were after you, and they were fast. Thankfully, your breathing training worked wonders. Still you were no match for these skilled men. They managed to corner you into a dead end alley. This is it. The place where your dead body would be found. It all ended here. The vile smell of puke, piss, and garbage filled your nose as you looked around at the court members closing in on you, "P-Please...I promise I won't tell anyone. Just let me go." You pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. From behind you were pushed to your knees, and you could see your reflection in the blade meant for your death. 
The member lifted the blade up, but before it could meet your skin...a rope wrapped around their wrist. With a scream, they were pulled into the darkness. It felt as if all sound in the city stopped...everything went quiet. You felt fear before, but this was a new level of fear. A fear that you never would forget. A black shadow flew by, grabbing another member. This caused the rest of them to ignore you, and turned their attention to their surroundings. Now would have been the perfect time to run, but your legs were screaming. The adrenaline was wearing off, and it felt like you couldn't move an inch. A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky, right as a shadow covered the alley...a shadow of a bat. The mysterious savior dropped down on one of the members, and a fight broke out. You could only watch in awe as your savior took down every single member without much struggle. Once it was over, the figure turned towards you. Again the lighting allowed you a glimpse of him. The bat symbol of his chest matched the one in the night sky. 
"Batman..." You whispered, with relief before your eyes rolled back and you slumped to the ground. Batman walked towards you, and gently picked you up from the ground. He didn't see any visible injuries besides little scrapes on your knees from being pushed to the ground. Even now you were just as beautiful as you were while performing. He held you close and summoned the Batmobile. No hospital in Gotham would be safe enough for you. He needed to take you to the batcave. There you would be safe, and he could question you. 
"Alfred, get the med-bay ready. We have a guest." Batman said into his comms, after sitting you in the passenger seat. Your head leaned on the window, but your lips were starting to turn blue. Judging from your attire, you must have been getting ready for bed. With one final look over to make sure you were secure, he raced off into the streets of Gotham to the batcave.
TAGLIST
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astolfofo · 27 days
Note
…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.
hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.
tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.
Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind
also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.
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There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.
The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.
Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.
You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.
But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.
You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.
And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.
After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.
You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.
The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.
To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.
And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.
You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.
-
out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.
It certainly wasn't you.
Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.
You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.
Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.
You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.
All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.
You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.
But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.
It drove you to madness.
If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.
From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.
You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.
There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.
They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.
"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"
It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.
He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.
"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."
You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.
You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.
Look at where it got you.
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fictionalslvr · 9 months
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Part two part three
SYNOPSIS:Ghost is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.
PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader
WORD COUNT:3.500k
WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.
NOTES:Ghost past is based on his comics, i'll prob make this one a mini serie (if you guys like), a lot different then what i usually write for, but i hope you guys enjoy without being what you guys are used on this blog, i'm planning to write both, angst and smut, even mix them sometimes. So, i hope you guys enjoy :(
(And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.)
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It’s been a long while since you lived alone, and it’s been a very comfortable life since then. At first, it made you feel uneasy, after a long while, you were getting used to it, and having a place to call yours it’s everything you wanted before. Your apartment is cozy, organized with things you like, and you always try your best to keep it clean. The neighborhood is quite calm as well, you were living peacefully in this apartment complex.
That was until a new neighbor came in. He was a tall guy, he had a mysterious aura around him, it’s the quiet type and you don’t hear him speaking so often, actually, you never heard. To be honest, he doesn’t stay in his apartment too much, it’s the one above you, and hearing him it’s unusual. Maybe it is his work that keeps him so far for too long, you can’t say exactly what he works with, since you don’t know him properly. The only thing you know is that he keeps his face a mystery, always walking with a black balaclava that shows only his eyes, and this is a mystery you were dying to get to know. One day, while walking back to your humble home, you took the same elevator as the new neighbor, the silence that creeps out is weird, and you keep your eyes everywhere, but not on him. The silence was bizarre, and it seemed like it was going to take forever! When the elevator door opens in your floor, you can only rushes out of that tiny place with that man, that almost make you hyperventilate.
He looked calm during it, laying his back in the walls while his arms were crossed and he was looking distracted. With a quick but gentle movement, you just nod your head to him when leaves, he looks surprised by it, and nods back after some seconds staring at you. The metal door closes slowly, showing no more his figure.
But your encounters with him were always like this. Some head nods and sometimes a smile from your part, But the mystery this man is, no one knows him well enough for a talk, and this was making you insane, All days, you caught yourself thinking about him, how his voice sounded like, how his face is behind that mask, what he works with, what is his name, his age..things like that kept haunting your thoughts. Until one day, you decided to make a slight move, asking for some ingredient would be a great way to hear his voice, and maybe later baking him something to give it to him.
You sigh, you heard some footsteps, he must be home today. You knock on the door, gently with your hands shaking. It doesn’t take too much until your ears peak with the sound of him getting close to the door. His figure appears when he opens just half of the door.
—”May I help you?” —His voice is raspy, calm and relaxed at the same time. You notice how he has a strong British accent. From this distance, you can smell his scent, it’s strong and smells like whiskey and cigarettes, it’s oddly…comforting.
—”Sorry for bothering, I'm the neighbor below, I just want to know…if you have some sugar to give, by any chance.” —With a cute smile, you show him a little bowl in your hands that he can put the sugar in, the man narrows his eyes at you and nods.
—”Yes, I do. wait a minute.” — His fingers brush against yours when he takes the bowl in your hands and goes inside for a while. He leaves the door slightly open, and you just wait outside hearing his heavy footsteps around the house. When he’s back, your little bowl is filled with sugar, and he gives it back to you, his fingers brushing yours again.
—”Thanks, this will help a lot. I’m making cookies…would you like some?” — Your gentle voice was hard to ignore, he slowly nodded, and you can hear a little chuckle escaping his lips. It’s very good to hear, you felt your heart skipping a beat, he’s leaning against the door frame, looking at you.
—”Thanks for the sugar, I'm [name] by the way." —He keeps silent for a while, like he’s listening to your voice attentively.
—”It was nothing. I’m glad to help you, [name].”—You were expecting that he would say his name, but he just tries your name on his tongue. The tense ambient between you two is noticeable when the silence is back. You can only hum softly and look away.
—’What is…your name?”
—Simon. Call me Simon.”
—”Oh…okay Simon, thanks again and pleasure to meet you. Goodbye!”—Was a short talk, but it was enough to make your heart flutter with the warmth of his voice. You wave at him and he waves back, then all you can see is his back turning, his figure fading inside his house.
Quickly, you made your way back, still shivering a little, scared that he might think you’re weird. With a loud sigh, you close the door behind you, feeling safe inside your home. You know his name now…Simon. His voice is raspy and deep, and yet, makes you feel like you want to hear this voice every morning, the warmth of his body so close, his dark eyes staring at you making your legs weak. Everything about him didn't sound cold as they describe him.
He wasn’t that cold, deep and dark, no. He sounded so sweet and endearing to you, you just wish you could meet him better, talk to him more, listen to his voice, feel his presence towering at you, his expressions that you can only understand by his eyes, and you find this very beautiful, understand his feeling through his eyes, hear his warm chuckle filling the hall and not leaving your ears. It was memorable, even if it looked silly or too short. You felt really happy for doing that ‘move’.
Your kitchen is filled by a sweet smell, it’s the cookies you baked, with cute gloves around your hands, you take the plate with cookies and blow the steam off softly, Okay…you should give this to Simon now. You left a cute note too, that says ‘Enjoy the cookies, i hope its good :D’
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After one hour of your visit, Simon doesn't stop thinking about his neighbor. You're sweet, you're the only one in this complex that had the courage to talk to him, the other ones just look at him from afar and give him some judgmental glances. But you...you came to talk, and was smiling too! That definitely means you're not afraid of him, that you're willing to talk to him even when he's using that balaclava all the time. His thoughts are interrupted by some knock on his door, and weirdly…he hopes it's you again. He walks to the door and opens, with some kind of rush, but he doesn't see your cute smiling figure, no…he looks everywhere and there's no sight of you, but looking down, he finds a little plate painted with flowers, there's some cookies on it and a note too. He bends his body down a little and smiles through the balaclava. Picking up the plate, he can sense the smell of the warm cookies, it's still a bit hot, the steam in the air, blowing a delightful scent. He enters his apartament again, closing the door with his feet as he looks at the cookies in his hands, they look delicious. Simon starts to read the post-it in the plate, it has a message for him
"Enjoy the cookies, i hope it's good :D"
-[Name]
That's cute, he thought. It takes a chuckle out of him. His stomach starts to snore in hunger, that smell filling his brain and all he can think about is…why is she being so nice? No one in this complex was ever this nice with him, somehow, they seem to be scared of him, disgusted, or even feel pity for him. But being kind? She's the first one and all he can think about is the reasons she's doing this. He's a stoic soldier, who works a lot, doesn't stay at home too much, smells of whiskey and cigarettes, he doesn't show his face, he's tall, looks scary…why is she not afraid of Simon? He sighs and shakes his head. Sitting on his couch with a loud sigh, he rests his head back while eating her cookies, it's indeed delicious as the smell, it's house made and tastes like love. He can't help but leave a joyful hum at the taste.
—"Why is this so good?" —He talks to himself, that seems a little crazy, but he's his only company for a long while, so he's used to this. She could have poisoned him with these cookies, but no, her intentions were good. He's a cautious man, always thinking of his work, and his work only. But now? He can only taste these good cookies and wish for more, he wishes he could taste a lot of things that she made, seeing her cooking would be adorable, and the taste and smell of it only fills his heart with love, the love he never experienced before. Simon caught himself thinking of being with her, on her apartment, seeing her cook while she mumbles a song to herself, moving her body along the kitchen so cutely, he can't help but think that he wants this for his life, this peaceful mind for once, being at easy, without all the fear his work provides. And for once, rest his mind.
But she's only a kind neighbor, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking of coming back after a long mission, and seeing her lips curling into a smile, feeling her little arms hugging him because she missed him too much, he doesn't have this. And he thinks he didn't even deserve this peace. All the people he killed with his hands, the blood he dropped, the fear in people's gaze when he's around, he's not the one who should be at a comfort in home, happy and living good, no. He thinks he doesn't deserve this at all. She's probably just being kind, why would she enjoy his company after all? He doesn't have anything good in him, he's only a stoic man, with scars, a bad past and a hard work to do that makes his hands dirty. He's sure a man like him doesn't have this.
As for you, you didn't want to bother him with your presence again, so you just left the cookies on his door, rushing back to the elevator when you knocked on the door. You wish you could see his reaction, but you don't want to disturb his peace once more, talking a lot while he just listens. You really wish he liked it. While you're on your couch, your legs are moving up and down quickly, in a nervous movement, you can't help but bite your nails, your other fingers fidgeting on your lap, as your mind is full of thoughts about his reaction. Will he like it? What if he finds you annoying? What if he finds you weird and doesn't want you around? Gosh, your mind is tricking yourself. You sigh loudly and decide to try some sleep, this will maybe put your mind at ease once, meeting new people wasn't that easy for you.
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By the morning, you woke up, not from the sunlight on your body, flashing on your eyes, not from the discomfort in your back from your sleeping positions, not from your cat resting in your tummy, none of this. But, you woke up by the sound of a knock in your door, a single one, who could be this early? You get up, leaving your little cat resting now in the bed, the sunlight keeping her warm. Your vision is still a little blurry, you rub your eyes with your fingers and walk to the door, opening without thinking too much about it, and the sight of who’s here messes your mind, making your vision immediately fix alone and your mind races, the sleep left your body.
—”Sorry for appearing so early. I am…going to work. And just wanted to say thanks for the cookies last night, they were delicious.” —Simon spoke softly, he seems not sleepy at all now, but his baggy eyes show that maybe he didn’t sleep, that’s why he’s so energetic now. You blush softly, his voice is even more deep in the morning, that British accent never leaving his tongue as he speaks.
—”Oh, that’s okay, I'm glad you liked it, Simon.” —Your voice sounded dragged by the remaining sleep, but you managed to give him a little smile. You want to know what he works with to leave this early.
—”I can see you were sleeping, sorry.” —Simon looks away, scratching the back of his neck even with the balaclava, scratching the silk of it. You look at your body and notice you're with your pajamas, it’s an old one, that is now short for you, and you can’t help but blush for Simon seeing you like this.
—”Don’t worry about it. Would you…like some coffee?” —You try to change the subject, hoping he won’t talk about your pajamas. A silence stays for a long while, Simon looks into your eyes, he’s surprised about your offer and it's visible. He can only nod and mumbles under his breath. He knows that he shouldn't be accepting this, he doesn’t deserve to have a calm breakfast, with someone who doesn't look at him disgusted by his acts, someone that is too innocent, that doesn't know what those hands did, what his ears listened to, what his eyes saw. For a brief second, he had a flashback of his past, everything he did. You're kind because you don’t know this man, don’t know the danger he could be to someone so innocent like you, who could literally break you with those blood painted hands.
You invite him inside, he’s now on your table, tapping his fingers on your table, as your figure is with you back turned to him, making coffee. This house is so cozy, warm and…a bit feminine, he could say. Simon looks in every detail, noticing how there's a lot of photos of you with what seems to be your family. You have someone that cares about you, everything he had vanished like dust, you’re so lucky for having a family. He wonders, if your family would take care of him too, if they would accept him like a son, and yet…he doesn’t have nothing with you, just some small talk. Maybe he is only overthinking. Your voice snaps him out of a trance, while he looks at your photos around the house.
—”How do you like your coffee? With sugar?”—He drives his attention to you again, who’s looking at him from your shoulder. He likes sugar, it’s something that can distract him from his bitter life.
—”With sugar, please.” —And after a while, in a good and comforting silence, you pour the coffee in two cups, putting one in front of the man on her table. He looks so much bigger than her chair, it’s a little funny, in a good way. The steam flows from their cups as Simon looks down to it, his face is hard to read, after all, only his eyes appear. Then, you caught yourself wondering, how he would drink the coffee with that balaclava.
—”I won’t look, i promise.”—You looks away, while blowing the steam and taking a sip of your coffee to disguise your nervous manner, bad idea, it was hot as hell, it burn your tongue, and you hiss in pain, dropping the cup back into the table quickly, happily, it didn’t break, You make a pout with your lips, your tongue hurts a lot now.
—”Oh, are you…okay?” —Simon left everything he was thinking behind and walked in front of you. He kneels down to level his height, since you’re sitting in the chair. His figure bends down to yours, his hands are shaking when he touches your arm slightly, like he’s afraid to make you uncomfortable.
—”Is’h okay…”—Your voice sounds weird, since your tongue hurts, you can’t speak properly. Simon takes a cup from your sink and pour the sink water on it, it’s not cold, neither hot. He kneels back, looking up to your eyes and giving you the cup with water.
—”Here, warm water will help.” —You do as he advises and drink the water without hesitation. The burden sensation easen a little, he seems to know what to do in this kind of situation.
—”How did you knew…thanks.”—Deciding to interrupt your question, you just say thanks to him. He looks right into your eyes, his expression seems softer a little, seeing you’re a little better.
—”My job…makes me learn how to prepare yourself for all kinds of situations.” —He talks a little about his job, not revealing what exactly it is. You look down at him, keeling down on his knees while looking worried about you, his hands still shaking, wandering on his knees, not touching you to make you uncomfortable. After all he passed through, he wouldn’t want someone like you to feel the same.
—”Thanks, it helped somehow. You’re really prepared for this.”
—”It’s my job to protect people. We have our ways to do so.” —Simon gets up from the ground and walks back to his chair, in front of you, slightly he lifts up his balaclava, revealing only his mouth and drinks a sip. The coffee it's not as hot as it was before. In a sign of respect, you look away, not wanting to invade his privacy, and he appreciates this a lot. After the burden sensation ends, you drink your now cold coffee, both in silence as you look away all the time, even with the curiosity to see his lips, you won’t do it. And by his words, you can guess what he works with…maybe he’s a doctor, a firefighter…a military?
—”The coffee is delicious, thanks for this.”—He feels himself going back to when his mom was alive, she was the only one who would really care about him, making him coffee…and this moment reminds him about her. It still hurts. A lot. He sighs softly, and you can say he’s thinking about something, but you won’t ask.
—”You often stay a lot of days out for work, no? Seems like a hard job.”
—”A very hard one, everything I do, changes a life. Big choices, big responsibilities…”
—”I understand…at least, I hope you can rest when you’re at home.”
—”It depends. I don’t really have any time to rest.” —You can hear Simon sigh, he’s really tired of this job. You still look away, not seeing his lips exposed a little. This moment, it’s the first one he could rest, even for a bit, not rest his body, but rest his mind.
—”And…will you stay out for days this time?”
—”Who knows.”
It’s not a question, it’s a statement. What a bad life he has, staying out for days, and when he’s back, he can’t even rest his mind. This moment, he wishes he could live like this forever, hearing your soft voice as you look around to respect his privacy, he didn’t even need to ask for, you knew somehow. Your cozy and warm apartment, it’s a lot different from his, his is almost empty, boring, sad. But yours? Had memories, life, and happiness. He wishes he could stay there forever. And he knows his duty, saving the world, saving citizens, or he could say…killing lives on exchange to save others. Making his hands dirty, so no one would need to do, only to see people like you, who has a family, a happy life, a rested mind, that’s why he does his job, so people like you can live without worries. In exchange, he sees things horrific, he hears screams in his ears that live on his mind, his body ends up tired and sore from all of this, just to see your smile on your face. He had a terrible childhood, he fought for his life, lost everything that was dear to him, in order to keep the peace in the world. In order to meet you, to see your brilliant smile. At least, he likes to think that way, this makes his life less insignificant, it’s like he’s a hero, when he knows he’s not. It’s just better to see this way, and hope it’s the truth, hope it’s not his imagination, trying to make him less guilty for everything he did all his life.
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runnning-outof-time · 11 months
Text
My Favorite Story | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @peakyswritings
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Tommy finds himself spending time in his office for other reasons once he finds out (Y/N)'s interest in the room.
Warnings: smoking
Word Count: 4024
A/N: sorry if this one got a little corny at the end…thanks Reb, for allowing me to put my love of books into a story. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"Come out, come out wherever you are, Charlie!" (Y/N) called as she wandered the halls of Arrow House, looking for the small boy whom she was a nanny to. They were currently playing hide-and-seek, and it was the four year old's turn to hide.
She went from room to room, giving each only a quick glance because her opponent was only four after all...he wasn't going to be hiding in any advanced places. She continued on, checking each of the rooms on the first floor (because that's where their playing field was) until she got to the only hallway left. This one held a more formal sitting room, and her employer, Thomas Shelby's, office. She had hoped that Charlie wouldn't have gone down this hall because she knew that her boss was particular about the people he let into his personal office. But with all of the other rooms and hallways checked, she was quickly running out of options.
She checked in the sitting room and found it empty, which left her with one final choice of where to look. The door was also cracked, so there was a good chance that he was hiding in there. Out of all of the rooms in the house...you just want me to get into trouble, don't you? she thought to herself as she approached the door. "Charlie?!" she called out while slowly opening the door, treating it like there was tripwire on the other side and it would set off if she moved too quickly.
Giggles sounded out the second she stepped into the room. They were, of course, coming from the far corner, where the floor-to-ceiling windows were. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. This clearly wasn't one of the rooms she'd been in very much, so it all seemed foreign to her.
Something that jumped out right away was the expansive book collection that lined the walls of the room. Not a single shelf seemed to be empty, and all of the books were organized into neat rows; their spines just begging for her to run her fingers across. She would have thought that she'd died and gone to heaven if she didn't know any better. But she did...and right now she needed to find the child she'd been searching for and get out before it became a personal hell.
"Where are you, Charlie?" she called out as she walked even further into the room. She wanted to smile at his adorable giggles, but the worry of getting caught, and reprimanded kept her strict to her mission of ‘find the kid and get out’.
"You can't see me, Miss (Y/N)," he said in between his giggles, which she now realized were coming from behind the curtains.
"I think I'm getting closer," she told him, only a few steps from his hiding spot now, "hmm...why could there be shoes coming out from under the curtains?" she wondered aloud as she reached out to take hold of the curtains. The giggles quieted down as the child prepared to be found. "There you are!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she pulled the curtain slightly to the side, coming face to face with the beaming boy.
"You found me!" Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.
"You had a good hiding spot," (Y/N) told him, a smile on her face, "although you should know better than to hide in your father's office," she added, her voice holding a more stern tone.
"It's your turn!" he cheered, unphased by her statement.
The sound of the front door closing rang out through the halls before anything else could be said. (Y/N) stiffened in her spot, knowing that that sound could only mean one thing...
"Daddy!" Charlie yelled as loud as he could before he took off running out of the room.
(Y/N) was still frozen. She wanted to run like hell out of the room and try to make it seem as though she wasn't just in a room that was supposed to be off-limits, but instead her feet stayed glued to the hardwood. The voice of Tommy Shelby came clearly from the foyer, greeting his son and asking him what he'd been doing while he was away.
Hearing him speak made her kick into gear, and she was able to walk the length of the room and reach the door just as she heard footsteps starting to come her way.
"I was playing hide-and-seek with Miss (Y/N)!" Charlie excitedly told his father as he led him down the hall he'd left his nanny in, "and I had a really good spot."
"Did you?" Tommy asked, intrigue present in his voice as he wondered where his son was taking him. When he looked up, he noticed (Y/N) in the process of shutting the door to his office. His eyebrows furrowed at this, trying to remember if he'd locked the door or not when he was leaving this morning.
His office was the one room in the house that he didn't want Charlie roaming about freely in. There were too many bad things held in there for a child to be going through it unattended.
"Where was this hiding spot, eh?" Tommy asked his son when they stopped a few steps away from where (Y/N) was standing.
"I hid behind the curtains!" the boy wasted no time in exclaiming, not seeing any problem in where he'd chosen to hide. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt like she was about to faint as she waited on baited breath for Tommy's reaction to Charlie's answer.
Instead of quickly deciding (Y/N)'s fate, Tommy did one of the things he does best: look to each of the people standing in front of him as he dragged his statement out until it felt like (Y/N) was going to explode from the tension.
"He was...we were in your office, Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry," she admitted, the words rushing out of her mouth before she had much time to process them. She hoped they made sense.
Tommy stayed quiet for a few more moments after she spoke, blinking a few times as he thought her words over. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he thought of the rule that had been broken. Of all people, (Y/N) should have known that Charlie wasn't allowed in his office unattended.
"I've already told him that he shouldn't be going into your personal rooms, but he..."
"Stop," his voice finally broke through her second round of explanations. She closed her mouth as soon as she heard him, holding her breath as she hoped that she'd still have a job after this conversation was over. "There's no need to explain yourself any further," he told her, his voice flat, giving her no indication of what he was thinking.
(Y/N) continued to hold her breath as she watched Tommy turn to look at Charlie. "You should know better than to go into my office when I'm not home, Charles. Next time you listen to what (Y/N) is telling you, alright?" he asked with raised eyebrows, his voice stern.
"Yes, sir," Charlie answered like he knew he was supposed to, nodding his head once.
"Good lad. Go on now...go play in your room," Tommy instructed him once he deemed the boy to have understood the message he was trying to get across.
Charlie turned to (Y/N) before going anywhere. (Y/N) immediately knew that he was waiting for her to join him, but a quick glance at Tommy to see his eyes trained on her made her realize that maybe she should stick around for a few moments longer. "I'll be up shortly, Charlie," she told the boy, who nodded before running past his father to go to his room.
(Y/N) swallowed thickly as she focused on Tommy again, waiting to see if he'd be the first to say something. The anticipation was, once again, killing her.
"He didn't touch anything, did he?" Tommy finally asked; his question being one of the last that (Y/N) expected to come out of his mouth.
"No, Mr. Shelby. Everything was in its rightful place when I entered the room," she assured him.
"Good," he nodded, happy with her answer. "You're able to go with him," he said to her then, stepping out of the way so that she'd have room to pass him.
"That's all?" she asked, the words coming out before she could stop them.
Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion upon hearing her statement. "What do you mean?"
"You're not angry at me? I'm not in trouble for entering your office?" she rattled off some of the questions that were circling through her brain.
"I'm not, no," he shook his head, "let's not make a habit of it though, eh?"
"Of course, Mr. Shelby," she nodded, still surprised by how the situation had gone. She was still expecting him to blow his lid on her...it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it to one of his employees. She wasn't about to give him a reason to do so though. "Thank you," she said then, ducking her head before she walked past him so that she could go and be with Charlie again.
Tommy took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as he moved to open his office door. He knew for certain that he would have just had a completely different conversation if (Y/N) hadn't been the one who was closing the door. He'd felt something different towards her from the moment she was hired on as Charlie's live-in nanny a little over a year ago. His son adored her, and he was happy that Charlie would grow up with someone who genuinely cared for him, and who would be able to be with him when his father was away. (Y/N) provided a much needed sense of security for a boy who'd been through so much in his short life so far.
(Y/N) brought something into the house that had been missing. Tommy often wondered if he'd grown a soft spot for her because of how she was with Charlie, or if there was maybe a little more behind the reason.
He sunk into his office chair with a sigh, looking at the picture of his late wife and son as they stared back at him. If only it had been that easy, he thought to himself before grabbing the cigarette tin so that he could take one out and roll it along his lips, but things happen for a reason, right?.
——
(Y/N) knocked on the door to her employer's office, waiting to hear if he was in before entering. His muffled voice calling for her to 'come' came through the mahogany moments later, making her turn the knob and open the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby," she greeted him as she found him sitting behind his desk.
"Hello, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the greeting, "is there something I can do for you?"
"I have Charlie's quarterly report. I figured you'd want it as soon as I was finished with it," she told him, holding the papers up into view.
Tommy nodded at her words. "Let's have a look then," he said, beckoning her over to his desk with a wave of his hand. (Y/N) nodded and walked across the room, stopping in front of his desk so that she could hand him the papers. He sat his glasses on the bridge of his nose before he began looking through them, reading the detailed report of how his son was progressing. "You think he'll be ready to start schooling?" he asked her after a few, quiet moments had passed, glancing up at her.
"I think so, sir. He's a very bright boy," she answered with a nod and a slight smile.
"And everything else seems to be in order...as far as developments go?" he asked another question.
"Yes," she nodded again, "there's even some things he's excelling at," she added, a proud smile forming on her face. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she'd come to love Charlie like he was her own. Spending nearly every day with him had created such a beautiful relationship between the two. She wouldn't know what she'd do without him.
"That's good to hear," Tommy nodded, continuing to look through the papers.
"He should be ready to start school in the fall," she shared the information that had been weighing on her mind, her smile faltering slightly, "and I'll promptly begin work on finding another placement for myself. I'll place adds in the papers, I'll..."
"No," Tommy cut her off abruptly with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head, "I want you to stay here with Charlie."
"He won't need me anymore, Mr. Shelby," she told him, a bit surprised by his interjection.
"Yes he will," he nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, "he's quite fond of you, (Y/N), and I don't want to separate that." We're all quite fond of you, he thought to himself as he studied her face. "I'll continue to pay you, and you'll continue to live here."
"You're serious?" (Y/N) checked, a slight gasp leaving her lips as a smile played on them.
"I am," he nodded again, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on the desk.
"That's so very kind of you...I will tell Charlie of this as soon as he is back from his riding lesson. He will be so thrilled. Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she expressed her gratitude, allowing the smile to take over her features.
"Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the sentiment, "you're free to go," he said then, signaling the end of the conversation.
(Y/N) nodded and turned to exit the room. She walked a few steps before stopping, the shelves of books catching her eye again. She folded her hands together in front of her skirt as she glanced around the room.
"Is there something else you need?" Tommy's voice broke the silence in the room, making her snap from her trance to turn and face him again.
"No, Mr. Shelby, I..." she trailed off, feeling slightly bashful for being caught admiring the books, "I'm just amazed by the amount of books that you have in here," she decided to tell him why she'd stuck around, a soft smile forming on her face after the admission.
"You read?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.
"I do," she nodded, "I'm slowly running out of material though, and the workers' library that you've so graciously given us only has so many books, so to see these books in here made me..." she trailed off as she realized she was sharing too much information, her face heating up as she looked down at the ground.
Tommy let the silence hang in the air for a few moments as he thought about what she'd said. "Would you want to read in here?" he asked her then, his question making her eyes shoot up to his.
"You'd let me?" she asked, her words coming out in a surprised gasp.
"Yeah," he nodded, his simple response making excitement bubble up inside of (Y/N).
"I'd really like that, thank you, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, expressing her gratitude once more. She swore that she saw the ghost of a smile flash across his lips as he nodded his head again. "I'm going to go be with Charlie now, sir...he should be returning from his lesson any moment." Tommy nodded again at her words, and she finally exited the room, her excitement boiling over as a giddy smile spread across her face. There was nothing she loved more than books.
——
It became a routine for (Y/N) to go into Tommy's study so that she could read every day after that. Tommy would be in the room sometimes, working on whatever it was that he needed to get done. She quickly came to love the peaceful silence that filled the room as they cohabitated in it. Being with him felt comfortable to her...almost as comfortable as it felt when she was spending time with Charlie.
"Do you have a favorite book?" Tommy asked out of the blue one day, his words making (Y/N) look up from the page she was reading.
"I do, yes," she responded, a smile quickly forming on her face at the thought of discussing something she liked, "it's called Walden and it's by an American author named Henry David Thoreau. He writes about being alone and immersed in the wilderness in it...it's always such a mind clearing read," she informed him of her favorite book and explained why it held that title.
"Do I have it?" he asked her, his brows furrowed in curiosity.
"I've not found it on the shelves...it's been a while since I've read it, actually," she answered, remembering clearly one of her first days spent in the room. She was rather bummed when she came up empty in her search.
"Noted," he nodded, picking up his pen and focusing his attention back on the paper in front of him. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at the conversation she'd just had, confused as to why he'd just asked her that out of nowhere. Silence persisted in the room again, so she went back to reading.
——
"You're late today," Tommy commented as he watched (Y/N) enter the room.
"Charles wouldn't settle," she answered him, a slight smile on her face as she tried to push her feelings of nervousness down. She knew it wasn't the case, but she couldn't help but feel like a child who had just been called into the headmaster's office.
"Is he fine now?" he asked her, watching as she skimmed the shelves, looking for the book she'd indulge in that evening.
"He is...he had a burst of energy before bed," she answered, her eyes still focused on the books. Nothing was jumping out at her. She'd just finished a book and was now in that weird in between where she couldn't get interested in something else.
After searching for a few more minutes, (Y/N) gave up with a sigh. She moved over to the couch and sat down, resting her head back against the cushion. "All these books and yet there's nothing to read," she mumbled to herself, staring at the fire.
"Something wrong?" Tommy questioned as he watched her carefully.
"I've got nothing to read," she answered, fully aware of how dramatic she sounded, but yet not caring.
Tommy chuckled at her statement before he stood from his chair. (Y/N) turned her head and watched him as he opened one of the desk's drawers and took something from it before he made his way over to where she was sitting. Her brows furrowed together when she noticed that what he had in his hand looked like a book. Without a word, he sat down next to her and extended his arm with the book in her direction.
"What's this?" she questioned, accepting the book from his hand.
"It came in yesterday...I figured you might want to read it," he answered, giving no explicit clues to her.
(Y/N) sent him a look of confusion, to which he responded with a slight nod, silently telling her to open the book. She listened, and she just about gasped when she opened the cover and read the title page. "You found me Walden?" she asked him, surprise was present in her features when she looked up at him once more.
"I did," he nodded, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he noticed how happy this gesture had made her.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Shelby!" she couldn't hold her excitement back, a wide smile breaking onto her face as she clutched the book close to her.
"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he said, happy that he'd made her happy. "You can call me Tommy when we're in here...you're not working," he told her then and she nodded, feeling the butterflies react to the advancement.
She eagerly opened the book then, more than ready to dive into Thoreau's words and experience his adventures again. Tommy stayed sitting on the couch, fishing the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could stick one between his lips and strike it with a lighter. He rested his head back against the couch and watched (Y/N) as she quickly became immersed in the world her book's pages held. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt as content as he did now; the last time he rather sit and do nothing instead of continuing on with his work.
"Do you have a favorite story?" (Y/N)'s question broke him from his thoughts, and when he glanced in her direction, he saw that she'd lowered her book and was looking at him.
"My favorite story?" he replied with a question. (Y/N) nodded. Tommy paused for a moment, looking at the fire as he thought it over. He then chuckled slightly before responding, "perhaps it's one that hasn't been written yet."
(Y/N) couldn't believe his reply. She bit on her lip to try and contain the smile that was threatening to form the second after she heard it as Tommy watched her intently for her reaction to his words.
"That sounded a bit soppy, didn't it?" he questioned her after a few moments had passed, taking one last drag from his cigarette before he stamped it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.
"Not at all," she answered, biting on the knuckle of her index finger to stifle the giggles that were threatening to escape as she spoke.
Tommy looked at her once he was sitting properly again, admiring her face as she did the same with him. Nothing was said as he then reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. (Y/N) froze slightly at the action, her eyes locked onto his as he gently ran the back of his hand down the line from her cheek to her jaw. His touch made her skin feel like it had been set alight.
"I'm sorry my hair isn't properly done up," she apologized, her voice much softer now.
"Don't apologize," he brushed her off, his voice's tone matching hers. He kept his hand resting on her jaw, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb as he savored the feeling of her soft skin.
(Y/N) hoped she looked calm on the outside, because all of her systems were firing in her brain. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't want something like this to occur between her and Tommy. Her feelings for him seemed to grow with each hour she spent in his study; reading books while he worked. In a way she felt like she had already been with him; like they were a couple who had already settled into a peaceful married life and liked to come together in the evenings and just spent time in the other's presence. She had to keep reminding herself that she was only Charlie's nanny.
But with the way he was acting, she may not only be that for long...
"Would you come to dinner with me?" he asked her after some time had passed.
"You'd want me to?" she shyly asked him, her eyes slightly widening at his offer.
"I would," he nodded, "maybe then I could tell you a bit more about an idea for my favorite story."
"I'd like that," (Y/N) nodded, a smile forming on her face as her butterflies went swarming again, "I'd like to hear more about your favorite story."
Little did she know that his favorite story was the one they were about to write.
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife
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sunny44 · 3 months
Text
A baby here
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader
Warnings: pregnancy talks and
Summary: now it’s real, no mistakes on the ultrasound stories.
This was a request, hope it was what you imagined.
Previous Part
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After that day, I kept thinking about how happy he was, believing I was pregnant even though I wasn't really. It made me more certain that he's the one I want to be the father of my children.
So, after that day, we decided that when we felt like it, we wouldn't use protection but it was all very laid-back—if it happened, great, but if not, that was fine too.
But eventually, it happened and I decided to do the same thing as last time, but this time, I made my stories visible only for him to see since I was going out again with my sister.
Yourusername Instagram stories
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@charlesleclerc replied to your stories
Babe, you're posting your sister's ultrasound again 😂
I felt like responding, but I ignored it and showed it to my sister, who laughed too.
We continued shopping and I stopped in front of a baby clothing store, watching and thinking that in a few months, Charlie and I would be dressing our baby in those tiny outfits.
“Why not surprise him?” She said, stopping beside me. “He did it for you when he thought you were pregnant, so now that you are, it would be nice to put a little outfit along with the test.”
“I already have an outfit; I had a onesie made like the Ferrari overalls.”
“He'll love it.”
“I'm sure he'll only dress her in that.”
“Her?” My sister asked.
“I don't know, I have a feeling it's a girl.” I touched my belly.
“Regardless of what comes, you two will be great. But Charles was born to be a girl's dad.” I smiled at her.
“Yeah, I know.” I smiled, imagining the two of them.
“Well, I think we should go; Mike said he took Charles out of the house and they're on the boat organizing things for our day tomorrow so it's the perfect time for you and me to plan a surprise for him.”
...
We organized everything for the surprise, I made his favorite pasta, set the table with candles and prepared the little box with the surprise. When he came home, he was more excited than usual, hugging and kissing me all over my face.
“What's with all this excitement?” I asked as he looked around.
“What is all this? I'm sure I didn't forget our anniversary or anything.”
“You didn't and I just wanted to surprise you.”
“Thank you love, everything looks beautiful.”He gave me a peck. “And this excitement is because I stopped by your sister's with Mike, helped him with some things for the baby's room and got excited about when we're going to decorate ours.” I held back tears and didn't tell him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I'm just hungry.” He laughed.
“I'll take a quick shower and be right down, okay?” I agreed, and he rushed upstairs.
I arranged our food on the plates, lit the candles and when I finished, he was coming down.
“Hmm, you even made my favorite pasta.”
“Come on, let's eat.”
After dinner and after declining the wine, we talked a lot until I decided it was time.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Another one?” He asked as I got up.
“Yes.”
“I also have something for you.”
“Okay, do you want to go first?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath.
“Okay.” I left the little box on the counter.
“You are the best thing that has happened in my life so far. You came into my life when I was at my worst after losing my father, and you helped me overcome and not get lost in grief. I honestly don't know what I would do without you, and I don't even want to think that this could happen someday. You are the love of my life, and I have no doubt about that.” I was already crying, and I cried more when he knelt in front of me, opened the box with a ring inside. “So, would you make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me?”
“Charlie.” I said, crying. “Of course, I'll marry you.”
He smiled, putting the ring on my finger and kissing me. He wiped the tears from my face and gave me a peck.
“What did you want to give me?” He asked after letting me go.
“Here.” I handed him the box, and he left it on the counter, opening it.
“I don't understand.” He said, taking out the Ferrari onesie from the box. “Did you want to show it to me before giving it to your sister?”
“It's not for her.” I said, taking the pregnancy test and handing it to him. “The ultrasound I posted wasn't hers; it's mine.”
“What?” He widened his eyes. “You're pregnant?”
“Yes.” And more tears streamed down my eyes, but now Charles's eyes too.
“We're having a baby?” I nodded. “We're having a baby.”
He said and hugged me tightly; I heard him sniffle and laugh with happiness, and when he let go, he kissed me.
“Did you like it? The little outfit.” He laughed.
“I loved it; it looks just like it.” He said, looking. “It will definitely be the outfit I'll put on our baby the most.”
“I'm 100% sure about that.” I smiled at him, and he folded and put the outfit back in the box.
“Can we use the guest room for the baby's room and turn the office into the new guest room, or can we move to a bigger place?” He started talking. “I heard there's a vacant apartment one floor below Max's building; we could be neighbors, and...”
“Charles, calm down; you're talking so much you're getting out of breath.” I smiled at him, and he gave me a peck. “We don't need to do anything now; we can think about it calmly.”
“I know, but I'm so excited, and I really want to buy things for the room, but we need to know where we're going to live.”
“Well, I love living here, but it's a bit small, and since we're starting a family, maybe living in a slightly bigger place would be good.”
“Well then, I'll schedule a visit to that apartment before the season starts.”
“Okay.” I smiled and gave him a peck.
“What do you think it is?” He asked, running his hand over my belly.
“I have a feeling it's a girl.”
“Well, I don't mind; whatever comes, we'll love unconditionally.” He said. “But I always saw myself as a girl's dad, so...”
“My sister said you look like a girl's dad.” He smiled.
“Well, I agree with her.” He hugged me. “How about we go upstairs and lie down?”
“I think it's a great idea.” He picked me up and took me to our room.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername Instagram stories
“This last few months have been the best ones in my life, I’m about to become Mrs. Leclerc and a mommy.”
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countlessimagines · 1 year
Text
New Guy Around [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]
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!!!!!! GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!!!
-
Summary: While helping rebuild Nowhere, you get to know the man who tried to kill your friends.
A/N: I’ve loved Will Poulter since I was 13 so of course I would fall in love with Adam Warlock <3 also my apologies for this kind of being small, my future imagines of him will definitely be longer! Enjoy for now though loves!!
MASTERLIST LINK
-
It was a normal day for you when you began to talk to Adam; wake up to little raccoons climbing all over you, eating breakfast with Rocket and Groot, and helping Drax with the kids.
It usually consisted of Drax translating what they’re saying while you tried to get them settled into new homes with people willing to take them in.
And as usual, Adam would stroll around like a lost puppy trying to figure out what to do for the day. While he made himself useful by going person to person, today he looked more confused than ever.
You still weren’t on the best terms with him, despite the rest of the guardians giving him a second chance. It didn’t help that they told you what he was trying to do before they rescued him.
With a deep sigh, you let Drax deal with the children for the day and walked over to Adam.
“Do you need something to do?” You asked him and he seemed a bit startled that you were actually talking to him.
“Uh, yes?” Adam said and immediately began to follow behind you as you made your way to your small apartment. It had been destroyed pretty badly in the fight, and you could use all the help you could get into repairing it back to normal.
While your place was livable, it still needed something to make it more of a home.
You let Adam in and instructed him on fixing one of the walls with many holes in it. He got right to work and was pretty silent the whole time. Meanwhile, you straightened up your work desk littered with plants, pots, soil, and little figurines you built for the children.
“Can I ask you a question?” Adam said, taking you out from your little flow of organizing.
You hummed a yes and waited for whatever question he was going to say. You honestly weren’t in the mood for a conversation, though.
“For all those plants on your desk, you sure don’t decorate this place enough.”
You turned sharply to him, wondering why it was relevant to ask such a thing. “Maybe if the people you had been working for hadn’t ruined my place, I would be able to put things up by now. But no, I have to fix it first.”
“All I’m saying is a flower on your table would suffice.” Adam shrugged and began to work again.
You rolled your eyes and continued to replant some of the white flowers you knew Groot loved. “If you must know I gift these flowers to people I care about.”
Adam stood up from the ground and walked over to your desk. “Will I get one of them?” He was teasing you with a smile and a question you knew was a joke.
“Maybe one day if you don’t mess it up for yourself,” you said and glanced up at him. He was significantly taller than you, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed how close he was. “And maybe, just maybe if I forgive you for trying to kill my friends.”
Adam nodded and promptly began to work again. “I will win you over.”
-
Then it became normal for Adam to arrive every morning at your door to help repair the rest of your apartment.
While he worked, you would either tend to your plants or build figurines for the children. It kept both of you busy and eventually a comfortable silence would fall between the two of you. Well, besides Rocket blasting music over the speakers.
Adam would often go to your desk, do a little nod of approval at what you were creating, then go back to working. You would tend to sneak looks at him, thinking he didn’t notice but he always did.
You hated to admit that you found the golden man attractive, and fought against the thoughts that plagued your mind about him. You didn’t want to get close to him… yet.
Adam was very helpful and extremely nice to you, and you could tell he was trying to make up for his past transgressions. You felt bad for being an ass to him, and one day you tried to make up for it. You made him a figurine of his pet that always seemed to find its way to him.
You had left it at his apartment one night and thought nothing of it, expecting nothing in return.
It was the weekend now, and Adam tended to only help on weekdays, so you didn’t expect to wake up to him at your door. He was holding something behind his back, but you didn’t ask any questions.
“Oh, um, good morning?” You said sleepily, still in pajamas.
“I wanted to stop by to say thank you for my gift.” Adam smiled and you noticed he had placed it in the pocket of his shirt.
“Of course, it was my way of saying thank you for all the help.” You did a small smile in return.
Adam shifted on his feet and pulled out a small daisy from behind his back. “I, uh, picked this for you. I know it’s not much but you always gift flowers to people so I thought you deserved one yourself.”
You grinned happily and accepted the flower with a thank you. The tiny flower meant the world to you and Adam seemed ecstatic to give it to you.
“That’s the first ever gift I’ve given someone.” Adam looked so innocent and sad when he said that, almost as if his history did haunt him.
“It’s lovely.” You gave him a hug which took him by surprise but he gladly wrapped his arms around you.
“I was wondering if you’d like to…” Adam’s words trailed off in confusion, not finding the word he needed.
“Go on a date?” You helped him out, knowing exactly what he meant.
“Yes, that,” he said with his dorky smile and awaited your answer.
“I would love that.” You smiled brightly at him, delighted that Adam ended up being a sweet person beneath all the gold.
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mashed-potato101 · 1 year
Text
Imagine This...
| Twisted Wonderland |
Cleaner Shrimps and Eels have a symbiotic relationship: The shrimp cleans the Eels’ teeth and removes any parasites, bacteria, insects, etc from the eels. In return, the eels give the shrimp protection and a free meal. Since Floyd gave you the nickname Shrimpy, you thought of an interesting idea.
Masterlist
A/N: I have finally gained motivation to write again! Be expected to see more writing soon! :D
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The two tweels rest inside their dorm room, doing their own thing: Jade was taking care of his succulents as Floyd played on his phone. Their heads turned to the door when they heard a knock. Jade opened the door to see your figure in front of him.
“Oya, Prefect? What brings you here?”
“Well, I read somewhere about this relationship between shrimps and eels. I then remembered that Floyd calls me Shrimpy and, well…”
You lift your both hands to both twins to reveal a toothpaste and two toothbrushes. The two of them gave each other a look and slowly grinned, showing their sharp teeth.
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
You are gently brushing Floyd's pointed teeth while sitting on his lap in bed. You tried to avoid scrubbing them hard. Floyd is quite pleased and relaxed; to your surprise, he doesn't move as much as you had anticipated.
 “Floyd, please stop squeezing me…”
“Sorry Shrimpy. You look cute and squeezable, kehehe~”
Next up, Jade bent down on your level as you began brushing his teeth. As a gentleman, he stood still and didn’t move a muscle.
“Tell me if I’m scrubbing too hard.”
“You are doing good, y/n. This is perfect.”
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
“GAH! Floyd!” yelped Riddle, “W-What are you doing here?”
Sure this whole thing is quite unnecessary, but you thought it was an interesting experience. But if you think this is a one-time thing, you’re dead wrong. Once you started something with the Leech Twins, there’s no going back. Whenever one gets dirty or so, both would approach you.
One time, you sat with Riddle, Trey, and Cater during lunch hour since the Adeuce duo and Grim got in trouble for sleeping in Trein’s class. While having a conversation, Floyd popped out of nowhere, startling everyone at the table.
“Eh, I’m here for little shrimpy.”
You looked at the tall eel, “Oh, uh. What’s up?”
“Something got stuck in my teeth. Can you get it out?”
You let out a sigh and reached into your pocket, revealing a floss you have. You had a feeling something like this would happen and glad you trusted your gut. The three boys at the table were shocked as they watched you flossing Floyd’s teeth in front of them. Trey is mentally punching air: He wanted to be the one to get his teeth cleaned by you.
Another time you were walking back to Ramshackle dorm after Floyd dragged you to his Basketball club. You stumbled upon Jade, who came back hiking from his club. You noticed a speck of dirt on his cheek, possibility from gathering mushrooms. You walked towards Jade who noticed your appearance and took out your handkerchief. You softly wiped his cheek, “You have something on your face, Jade.”
Jade looked at you with wide eyes then smiled, “How careless of me. Thank you, prefect.”
Floyd would occasionally drag you to Monstro Lounge, keeping you there while he and Jade were on their working shifts. He kept you either at the bar where Jade works, in a table were customers supposed to be, or in the VIP room in case they both needed you. You were either doing your homework, studying, or helping the Monstro Lounge, which Azul didn’t mind and paid you with no acknowledgment of your reasoning. Azul didn’t understand the sudden relationship between you and the tweels, and why they both grew very comfortable with you. 
“Because Little Shrimpy wants to take care of us,” Floyd replied, “Neh neh, isn’t that right, Shrimpy?”
You, Floyd, and Azul were in the VIP room during Floyd's break. You sat on Floyd’s lap, facing towards him on one of the couches as the octo-merman organize his contracts.
Azul looked at the two of you and raised a brow, “I still don’t understand why you’re spoiling on the twins lately, prefect. Care explaining?”
You only said nothing as you wiped Floyd’s face clean. Floyd let out a giggle as you squeezed both of his cheeks, smiling at his adorable face. Azul could only watch in envy, “I want to be taken care of too…”
“Get your own Shrimpy.”
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
Similar to the shrimps and eels, the tweels also returned the favor. When it comes to protection, the two always kept their eyes on you whenever you were nearby.
Once, three Heartslabyul students tried to fight you and Grim when you accidentally bumped into them. Grim put out a fighting stance as you kept apologizing to not start a fight. Out of nowhere, the same three boys went pale and ran away, apologizing out loud to you and your furry companion. Grim stood there in confusion then laughed. 
“Nyahaha! That’s right, fear the Great Grim, you cowards!”
You felt a presence or two behind you. Suspicious towards to boys’ reaction, you turned your back to see the reasoning.
“Ah. Floyd, Jade.”
The two tall eels stood in front of you with a grin. “Hello, prefect. We came by to see how you’re doing.”
Floyd then lifted you with a squeeze. “Shrimpy~ I’m bored. Let’s do something.” He dragged you somewhere, leaving Grim and Jade, who shook his head.
Remember when I said how Floyd would drag you to his basketball club? This would happen whenever he’s in a good mood. He wants you to watch him play as he shows off. One time, you grew bored and dozed off. Not aware of your surrounding, you heard your name called. Snapping back to reality, you saw a basketball coming straight toward your face. You closed your eyes, waiting for an impact, but felt nothing. You slowly opened them to see a hand in front of you: It was Floyd, who caught the ball on time. He looked at you with a smile, “Hehe. Are you alright, Shrimpy?” You only nodded and thanked him. After that, he turned towards his club members with a terrifying look. “Now which one of you threw this ball?”
It is nice to have the two twins by your side. As long as you take good care of them, they will take care of you as well.
The whole gym fell silent: Ace and the others gulp in fear as Jamil sweatdropped. The poor freshman who accidentally threw the ball could only stay muted and shaken on his spot in horror.
Fortunately for him, you persuaded Floyd that there was no need to search for them because there was a possibility that they didn’t mean it, which was true. After you convinced him by complimenting his reflex and allowing him to squeeze you, Floyd’s mood lifted and smiled widely.
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xviiigumix0 · 3 months
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GO FOR IT, FUSHIGURO ! +_+
1097 words 𓆏 gn! reader fluff, cursing, no use of capital letters.
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megumi had a big fat crush for you. and the idiot didn't even notice until nobara pointed it out.
''i don't know...'' fushiguro mumbled as sank into the couch ''everytime I see them i feel...nauseous, as if there's something on my stomach'' he closed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest ''those are called butterflies, you dumbass'' kugisaki's voice rang from the kitchen, as she finished cooking her breakfast ''hey!'' megumi frowned ''those cannot be butterflies, y/n is my friend'' he protested against nobara's teasing before quickly being cut off by her, yet again 'yeah, a friend you have a big fat crush on.' she sat on the dining table, in a way she could be seen by megumi and yuji who were on the living room across, as the first cheeks grew crimson.
''i dont wanna agree but, nobara's onto something, actually'' yuji chimed leaning forward on his seat towards fushiguro, who covered his face with one arm, shifting in the sofa ''well, even if i did like them, the fuck would i do about it?'' megumi exclaimed in annoyance. he had known you since he entered jujutsu tech, you've always been friends, but lately, something had changed. whenever he saw you he felt a fever incoming, he felt his hands trembling and and something similar to a wave of nausea, what is wrong with you he thought, all of a sudden things were just different around you, or even at the thought of you. he couldn't shake you off his mind, but yet, he did not feel so good around you, physically.
''tell them.'' nobara and itadori chimed in unison. and all of a sudden fushiguro's face flushed hot, quickly sitting up and shaking his hands ''no, no...i cant do that, were just friends and what if...'' he trailed off, his words becoming more of a ramble to himself. because, to be honest, he has thought about telling you, he has thought about it a lot, megumi already had every single scenario meticulously organized from bad to worst in his head, in his mind there's no way you like him.
''oh my god, fushiguro can you shut the fuck up? y/n likes you, i would know.'' nobara argued, taking another bite of her waffles. ''just go for it, fushiguro'' yuji encouraged, standing up next to megumi, tapping his shoulder ''and if they reject you, we can cry together'' he reassured.
''i won't cry'' megumi rolled his eyes.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
''how did i agree to this?'' he thought to himself and sighed, bouquet in one hand, chocolates in another. someway, somehow, kugisaki and itadori brought him into this. ''maybe i should just text them, tell them it was nothing...''
the three of them had organized a perfect plan for fushiguro to confess, at the end of the day, you and megumi would meet up in an empty classroom under the excuse of megumi having a plan to prank nobara (she did not agree to that). and as the sun set, he would tell them everything he felt, they even wrote script which took hours to complete since fushiguro wasn't exactly fond off his friends teasing him for his feelings for you. nobara and maki managed to discover your favorite flowers, and itadori interrogated you about the food and specially sweets you liked, saying one day he'll invite you out to eat. the plan was perfect, totally foolproof, except for one detail.
megumi's heart was pounding in his chest, cold sweat down his face, his cheeks kept getting hotter each step he took towards the classroom you two would be meeting in, his mind was going a hundred miles per hour. until he stood in front of that door. he suddenly forgot about everything he was thinking about, his mind going totally blank.
he silently opened the door, and closed it behind him as he made his way over you, holding the flowers and the chocolate box behind his back, quickly going over everything he wanted to tell you. ''y/n'' he said in his usual, stoic tone, giving no signs of nervousness or doubt. you turned around, facing him. good lord. just in that moment, he totally processed why he liked you, the way the sunset hit you skin, your eyes, your hair, it was simply perfect. and the way you spoke to him, always so nice and sweet, can a man ask for more?
''fushiguro!'' you smiled so brightly when you looked at him, there's no question of why he loved you.
he took a deep breath at his own lack of words, flushing at your sight.
''is everything goo-''
''i love you''
''what?'' you softly stuttered
''i always had, i... i planned this for you and...'' he stumbled over his words, forgetting the whole script he had planned and bringing both his hands closed to his chest as he held your flowers and chocolates. ''its not going how i planned to'' he finished, looking at you, almost vulnerable as he poured his heart out.
'' fushi, i...'' you found yourself blushing as you stared at him in surprise
''this is your you'' he extended his arms, offering the gifts, you gladly accepted them
''i thought you were avoiding me.'' you stated taking the gifts with both your hands ''i thought i did something wrong''
he opened his eyes wide, fuck.
he took a deep breath, thinking how he could explain it to you, i love you so much it makes me sick didn't seem like the best option right now.
''i'm an idiot y/n, i'm an idiot that didn't want to accept how much he like you'' he stated, putting his brows together as he leaned in closer to you, the sunset making his eyes shine ''i did avoid you, i didn't know how to...react to my feelings so i...i'm sorry, im stupid'' he shifted his eyes towards the floor, now avoiding your sweet gaze
''i...love you too, idiot'' you said, smiling to yourself, managing to get a gasp out of him. you placed the box and the flowers in a desk, and stepping closer to him, you cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look at you ''you're really stupid, but its a part of why i like you so much'' you laughed, making you touch your foreheads
megumi closed his eyes and took each wrist on his hands lovingly ''are you not mad at me'' he mumbled after some seconds ''i couldn't be'' you answered softly.
''can i be your boyfriend?''
''i would be glad to accept you as my boyfriend''
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haaiii:3 this is kinda risky to post since is my first writing post, but fuck it im doing it. also, im sorry if anything i write sounds kinda weird or out of place, english is not my first language and it was just kinda implanted into my brain in 6th grade so i never truly 'learned'.
anyways, i hope you liked it !11!!!1!
-kat / gumi :3
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
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Housewife
Part - 7
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 1
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It was the sleepover you never had. Although there was no pillow fights and a little too much Tom Cruise, you had the best time you've had in a while. "God you sound like Billy." Sydney laid back in her bed toying with her hair nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be hateful. It's not just scary movies either, you haven't seen any classics?" Tatum snickered throwing her stuffed animal in the air, catching it as it fell back down. "Well you haven't seen any new movies. It's like for the past 6 years you've been locked in grandmas basement."
"Maybe you're right." You sat on the floor organizing your bag. "Do you have any songs or movies you like that your dad or someone else in your family doesn't like?" Sydney asked genuinely curious. You thought about it for a second but your silence answered the question for them. "You've been totally brainwashed babe." Tatum quipped in a way that made you feel a little ashamed. "Y/n there's nothing wrong with liking the things you do, but you should be doing it because you like it and not because someone else does."
"Yeah you need to take notes from Syd here. She is thee feminist. Billy and her have been dating for over a year and she still hasn't slept with him." The brown haired girl looked upset at her friend's honesty. "What'd I say wrong? I wish I could do what you do. I know If I left Stu to his own devices he would just find someone else to help him out." You looked to the floor ready to throw up at a moments notice. That's what this was. You weren't special. Billy took an interest in you because he thought you would put out unlike his girlfriend. "Y/n?"
"I should break up with my boyfriend." You said flatly, all the moisture from your mouth disappeared at the realization. "Huh?" Sydney asked confused by the switch up but Tatum however was your number one cheerleader. "Hell yeah kick that bastard to the curb! What did he do?" Dylan wasn't even that good of a boyfriend back home you weren't sure why he wanted to keep things long distance. This whole discussion though made you want to change some things. "He still lives back home and I just really want to start over now."
You rang up your boyfriend and called it quits. The yelling on the phone was a surprise but Tatum quickly took the phone from you saying something you weren't really sure you were allowed to repeat. Sleeping in a house that wasn't your's was hard especially when you kept thinking about the two men you knew a little too well. Sunday morning was a blur, it consisted of cereal, the news going on about the murders, and school gossip. Eventually you and the girls made it back to Tatum bedroom.
"Hello you must be Y/n." The cop held out his hand for you to shake, which you did. "I'm Dewy." He said. His awkward presence was somehow comforting. "Ew dipshit don't flirt with my friends." Tatum complained making Sydney crack a smile. Red sprinkled his cheeks as he tried to defend himself. "You're fine. It's nice to meet you, Dewy. So you're a cop?" You point to the badge just trying to make conversation. "Here we go." Tatum whispered and Dewy smiled. "I'm actually a deputy." He tapped his badge with pride.
"He's just like Arnold Schwarzenegger... In kindergarten cop." Tatum made fun of him again almost making you crack a smile. "I think it's cool." He looked over at Sydney noticing her quietness. "How are you Syd?" She nodded with a fake smile. "Yesterday was hard so today has to be better." Dewy nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandparents." Tatum's brother looked at you as he spoke. The word "grandparents" made you look up. "Oh um... Thanks." You weren't quite sure what the appropriate response to that was. "I'm going to use the bathroom." You excused yourself leaving the three of them together.
"Why would you bring that up?" Tatum scolded. "What happened to her grandparents?" Sydney asked. Dewy leaned on the door frame looking down the hallway making sure you were out of ear shot. "They committed suicide together. Both of them took a handful of sleeping pills, and she found them." The two girls felt bad hearing the information. Tatum remembered a commotion happening at the house down the street but she never knew what exactly had happened. Just that you moved in shortly after.
You walked back to the bedroom once you dried your face off from the water you threw onto your skin. "Well I've got to get going. Do you girls need anything?" He asked and everyone said no. Dewy left with a wave shutting the door behind him. "Sorry he's not very socially aware." Tatum apologized but you just nodded. "It's fine. Really." They didn't believe you but they dropped the discussion anyhow.
The day went on with Tatum doing your nails and trying on half the clothes you brought over. You offered Sydney to join in but she declined. Later on you and Sydney talked about what books you had read which Tatum was not interested in at all. It was much harder keeping them two entertained than it was with Billy and Stu. There didn't seem to be much common ground between the girls. You slept much easier than the night previous. Maybe you were finally settling in.
"Wake up girls." Tatum's mom beat on the door making everyone but Tatum jump up. You groaned as Sydney went to wake up her friend. You pulled a pair of bell-bottoms from your bag along with an old band shirt. It wasn't what you'd normally wear to school but you didn't have the time nor energy to doll yourself up. "I like the grunge look on you." You felt partially offended by Tatum's compliment because there was nothing "grunge" about your look. The outfit consisted of jeans, a shirt, no makeup, paired with hair you hadn't had the chance to fix.
"You look comfortable." Sydney chirped meaning well. Their back handed compliments made you want to crawl in a hole. You sat down with the girls in the kitchen, quickly eating breakfast before Dewy came to take you to school. You offered to just get your car but Dewy refused saying he was fine to drive. The thought about skipping the day completely had crossed your mind multiple times.
The moment the car stopped at school you said goodbye to your friends. "I've got to go grab some things from my locker I'll catch you at lunch." You didn't give them time to protest. Unfortunately for you Stu was at your locker waiting patiently for your appearance. "Yo Betty Crock- Pants?" You weren't in the mood for either one of their antics. "You look lovely today." He said like a kid with a crush. Stu swayed back and forth on his heels waiting for you to acknowledge his existence. "Did I do something wrong?" You slammed your locker shut making him jump.
"I'll take that as a yes." You turned to walk away but it never did any good with Stu. "I can't fix this if you don't tell me what's wrong." You stopped, looking at him with tears stinging your eyes. "We can't do this Stu." You pulled him to the side out of everyone's way. "You and Billy are my friends." The emphasis on friends made his heart shrink a little. "I would hope so after everything-" He tried to crack a joke to make you laugh but he didn't realize you felt like the joke was on you. "Would you just listen!" You cut him off grabbing the attention of some bystanders. You waited a moment for people to pass by before speaking.
"This cannot happen. Me, you, and Billy, can no longer happen. No more hanging out at my place, no more ambushing me in public bathrooms," He smiled at that not being able to take a single thing seriously. "No more hanging around at my locker. Tatum and Sydney are sweet girls who don't deserve what we did to them. As long as they are in the picture I'm not going to be, understand?" The bottom line was you weren't a plaything and you weren't a homewrecker. Stu however took it the way he wanted to.
"I understand. I'm sorry if we overstepped." You were ready for him to get on one knee and embarrass you into forgiving him. This was a nice change. "Thank you Stu." He smiled. "Will you still hang with us at lunch?" Damnit. "No Stu, I won't. I've got to make new friends. Since day one all I've known is you and Billy. And now that I've gotten to know Sydney and Tatum, I realized I need my own thing." The bell rung ending the conversation prematurely. "See ya Stu."
"Shit, Shit, Shit," Stu repeated the word over and over like a small prayer. He walked the halls quickly finding Billy's first period class. Stu waved like a mad man trying to get his friend's attention through the window. "May I go to the bathroom?" Billy asked already getting up from his seat. "You may Mr. Loomis." The boy wasn't too happy with the sudden distraction. "This better be good." Billy started walking towards the bathroom with Stu in tow.
"Y/n is dropping us." Billy stopped in his tracks at the confession. Calmly he took a breath saving his anger for a secluded spot. He picked of his feet once again heading towards the restroom. Stu was terrified not only of losing you but also of his friends short fuse. The moment the bathroom door was locked he exploded. "What the fuck do you mean?" Billy cursed as he pushed open each stall checking for anyone. "She said it was wrong what we were doing to Tatum and Syd and as long as they were in the picture she wasn't going to be." Billy grabbed Stu's shirt by the collar. "This shit wouldn't have happened if you didn't call Sydney the other night."
He pushed his friend backwards letting Stu's back hit the wall. "How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it man?" Billy didn't believe him. Stu was always doing something he shouldn't be. "We'll go back to our plan. Do everything exactly the same way just a little later than we hoped." Billy breathed out thinking of how to pull this off. "Syd's mom's anniversary was Saturday."
"You think I don't know that dipshit?" He pointed in Stu's face. Running his hands through his hair he tried to calm down. "Neil killed Casey and Steve on Wednesday night. That's when he told Syd he was leaving town." Stu just nodded along listening to Billy. "With all the publicity of the murders he wasn't able to kill anyone's else so he calls his daughter Friday night."
"How does he know she's with Tatum?" Billy paced back and forth. "Neil's been stalking her because she's his next victim. He sees Syd leave his house with Tatum. Anyway he scares the shit out of his daughter Friday night laying low till Monday. Ghostface will make a guest appearance today to meet Syd. Himbry will have to close shop because of the killer. You'll tell everyone you're throwing a party to celebrate the break. Invite Syd and Tatum since Y/n is such good friends with them now she'll have to go with them."
It was like watching a genius at work. Stu really believed Billy could pull it off. "Neil kills Himbry. They went to school together back in the day it could be old revenge. At the party I'll take care of Tatum first but you'll have to send her to the garage and make sure no one goes with her." Billy looked at Stu waiting for him to promise to do his job. "Yes Sir." Billy looked at his boots piecing together the rest of the puzzle. "Neil kills Tatum after that I show up to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend. I'll take Syd up to your room that's where you'll have to "kill" me. You'll grab Sydney and bring her to the kitchen. We'll reveal everything blow her daddy's brains out and then Syd is the cherry on top of a really fucked up cake."
It was a good plan in Stu's eyes. "Where does that leave Y/n?" Billy smiled "She's going to rescue us. Neil's dead and so is his daughter. We've been stabbed left for dead but poor Y/n comes along and calls the cops helping us live to see another day. All we have to do is hit her hard enough to keep her out for awhile. Which means before I show up late I'll need you to get her alone in a room. I'll show up dressed in black and knock her unconscious. You'll go back to the party and I'll show up fashionably late."
"I could kiss you." Stu said happily throwing out his arms. "Don't make me stab you early." Billy threatened. Stu's smile dropped. "Now I'm going back to class I'll see Syd later today just keep being your bubbly self. You got that?" Stu nodded happy everything was going to work out after all.
"It was just some sick fuck having a laugh." Tatum tried to convince Sydney. "She's right Syd I mean those assholes were running up and down the hallways with masks." Sydney shook her head at you sure of what she saw. "It was him. I know it." You walked down the steps right next to your friends. "From now on you are not to be alone. You pee, I pee." Tatum added. Stu ran up spouting some gibberish giving you and the girls a flower. "Darling, I don't know what you did Sydney but on behalf of the entire student body we say thank you!"
Tatum tapped her boyfriend with the flower. "Stop it Stu." She gritted trying to tone down his behavior. "You know I say," He picked Tatum up throwing her over his shoulder. The very cute display made you advert your eyes. You didn't know why you were upset this is exactly what you asked him to do. But it still somehow felt he was going out of his way to upset you.
"Impromptu party tonight, my house. To celebrate this little scare storm, what do ya say?" You and Sydney kept walking while Stu trailed behind. "Are you serious?" Sydney questioned the insane kid. "Parents are out of town." He smacked Tatum's ass causing her to sqeek with a laugh. "If this little vixen doesn't invite the whole world we'll be fine. Mix in with the gathering, mix in with friends." He sat Tatum down letting her talk to Sydney.
You watched Stu trying hard to convince Sydney to go. "What do you say Syd? I mean Pathos could have it's perks. Y/n's never been to one of Stu's parties." Tatum said dragging you into it. "I don't really have party clothes plus what if the killer is there?" You questioned. "I'll totally protect you. Yo I am so buff, I got you covered girl." Tatum laughed at her boyfriend. Sydney whined not liking the idea at all. "I mean come on Syd. For me? It could be fun." Stu proceeded to kiss Tatum's neck bringing back all too fresh memories. "Okay, whatever." Tatum squealed.
"Nice!" Stu said "Make sure you girls bring some food when you come over." Stu left you and your friends to go run off somewhere. "I think I'm just going to head home for tonight." Sydney piped up. "No way. If I'm going you have to go." You threw your head back with a groan. "I don't even have clothes for a party." Tatum spun around. "Now that I can help with."
You raised your hand in protest. "You're not dressing me up like a prostitute." Sydney smiled knowing exactly how Tatum would've dressed you. "You're no fun." Tatum teased as you walked back to Dewy's car. Sydney looked at the ground while you and Tatum discussed what you'd wear. Something wasn't sitting right with her but she wasn't sure what it was.
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(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)
Part 8
Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant
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cenorii · 8 months
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In 2021, dirty secrets about the use of bioweapons are revealed inside BSAA + there are direct hints in Umbrella Corps that Wesker is alive. I just combine the two puzzle pieces together in my head. So let's look at another interesting post-2009 scenario.
AU - ELEGY OF FREE RADICALS
Chris was once careless about eliminating Wesker. Knowing his nature, he still didn't check Wesker's presumed place of death properly. Relying on his own luck, Chris left the place of battle and never returned there. But he had to go back. It has become his mistake.
Chris reported the scene of the victory to the BSAA. Rotten BSAA could have used that data in any way they wanted. Like going back there and checking out the volcano. They could have indicated on the documents that they were headed to clear the area of the remnants of Uroboros, but in fact to search for Wesker's remains to get rich off the sale and study of his unique biomaterial. But what they didn't expect was to find him alive. Badly injured, helpless, but somehow alive.
Taking advantage of the weakness of the still living organism, he was taken to the secret laboratory of the headquarters. Now Wesker could be under the supervision of BSAA scientists for a very long time. He's much more useful alive than dead. His knowledge, skills, all of it could be utilized. And it was also possible to conduct endless experiments on his unusual body... Testing the limits of his abilities, testing various poisons, looking at the lethality of their new weapons, and etc. He was once again a puppet, as he had once been in Spencer's hands, from which he had miraculously escaped.
The BSAA kept Wesker's abilities under strict control, he was trivially stripped of any PG67A/W injections, replaced with an alternative that was only necessary for his body to regenerate damage after the battle in the volcano, but didn't provide any additional benefits. So he would remain weak but healthy.
Another remedy was also applied to him, eliminating the consequences of merging with the Uroboros, which modified his body in a volcano. It was discovered in 2011, after the events of Revelations 2. It was rude to call it just a serum, it was something more, because it did not remove the virus itself from the body, but brought it into a more stable form, allowing Wesker to take his ordinary appearance. With him, in this form, it became easier for employees to work.
The BSAA restored Wesker, stripped of his strength, any dignity, as well as his freedom. He was bedridden for several years and various weapons were tested on him, then recorded how his body reacted and at what rate it recovered. An immobilized lab rat, a deserved punishment for someone like him? Perhaps. It was thanks to his "sacrifice" that the anti-regeneration weapon was invented, which had once come in handy for Chris in the battle against Mold.
Just think… how many things could the BSAA have invented using the infinite resources of Wesker's body? He was terrified of these thoughts. Terror at the realization that he had no chance of escape, that he was trapped here forever, that he would continue to have his organs taken out of him and be forced into endless pain. He reflected that he hadn't actually managed to do so many contradictory things to deserve eternal torment. And it's better to let him die than to endure this hell. But his own body played a cruel joke without dying. It was an expert on regeneration. His pride was trampled when he begged for death.
BSAA absolutely did not spend any painkillers and sleeping pills on Wesker, absolutely all experiments were carried out when he was conscious. They had already spent a lot of money on him during his recovery, it was a waste to spend even more on someone who could repair any of his damage.
Pain and terror haunted him for six years. He cursed what he used to idolize in himself.
And then he was forced to work for them. In 6 years he had grown accustomed to the constant pain and had already learned to see himself as nothing, sending his consciousness into free floating. Deep in his thoughts, he created a place where he learned to ignore the endless physical torment. But when he was put on his feet and pulled out of this place… Wesker was even more devastated.
It was unusual for him to suddenly return to normal work, all this created a mess in his head, reality seemed to be nonsense. The usual paperwork after hell? Are you kidding me?!
Morally, he was destroyed. His psyche was severely damaged. Wesker from the "torture room" was locked in a cell that looked like a combination of a room and a laboratory. For fear of being put back on the operating table again, he dutifully began to work and develop various things that BSAA would use in the future. But it wasn't life either. Weakened body, lack of abilities... he wanted to die, but he couldn't afford it, because he was practically immortal. Although, even if he used a weapon that stops regeneration on himself... he still wouldn't kill himself.
«Not here»
«Not like this»
At times he thought he was balancing on the fine line between normalcy and insanity. He saw people at best once every two weeks who came to check on his work and were not at all talkative. Wesker had always been convinced he didn't need company, but 12 years without socializing had made him question his beliefs.
Once a month he was provided with food, and then carelessly, because he didn't need food. His body, experiencing hunger, could devour itself and regenerate immediately.
The only reason he was given a room and released from the operating table was because the organization wanted to see what he could offer them. Of course, they didn't stop studying his unusual body and conducting experiments, but Wesker was already in charge of the process himself. Independently amputated his limbs and so on. Only closer to 2019 were these experiments stopped, because they had extracted all possible benefits from his body.
Wesker remotely, horrified, realized that thanks to his body he would live much longer than the average person, if not forever. Which led him to believe that he would be kept in this cage for centuries. BSAA would close, others would take their place, find him, torture him again. And so on in a circle, for all eternity, as long as human society and greed existed. This had to end... but how? A plan was needed, a complex one that could not be unraveled.
His life and existence was a BSAA mystery from 2009-2021. For 12 long years he was not allowed out of the walls of this cell.
Of course he wanted to escape, he had many unrealistic thoughts in his head about it. He was also interested in meeting Chris, aged, changed. To see his reaction, genuine shock rather than the anger he'd reacted to Wesker's earlier 'resurrections'. Is Chris even still alive today? What year is it now?
But this life couldn't go on forever, the BSAA was cracking at the seams. In 2021 it was revealed that they were using B.O.W. soldiers, something Chris couldn't ignore. So he headed over to European headquarters to deal with it - right where his nemesis was located, a complete headache. Chris couldn't accept that his organization, which was fighting biological weapons, would use them. It didn't fit in his head. He had long ago stopped trusting the BSAA, but this was the last straw.
Arriving there, Chris did not expect to meet someone in the basement laboratories whom he had buried a long time ago.
What was he going to do with him? Shoot him in the head without any thought? That would have been logical and in Redfield's character, but over the years he'd stopped being a complete hothead, learned to think first and then act. Gained a little equanimity.
It will turn out that it was Wesker who was involved in the creation of the B.O.W. in BSAA. Especially since these soldiers are improved clones of Chris himself. Who else could have come up with such an idea? Only to a man who thought Chris was "one of his best men".
For the past 6 years, Wesker has been forced to be an advisor to BSAA, sharing all the knowledge and ideas. He might have been able to pull it all off, if only to get back at that organization, turning Chris' anger on it, and turning his attention to himself at the same time. After all, only this "one of his best men" was the only one who could save him. Yes, Wesker was pathetic. He felt he wasn't even worthy of his former name, being so pathetic as to enlist the help of his enemy. But it was the only option. There was no more talk of pride.
However, it didn't matter now, Chris had come here to punish the founders, so their prisoner, their chief counselor, might prove to be the best informant. And an ally.
Natural intuition made Chris believe his former enemy, the biggest manipulator of them all. As if he was definitely not lying now, because he was in such a big asshole that he couldn't let his words sound unconvincing. Earlier, Chris would have easily recognized his lies, but not now. Right now, completely honest and dull eyes were looking at him from beneath translucent glasses. So damn pitiful that Chris automatically assumed the role of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress.
Chris was quickly combine the information together in his head: the situation, the physique, the setting... His opponent had been held hostage by his own ambition, it couldn't help but bring a smile to Redfield's face. But he hid it in his thoughts, because he deemed it inappropriate once he read Wesker's imprisonment papers. Chris had some free time to devote to the situation.
He read about what had been done to Wesker. About all the torture. And Redfield clutched his head, when he got to the description of his ammunition that he'd used against Mold a couple years ago. He was terrified that this weapon had been created in such a gruesome way... through the suffering of his enemy, who, even considering all his guilt, didn't deserve all this. Chris felt that Wesker should have died and rid the world of himself rather than suffer endlessly. Even for him, he thought it was inhumane.
The first thing Wesker said to Chris was: - Now you've taken on the role of captain of the «alpha» too. This jabbed Chris slightly, but he noticed how the hostage said it without malice. Redfield involuntarily remembered 1998, the mansion, the betrayal, the deaths of the Alpha and Bravo group...
The compartment Wesker was in was to him both an office and a laboratory, and a room. A kind of prison, which he could not leave on his own because of his weak physical condition. He was weakened by the daily injections putting his viruses inside his body to sleep.
Releasing him and examining him at arm's length, Chris made sure that in the state Wesker was in now, he posed no danger, just an ordinary disgust. He resembled only a pale copy of his former self.
The BSAA operative dragged him carelessly behind him like some sack of garbage, concerned only with keeping the information in his head intact. But in his mind Chris still held images of what the BSAA bastards were doing here to Wesker. He didn't want to feel sorry for him, but he couldn't control it, Redfield had never been heartless. Initially he had only cared about information, but it wasn't long before he didn't even notice how protective he had become of him. As if a friend, which in truth, he never was. His captive's behavior was different from what Chris remembered. It was different, like a throwback to the past. Perhaps 12 years of imprisonment had had that effect on him.
He was docile, which wasn't surprising, since Wesker had been treated like an object by the organization, and the operating table had been a good teaching moment. Chris couldn't believe that after so many years of hell his former enemy's mind was still intact, that he hadn't lost his mind and was capable of dialog.
Time passed unnoticed during the proceedings with the BSAA about B.O.W., eventually the organization was destroyed and all its equipment, along with Chris's squad, transferred to TerraSave.
Chris during all of this had to sign Wesker into the Hound Wolf Squad as either a prisoner or an advisor. To keep him from getting shut down again, that was the deal. He helps them, they help him. Over time, he was getting back to normal. The food and good company had done their job.
However, Chris didn't know that his new ally hadn't lost all of his strength, and the ones he had were sleeping under the influence of the medicament. But time passed, the medicament slowly stopped working without new doses, and Wesker understood it perfectly well. And felt it. It didn't affect his appearance, so he could play his role for as long as he wanted. But was it a role? Sure he was portraying a courtesy that annoyed Chris to the point of nausea, but it was partially sincere. Having broken with his past at the fault of the BSAA, Wesker could only hope to find a new purpose. After all, as Spencer had raised him, there is no life without purpose.
Therefore, was it so necessary for him to betray Hound Wolf Squad? Would it be beneficial to him? Chris is a strong point. He has no doubt that if he kills Redfield - another will take his place, and will definitely get him into the basement wheel of samsara. So Wesker had no grand plans yet. After all, any of them would be doomed to failure as long as there was anyone in the world capable of resisting.
But Chris risked to give him a goal, which, however, called impossible - to become the best version of himself. To help the Hound Wolf Squad, to work with TerraSave, to use his knowledge for something other than endless failed experiments. Stop being Spencer's failed experiment. The only option Chris would give him a chance at.
Those words stuck in Wesker's head for a long time. Mentioning the old man was like a low blow. Chris knew where it hurt the most.
It had been several years since Wesker had joined Redfield's team. All that time he'd been hiding his abilities so as not to lose the fragile trust in his person. But the truth couldn't help but surface one day....
On one of the missions connected with B.O.W., the blade of an exploding helicopter blew off Wesker's head, and then another piece of debris cut his body in half.
But he didn't die.
Chris was enraged. With resentment, he felt cheated. What else could he have expected?
First, the black mass connected the body, restoring functionality to it, and then this silent carcass picked up the head. It was slow. It looked helpless and creepy. Chris's squad was on edge, but he ordered to wait. The black substance emerged from the base of the neck and attached the head to itself, then the calm expression on the reanimated head changed to horror. Was he in unbearable pain from the newly received oxygen? Or from the fusion of tendons?
When Wesker recovered, he couldn't at first think of a response to Chris' "explain yourself!"
Everyone's fragile trust collapsed, but not Redfield's, for he knew that if his former adversary had wanted to betray him, he would have betrayed him long ago, he wouldn't have let himself be so ridiculously exposed. Especially after all the torture he'd endured. Chris could understand why Wesker was hiding his powers. Redfield had stepped on the same rake of trust again, convincing himself that he had everything under control.
Wesker, ever since the prototype had merged with Uroboros in his body, had acquired a number of flaws, chief among them an unbearable sensitivity to pain. The only time he could not feel pain was when he was BSAA injected with force restraining drugs. But without them, all the disadvantages came out.
Whereas before he could recover from any wound without feeling anything but minor damage, now the pain was so obvious that every regeneration was accompanied by agony. Especially if it was a burn, for heat is a major weakness for Uroboros. The healing places on his body, after that helicopter situation, hurt like hell.
He was closer to human now than he had been before, and Chris seemed to realize that. That was why he hadn't killed him a second time, but had accepted him back into his squad. It was not only a gesture of goodwill, but also a precaution, a way to keep a dangerous object as close to him as possible so he wouldn't do anything.
How long will they have to cut off the heads of hydra in the face of the creators of bioweapons?
- Why do you trust me, Chris?
- I still believe that anyone can become the best version of themselves. We should prioritize fighting for the future to give someone a quiet life that you and I have been robbed of. I know about Project W. Together we can stop new organizations and prevent many tragedies like this from happening again. And you can help us, Wesker. BSAA took away your choice, but I'm giving it to you now.
Wesker at first couldn't find the words to respond, but after a moment he barely audibly whispered: "Thank you."
From a man who never thanked anyone, Chris was shocked to hear that. And he was proud of him. Had he forgiven him? No, his deeds were unforgivable. But Chris wasn't the kind of man who would turn his back on his one chance to make things right, to make things right on Earth, to save someone's life. In this truce, he sees a future that's bright for everyone.
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