#but like who will give a fuck at that point when it comes months after girl we are tired
Text
roommates ; lando norris + part four
In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!
When you wake up that following morning, you’re confused for the first few seconds about which room you’re in. This is not the guest room from Lando his apartment. Slowly the morning fussiness inside you clears up. The events from last night come back to you. Lando was screaming and making sounds all night, which caused you to check it out. He had a nightmare. You awoke him. After another stupid remark from Lando, you decided to watch some television with him - in his bed. Did you fall asleep in his bed? Shit. Carefully you look next to you. When you look and notice Lando, who’s still peacefully asleep, you realize that you did fall asleep next to him.
The part that sits with you the most right now? It feels weirdly comfortable to lay next to Lando in his bed. It scares you. The wise thing to do is to get out of his bed, get back into your own and forget about this situation. Although you already know that Lando will bring it up eventually. You don’t want to leave his warm bed, but you don’t see another option right now. So, carefully you turn yourself around and move away from Lando. It’s only now that you notice how close you were laying to Lando.
When you get away from the blankets and take your first move to get out of the bed, you’re quick to be stopped. It’s Lando who’s stopping you. He’s quick to grab your arm and to stop you from leaving his bed. “Not yet,” he softly mutters while pulling you back to himself. You notice how much deeper his voice is in the morning. Fuck, his voice is hot like this. Slowly you give in and move yourself back underneath the blankets. You know that this isn’t smart, but you can’t help yourself. Lando is quick to get you into his arms. It feels weird to lay into his arms like this, but in some even weirder way it also feels really nice. Lando wraps his arms around your body.
You allow yourself to fall back asleep in Lando his arms. This is an one time thing, you keep reminding yourself. This can’t happen again. That means you better enjoy it for how long it lasts. Lando however tries to stay awake this time. When he notices your closed eyes and peaceful deep breaths, he can only focus on how to get you in his bed again. He needs to experience this more often. Or even better, this should become the new normal.
Eventually Lando can’t stop himself from falling asleep again as well. Before closing his eyes and giving in, he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. You have turned yourself completely into his body. Lando feels his underwear tighten around his crotch. Feeling your body onto his own like this will probably be an image that he won’t forget about quickly.
When Lando wakes up again, you have left his bed already.
+++
“You’re actually insane,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Who in their right mind is going on a date with their ex boyfriend?”
“It’s not a date,” you sigh with the same annoyed tone as Lando was using earlier.
“Not a date?” Lando asks you sarcastically, he almost laughs at you for the remark. “You’re going to a restaurant to have dinner with your ex boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a date to you?”
“Why do you even care,” you ask Lando with a raised voice. The annoyance is obvious in your voice. You know that Lando does have a point, but you can’t tell him that. Right? Earlier today your ex called you. Which seemed weird to you, since the last time you spoke to him was a couple months back during the break up. He told you that he still had some of your stuff which he wanted to give back to you and that he wanted to apologize. You have no idea what stuff he still has of you, but you can only hope that it’s the sweater you have been missing for a while. It was the most logical idea to meet up somewhere. The worst idea was to invite him into Lando his apartment and you also didn’t want to go to his place, so you settled for a restaurant. Exactly like your ex wanted.
“Why shouldn’t I care?” Lando asks you back.
“Because you don’t care about me,” you are quick to slap back.
Lando can’t stop himself and lets out a loud laugh. It almost scares you. “You’re really stupid,” he tells you while laughing.
“Great!” You tell angrily. Now he really crossed a line with you. “Stupid, insane, what else do you think of me?” You ask him with the same angry tone in your voice.
Lando holds back a lot of words right now. It takes a lot from him to not start to scream at you what he actually thinks about you. What a stupid question. It’s not like he thinks that you’re insane and stupid, but he does think that about your idea of going to dinner with your ex. Normally Lando thinks you’re the most beautiful, smart, kind and many positive things more, girl he knows. Although he does think you’re a bit bratty, but in some way that only makes you more attractive in his eyes. He wants nothing more then to fuck all of that brattiness our of you, only for it to come back every time again. That would be the best.
“Sorry,” Lando sighs with a more calmer tone in his voice then before, “I don’t think you’re stupid and insane, okay? It’s just that I think that this idea is pretty stupid and insane. He’s your ex for a reason, you can’t date him again.”
“You’re not deciding things like that for me,” you tell him angrily. After those words you turn yourself around and start walking towards your own room. You’re really not in the mood to stay with Lando any longer right now. An annoyed groan leaves your throat, it’s not like you think this is a date - although you have no idea how to call it otherwise. And it’s really not like you want to get back with your ex, but you do want to stay civil with him.
“Don’t walk away,” Lando yells after you.
“Why not?” You yell back, “So you can insult me even more?”
After those words you slam the door of your bedroom shut with a loud bang. Lando sighs when he hears the door slam. He almost slaps himself. How is it that every time things seems to be going alright between you and him, he finds a way to fuck it up? He thinks about following you and trying to apologize, but eventually it seems a better idea to let you cool down for a bit.
In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for later tonight. You have no idea what to wear and how much time to spend on your make up. Of course, you do want to look nice, but you don’t want your ex to think that you did that for him. This is complicated. Eventually you pick out a dress and put on a light make up look. You still have some time left. Since you’re not in the mood to clash with Lando again, you decide to relax for a bit on your bed and watch some TikTok’s.
When you do come back in the living room an small hour later, it doesn’t take long before Lando his frustrations comes back up again. He feels himself getting mad all over again. This time it’s caused by the way you’re looking. Why are you dressed this nicely for a date with your ex? He starts to doubt if you do want him back. It sure does seem like it. Lando can’t look away from you. Earlier today he called you insane, but now he’s pretty sure that he’s the insane one. All because of you. You’re making him lose his mind.
You notice the way Lando is looking at you. The frustration is clearly displayed on his face. Is he still mad? You felt like you were calmed down about it, but seeing Lando staring at you like this makes your frustration come back as well.
“You look good,” Lando eventually tells you with an annoyed tone. Before you can ask about his tone or thank him for the compliment (?), he’s already talking further. “Too good,” he adds. You want to ask what he means, but when you see the notification coming up on your phone you decide to let it be. Your ex is already here.
“I’m leaving,” you tell Lando, “Bye.”
Lando hurries himself after you when you walk away from him again. Quickly he grabs your hand. “Just be careful alright?” He asks you.
His behavior confuses you. What does he mean with this? It’s just your ex, not some criminal. Or is this still because he thinks you’re stupid? “I wonder if I can,” you bite, “I mean I’m pretty stupid after all.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Lando sighs annoyed, “Just call or text me if you need help.” After those words you’re quick to walk away from Lando. Everything about him confuses you. Fuck. Maybe you’re getting insane, Lando makes you lose your mind.
+++
This day won’t get any better. Your ex boyfriend did bring your lost sweater, but that’s the only positive thing so far. He’s going on and on about how much he misses you. At first it was kinda sweet, but now it’s just annoying. You didn’t break up with him without a good reason, so you don’t feel tempted to act out on his pleas. Not that he asked about getting back together, but you suspect that the question can come anytime.
Maybe Lando was right, this is weird. You should have bought a new sweater instead of doing this. He did already send you multiple messages, maybe you should text Lando to help you out of this situation? You almost laugh at your own dumb idea. Lando will probably text back something in the lines of: “I told you so.” He isn’t going to help you with the mess you created yourself.
It’s a shame Max isn’t around. You try to remember why your brother isn’t in Monaco right now, but you don’t remember the reason right now. You do however remember that you really need to meet up with him soon, you haven’t seen him for a bit.
“Don’t you miss me as well babygirl?” Your ex asks you. His questions shakes you out off your earlier thoughts. No, you don’t miss him. That isn’t the strange thing you’re feeling right now. It’s his last word. Babygirl. He never called you that before. He wasn’t one for nicknames like that. Since when is he calling you babygirl? It feels weird.
It takes you a short minute before you can say why it feels weird. Normally it’s Lando who calls you babygirl. Shit. Is this really feeling weird because you’re used to Lando?
“Please don’t call me that,” you politely tell your ex. He gives you a strange look. “Earlier you begged me to give you a cute nickname?” He asks confused.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “When we were in a relationship.”
His remark reminds you about why you broke up with him the first place. Yes, he was your boyfriend but often it didn’t feel like it. He was always too busy to make time for you. Which wasn’t that bad, until you noticed that he had time for everyone else. The romance just wasn’t there. When you thought about your relationship after the break up, you were quick to realize that it was a more friendly situation then a relationship.
And maybe, really maybe, your meeting with Lando confused you as well and made the breakup happen sooner. When you first saw Lando, he made you feel something that you never felt around your then-boyfriend. But that will no one ever know.
“But I do want to get back with you in a relationship,” your ex confesses, “I can make more time for you, I can figure out some cute nicknames and we can be together again.”
“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you carefully reply. Everything he just said, is nothing you want. You don’t want to spend more time with him, get his attention and certainly don’t want to be together again.
“What do you mean?” Your ex asks you confused, “That’s what you wanted right? More attention, a more loving relationship?”
“Wanted yeah,” you tell him, “I don’t want that anymore.”
“Then what do you want?” He asks you frustrated.
“I don’t know what I want,” you confess, “but I do know that it’s not you, sorry.”
You tried to tell him so polite as you could, but apparently it made him still angry with you. Fuck. This really was a bad idea. You notice another text from Lando popping up on your screen. Should you text him back? You unlock your phone and read Lando his texts.
Lando Norris: I meant it. Text me if you need me.
Lando Norris: How are things going?
Lando Norris: Babygirl?
Lando Norris: Just tell me if you’re okay
Since when does Lando care this much about you? It makes you shiver, but not in a bad way. That’s not a good sign. You want to reply to his texts, but your ex is already snatching your attention away again.
“Who are you texting?” He asks you annoyed. Before you can answer, he’s talking further. “Is it your new boyfriend?” He continues to ask.
“New boyfriend?” You ask confused. Does he think you have a new boyfriend? Why would he even think that.
“Yeah. Maybe it’s that Lando guy, that wouldn’t surprise me.”
The venomous tone in his voice reminds you about the other reason you broke up with him. The jealousy. It’s crazy now you think about it. On the on hand you were having the feeling that the two of you were barely friends, let alone lovers, but on the other hand your ex was always jealous. You remember multiple fights between the two of you, even one about Lando. You almost laugh if you think about telling your ex who you’re living with right now, but you don’t tell him. You don’t want to fight.
“I don’t have a new boyfriend,” you tell your ex.
“Then why won’t you want to get back with me?” He asks you angrily.
You don’t like the angry tone. He has no right to act like this. “I don’t like you like that anymore,” you tell him annoyed, “and I don’t even know if I ever did.” The last part of your sentence wasn’t smart, but you feel yourself getting mad as well.
“Bitch,” you ex hisses angrily.
For a few seconds you doubt about your next move should be. Are you going to get into an argument with your ex or are you leaving? His words make you mad, but you know it isn’t smart to get into an argument with him here. Maybe this is the moment to text Lando, he offered to help you right? Maybe he can pick you up?
“I’m going to pay for my part and then I’m leaving,” you tell your ex eventually, “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about left.” In the mean time you pull out your phone again, you open your chat with Lando and quickly type something.
y/n: can u come get me? I’m at Amù
You press send, but you have no idea if the text is actually being send. The screen has turned black. Shit, you didn’t even know that your battery was low. What if the text didn’t send? With an annoyed sigh you get up from the table and walk towards the server so you can pay for your part. Then without looking back at your ex, you leave the place. In all irony it’s also starting to rain. What a shitty day.
Within the second that Lando got your message, he’s in his car. The restaurant you’re at isn’t that far from his place thankfully. He tries to get to you as fast as he can manage. Breaking multiple traffic laws in the mean time.
“Come on let me take you home,” your ex says angrily. He’s standing outside with you, much to your annoyance. You don’t want him to be here. It’s pouring rain in the mean time. You realize that you must look awful now. Your dress is sticking against your body, your make up is probably ruined. You can only hope that there isn’t anyone around who knows your name or brother. The Instagram posts are already formed in your head.
“No,” you reply.
“So you’re going to stand here stupidly?” He continues to ask.
“I’m getting picked up.” At least, you hope so.
When Lando arrives at the street from the restaurant, he’s quick to spot you. You and your ex. He has never seen the guy before, but he can’t take his time to look at him. He quickly parks his car across the street and jogs to you. When he looks at you, he realizes that you are all soaked. Before he can say anything to you, your ex is talking at you. Lando didn’t expect that your ex would be still here as well.
Lando takes a good look at your ex. He never saw the guy before. It’s been a while since you dated him, but Lando is certain that he never met him. He knows that Max wasn’t a fan of the guy either.
“See!” The guy says angrily. “Fucking slut,” he continues with a raised voice, “you’re already dating someone else. And even worse, it is him! You lied to me.”
“We’re not dating,” you sigh.
“Yet,” Lando can’t withhold his remark. “And don’t call her that again.”
You send Lando an annoyed glance. Is he here to help you or to make things worse? Even though, you can’t stop the weird feeling in your stomach after he just said that. Why are his words having such an impact on you? And why is Lando talking about dating you? Could it be possible that he wants to date you? You’re getting confused by what’s happening.
“Are you going to deny that she is a slut?” Your ex asks Lando.
“Come on babygirl, we’re leaving before I’m going to lose it,” Lando mutters annoyed. He already feels himself getting angry with the guy in front of him. He gives you his hand, which you thankfully grab and wants to take you with him to his car so you can get home.
“So that’s why I couldn’t call you that,” your ex remarks, “your new boyfriend has dibs on that name.”
“Not my boyfriend,” you state again.
Lando almost adds another ‘yet’ again, but this time he holds himself back from doing it.
“Oh just for the sex then?” Your ex asks, “That does seem more fitting for a slut like you.”
Before you can even say something back, you’re already busy with pulling back Lando. What is going on? Lando has let go of your hand, only to use it to form a fist which can hit your ex boyfriend in his face. Fuck, he did actually punch him. You’re quick to grab Lando his arm and to try to take him with you.
“Let’s go Lando,” you mutter, “He isn’t worth it.”
“He called you a slut!” Lando almost screams. “Two fucking times.”
“I know,” you sigh, “Let’s leave please.”
Your ex is furious right now. He’s balding his fists as well and seems ready to take revenge on Lando for his earlier punch. When you see the fist of your ex coming at Lando his face, you don’t think about your next action. You quickly pull away Lando, which caused you to stand in front of the upcoming fist from your ex. When you feel it hit your cheek, you let out a gasp from the impact. It’s not a hard punch, but you’re still shocked.
Lando reacts within seconds. He carefully looks at your cheek, making sure that the impact wasn’t big. Softly he pushes you to the side before he grabs your ex by his neck. “I swear to fucking god,” Lando says with a voice so low it almost sounds dangerous to you, “you better make sure that you’re never close to her again, because the next time I see you too close to her, I’ll fucking end you.” You wonder what he means with that. “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic loser you are,” Lando continues, “and that you’ll never have a chance with a girl, or with a job or with whatever ever again.” He lets your ex go and watches him quickly walk away.
“Are you alright babygirl?” Lando asks you worried. He is quick to get you into his arms and to inspect your face again. It doesn’t look to bad thankfully.
“I think so,” you softly tell Lando.
“Let’s get you home,” Lando replies, “I have some ice there, hopefully it will stop the swelling.”
When you’re seated next to Lando in his expensive McLaren, you remember your horrible state. You must look like a mess. Your dress is soaked, your make up is running all over your face and even worse, you also feel like a mess.
“It turns out you were right after all,” you sigh.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Sorry that I dragged you into this,” you apologize towards Lando.
“Rather be sorry that you ever dated someone like him,” Lando replies, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone better around for you.”
“Someone like?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Lando chuckles, “Someone who’s ready to punch another guy for you maybe.”
And again, Lando confused the hell out of you.
a/n; thanks everyone so much for all the kind reactions so far 🫶🏻 love reading them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
taglist: @booksandflowrs @hiireadstuff @likedbygaslyy @dreamsarebig @f1fantasys
@samantha-chicago @sweatrevenge5436-blog @queenofmanydreams @fionamiller123
@chezmardybum @f-1-lover-16 @formulaal @shellybee456 @sltwins
@mouchii @emyladia @v3rnom @customsbyjcg-blog @cthgee @moonclaine
@scarletwidow3000 @bokutos-babyowl @loloekie @lyannesworld @silentreader128
@oreosareara @gabotomo @princesspristins @leclercsluv @lina505
@sideboobrry11 @zucchinimalfoy @danielshoe @alana4610 @viannasthings
@toriiez @randomnessis-mine-me @cmleitora
@kika-writes @fionamiller123 @noneofyourfbusinessworld @lqvesoph @lyannesworld
@sheeeesthings @ssararuffoni @f1fantasys @chrissiekitty19-blog @voidsfics
@curbthatmf @m41-k1tt3n @f1fantasys @m41-k1tt3n @allywthsr
@curbthatmf @sheeeesthings
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris imagine#ln4#formula one#f1#lando norris imagines
563 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mrs. Officer
I made this for my best friend and had nowhere else to post this so sorry if it's shitty the last time I wrote fan fiction was in 2012 about One Direction (I also don't know how to add the cool pics yall do)
**Hardly proof read**
“I make her wear nothing but handcuffs & heels and I beat it like a cop”
y/n’s POV
It’s been five months since Nate ended things with me and by this point I thought I would be healed from everything he put me through but I still find myself missing parts of him. I miss the status it gave me, I miss the chaos, I miss the holidays back in Boston and being surrounded by his family and friends. Well, except Chris, I do not miss Chris. Chris has been in Nate’s life since they were small and was always around throughout our two year relationship - I tried so hard to gain a connection with my ex's best friend but no matter what Chris was standoffish and cold. We all go to the same small university in Pennsylvania and my sorority and their fraternity always have events together so keeping away from them has been challenging. Lately I have been mostly keeping to myself and trying to stay away from any mixers or events because I can not face them and honestly it’s not even Nate who gets under my skin the most it’s Chris. When he sees me around campus he acts like he has never met me or rolls his eyes at me or makes some snide comment about what I am wearing. I am sure Nate has told him that I do not care for him but he is the one who was a dick to me first and at this point he needs to grow up. Tonight is Halloween and I have decided I am finally going out tonight. I am known as the party girl in my sorority and my absence has not gone unnoticed and I can not give Chris Sturniolo the satisfaction of thinking he is controlling me and I will make sure to wear a costume that will really piss Chris off.
Chris’ POV
“Do you think y/n is coming tonight?” I asked while mindlessly scrolling on my phone.
“For the tenth time Chris I have no fucking clue if she is coming tonight. Why do you keep asking me? If you care so much, text her” Nate rants.
“Assuming I care about that bitch is really bold kid” I mutter, still not looking up from my phone.
“I mean you were the one who was interested first until I slid in and stole her from you” Nate teases.
“That was almost two years ago” I roll my eyes. ”I am just happy you are the one who got stuck with her” I smirk at Nate.
I can't grasp what exactly makes me tick about y/n. Was it the fact Nate purposefully went after her once I showed interest? Was it the slutty outfits she paraded around on campus? Her smart mouth? I can’t figure it out but all I knew was she drove me crazy and made my dick twitch.
“Let’s get ready for the party, people will probably start getting here soon” Nate says, startling me out of my train of thought.
“Yeah, okay” I nod, getting up from the couch.
y/n’s POV
“Are you sure this looks okay?” I say while staring at the full length mirror looking at myself in every angle possible. It’s not that I’m not confident I just want my comeback to be memorable. I decided on being a sexy cop wearing a crop top, a badge, short shorts, a hat and functional handcuffs.
“Yes y/n you are slaying! Nate is going to be so pissed.” Madi beams back at me in the mirror. I shake my head and stifle a smile. As much as I don’t want to see him it would be fun to remind him of what he had.
“I don’t want this night to be about him” I say, turning to Madi, looking into her eyes. Madi is dressed as the corpse bride. “I am honestly going to do my best to steer clear from him and his douchebag of a friend.”
“No no I agree, you just look really good” she squeezes my hand. " I wish Chris wasn’t such a douche, I mean he is pretty hot.” Madi giggles.
“I would never.”
As we start nearing the Fraternity house my nerves start getting the best of me and my stomach starts to turn. I slow down walking, trying to catch my breath and Madi notices.
“Y/n I love you but I am not letting you talk your way out of this one. You can not let them control your life. After a couple of drinks I am sure that you will relax and this house will be packed. You might not even see them.” Madi assured me. I nod my head, run my hands over my face and let out a deep breath.
“Okay..fuck..okay let’s go” I say while grabbing her hand and we take off towards the house.
Chris’ POV
The music is so loud and my head is swimming..I think I may have pre gamed too hard. My nerves are shot at the thought I may see y/n tonight after what feels like months without properly seeing her. She hasn’t been around much and I would know because I scope out every event looking for her but I know Halloween is her favorite. She would always make Nate carve pumpkins and bring her to haunted houses. He complained to me the whole time but I would have done anything to be in position. To watch how scared she would get and hold her and make her feel safe. No matter how hard I tried I was always a dick to her while she dated my best friend..I was just so fucking jealous and couldn’t stand the way he treated her and she just let him. Fuck, I need to get some fresh air. I start making my way out the house when some girl I am pretty sure I hooked up with last semester stops me.
“Oh my god are you supposed to be Steve Harrington from Stranger Things?” she slurs.
“Yeah and I am guessing you’re supposed to be Eleven?” I ask flatly.
“How did you know?! Yes! Can we please take a picture together?” she smiles.
“Yeah whatever” I put my sunglasses up on my head and bring my bat up.
“Thaaaannkk you Chrisss” she says hardly being able to stand. I just nod and try to find the nearest exit of the house. I step out onto the porch and close my eyes. Maybe y/n won’t come tonight.
“Madi please stop walking so fast these shoes are not meant to do fucking track and field” I hear y/n yell and my eyes fly open.
“Sooorrry y/n” I hear Madi sing while skipping.
Before I can retreat back into the house, y/n spots me. Madi grabs her hand and they start making their way up the stairs to the front door.
“Chrisropher” Madi snaps.
“Madi” I snap back.
Y/n walks past me without looking in my direction. Of course she would be wearing some slutty costume. I absent-mindedly adjust myself before saying “Come y/n it’s been so long, haven’t you missed me? No hello?” I smirk.
“Fuck you Chris” y/n spits.
y/n’s POV
“Okay I hate to laugh but the fact that Chris was the first person we saw is kind of crazy” Madi laughs once we enter the packed living room. I laugh and roll my eyes.
“I definitely need a drink after that, do you want one Madi?”
“Yes please”
I walk towards the keg and wait in line. I’m actually not as shaken up as I thought I would be after seeing Chris. I will just never understand his issue with me but I am not letting myself ruminate on it. I fill Madi and I’s cups up and as I turn around I can feel the liquid spill down the front of me.
“Oh shit sorry…wait y/n! A little birdy told me you were here I guess I didn’t believe them” Nate says.
“Hello Nate. Yeah I’m here and now my costume is ruined thanks to you.” I grumble as I grab napkins to wipe myself off.
“How are you?” Nate slurs. “I am sorry for all the like shit I put you through y/n really I am” he pouts while putting his hand over his heart.
“All the shit? Do you mean cheating on me for two years with multiple girls? You mean humiliating me in front of everyone? Is that the ‘shit’ you are referring to?” I snarl.
“You know Chris always told me that you were just some dumb girl and I really should have listened to him. You can't even take a sincere apology from the man who made you who you are.” Nate boasts.
“Made me who I am?” I laugh. “Nate you are a president of a Fraternity get the fuck over yourself my god.” I yell. I make my way back to Madi with two half filled cups.
“Umm..what happened to you?” Madi asks, scanning my face while grabbing her cup.
“I don’t even know it’s so packed in here. I just kept getting bumped into! I am going to go to the bathroom and clean myself up!.” I can’t let Madi know what happened between Nate and I. I don’t want to ruin her night but I just need to have a little bit of alone time.
“I can come with you if you want! Maybe help you with your costume?” Madi offers.
“I’m okay, thank you” I offer her a smile.
“Keep your phone with you y/n, I mean it” she says sternly. I salute her and she rolls her eyes.
Chris’ POV
“Wait you spilled a drink on y/n? Purposefully?” I ask Nate while standing in the kitchen.
“Not purposefully but whatever she deserved it” Nate states. “You should’ve seen the look on her face once she realized it was me.” Nate laughs.
“You do realize that you are the one that cheated on her and made her life a living hell?” I ask, feeling my face get hot.
“What? Now you suddenly care about y/n’s feelings? Didn’t seem like you cared too much when you were trying to convince me to break up with her for two years” Nate responds while putting his hand to his chin while pretending to think hard. “But you know I could always tell you wanted her” he wags his finger at me. “You wanted to feel her mouth around you didn’t you? You wanted to hear her moaning your name, right?” Nate taunts.
“You better fucking watch it kid” I say while shoving Nate.
“Okay enough let’s break it up” some random guy yells while getting in between Nate and I. I decided to head to the bathroom to try to cool off. I don’t know why I have been such a prick to y/n when Nate is obviously the issue. Great, no line to the bathroom. I try the door and it's locked. Of course. I knock loudly on the door.
“Yo, is anyone there?” No response. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go” I yell over the loud music. I put my ear to the door and I can hear the water running and sniffing.
y/n’s POV
I feel like such an idiot while I stand in front of the mirror trying to desperately get this sticky beer off of me and fix my makeup. Why am I even crying? This is such a pathetic state to be in at a party.
“Yo, is anyone there?” someone yells. “Hello? Come on bro I have to go.”
I freeze. It’s Chris. Of course it’s Chris, why wouldn’t it be Chris? Please god get me out of here. The excessive knocking is making my head hurt.
“WHAT?” I yell throwing the door open to be met with a startled Chris.
“Were you crying in there? Chris asked with his eyebrow slightly raised.
“Nothing gets past you huh?” I say while trying to get past him.
“Oh no you are going nowhere” he says while pushing me back in the bathroom and locking the door behind him.
“What is your fucking issue with me Chris?” I snap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about y/n '' he starts.
“Spare me the bullshit you haven’t liked me since the day we met and I haven’t done anything to you!”
“Haven’t liked you that's rich” Chris mocks. “Haven’t liked you y/n? You have been all I thought about for two fucking years but you chose Nate.”
“What? What are you talking about?” I ask wondering if I heard him right. Chris sits on the side of the bathtub and puts his face in his hands. Chris sighs.
“I don’t know what I am saying” he mumbles through his hands.
“I mean you can start off with a sorry perhaps” I say while prying his hands away from his face. He looks up at me and smiles and rolls his eyes.
“I am sorry y/n I really am. I don’t know why I have treated you the way I have for so long. I think I may have been jealous of you know like your relationship or whatever” Chris confesses.
“What? Did you think I was trying to get in between you and Nate? I never wanted that” I say while putting my hands up defensively. Chris giggles.
“You really are dense, aren’t you?” he stands up towering over me. “I wanted you y/n..just you” he stares down at me. I feel like I am being pranked, is there a camera in this bathroom? Is Nate outside listening?
“Don’t fuck with me Chris” I whisper and shove his chest. “This isn’t funny at all. You act like you don’t even know me anymore. It’s been five months and this is the first time we’ve held a conversation and you want me to trust you? I can’t.” I say holding back tears. I have felt so alone after the breakup and I can’t handle being taunted.
“No I get that” he says while tucking a hair behind my ear “I have been really shitty towards you and I guess if I was you I wouldn’t trust me either but I am serious “ he tips my chin up forcing me to look into his eyes “I have wanted you for so long, Ma” he licks his lips. I involuntarily squeeze my thighs together looking for any type of friction.
“Chris” I whisper.
“And that fucking outfit jesus christ y/n” he smirks down at me. “Turn around for me baby..bend down in front of the sink” he whispers in my ear. I’m fucked. I turn around slowly and see my flushed face in the mirror and bend down. Chris tuts.
“No, don’t get all shy on me y/n. I have heard you in Nate’s dorm. Look in the mirror.” Chris demands.
Chris’ POV
I look in the mirror and see y/n’s flushed face. I can tell she’s breathing heavily with the way her breath is fogging up the mirror. I press my clothed hard on against her and she bucks her hips back. “You’re such a needy girl aren’t you? I have been waiting for this for so long Ma you have no idea. We are going to take our time. Can you be a good girl for daddy?” Y/n nods her head. “Words baby”
“I’m going to be a good girl Chris” Y/n says breathlessly. I back away from her and she whimpers. My hand meets her ass with a loud crack which makes her jolt. “Who are you going to be a good girl for?” I tease.
“A good girl for you daddy..always a good girl for you” she whimpers. I can tell she’s embarrassed with the way she keeps trying to hide her face.
“And I want you to watch y/n I want you to watch yourself while I touch you okay? I want you to see all the pretty faces you make” I lean over and whisper in her ear. She nods again. “Words y/n. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“Yes daddy,” she moans.
“Pull your shorts down.” I watch as she pulls her shorts down as I palm myself through my jeans. No underwear. I lock eyes with her in the mirror. “No underwear y/n? You’re such a slut huh? Look at you clenching around nothing” I tut. “I bet you wanted me to find you like this with your shorts off bent over the sink with your pussy soaked” I laugh.
“Please” she whines.
“Please what baby?” I taunt.
“Please daddy please touch me I need you so bad”
y/n’s POV
I never would have thought I would be begging Chris Sturniolo to touch me but here I am bent over a sink with my pussy on full display for him. I have never experienced anything like this before. Sure Nate and I had sex but never like this and I’m almost scared I won’t be able to take it. Chris gets on his knees and starts kissing up the back of the thighs and I can feel myself dripping down my legs.
“God look at you Ma, you look so pretty” Chris says and while wiping up my slick and putting his fingers in his mouth letting out a satisfied moan. I clench begging for something, anything at this point. “And look at how you respond to me, you're such a good girl.” Chris spreads my legs and buries his face in my pussy and focuses on my clit.
“Fuuck Chr…Daddy.” I moan out. He swirls his tongue around my entrance before plunging it fully in making my buck my hips against his face. “S-Sorry Daddy I didn’t mean to move.” I plead.
“No baby it’s okay I want you to fuck my face like the little slut you are” Chris says while grabbing my ass. I start fucking myself against his tongue and I can feel my legs start to shake.
“I’m close..I’m so close” I pant and Chris snakes his arm through my legs and starts drawing lazy circles around my clit. “Yes please just like that…nghhh..fuck fuck I am going to cum” I scream out and I see stars while I ride out my orgasm all over Chris’ face.
Chris’ POV
Y/n turns her head to face me and giggles.
“What?” I smirk.
“You still have all of your clothes on” she laughs. I stand up and she turns to face me and grabs the back of my neck. Our lips smash together and I let out and moan as she bites my lip and runs her hands through my hair. She grabs my sunglasses off of the top of my head and places them on her eyes, breaking the kiss.
“Against the wall Daddy” she barks at me trying not to laugh.
“Oh are you giving orders now?” I smirk. I can feel a wet spot sticking to the tip of my cock.
“Well I am the cop you know? So..against the wall” she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear. I back up against the wall and watch her unbuckle my belt.
“Shirt off” I whisper while taking her police hat off her head and running my hands through her hair. She surprisingly listens, taking her shirt off. “Bra too” I say. I watch in awe as her tits bounce. “Fuck y/n. You are stunning.” She pulls my boxers down and my cock springs out hitting her face. I hiss at the cool air.
“You’re so big daddy” she looks up at me through my sunglasses. I just nod and lick my lips. I don’t know how long I am going to last if she keeps looking at me like that. She kitten licks the tip of my cock and I can’t help but buck my hips forward burying my cock in her throat. She hums around my cock making me throw my head back.
“You’re taking me so well fuck. I want you to get yourself ready for me okay baby? Stretch yourself out for daddy” I instruct her while I watch her finger her pussy. I grab her hair fucking her throat and watch her gag and spit on my cock. She grabs my balls and gives them a firm a squeeze. “Fuck yeah Ma, just like that. You going to swallow all of me y/n?” I moan out. She nods and looks up at me through her wet eyelashes. My hips stutter as I squeeze my eyes shut and cum down her throat.
y/n’s POV
I make sure to lap any cum with my tongue as Chris winces at the sensitivity.
“You are fucking unreal y/n” Chris laughs.
“Oh I know” I wink back at him.
“Are those handcuffs real?” Chris nods at the handcuffs left on the top of the toilet already getting hard again.
“Yeah” I smile shyly back at chris. “They’re real”
“Stand up, turn around and hands behind your back” Chris demands and I do as I’m told. I know he had me stretch myself out but I can’t help being a little nervous considering he is way larger than Nate. Chris walks over, grabs the handcuffs and cuffs my hands behind my back.
“Bend”
I bend over the sink and glance up at Chris who is just staring at me.
“What?” I ask nervously looking at his reflection in the mirror.
“You just look so good I can’t even believe my eyes bro” Chris says dumbfounded.
“Calling me bro right now is crazy” I say rolling my eyes.
“Right..sorry officer” Chris winks at me and lines up with my entrance and grabbing my hips. He slids into me slowly without breaking eye contact. He is so fucking huge.
“Jesus y/n your pussy was fucking made for me” Chris moans and bottoms out. I can feel him in my stomach. “You tell me when to move baby…you’re taking me so well, such a good girl for me” he soothes me while rubbing my back.
“S..slow please move slow.” I whine out. Chris starts moving slowly and I rock my hips back starting fuck myself back on his cock.
“Yeah baby, you're doing so good. You look so pretty fucking yourself on my cock for me. Can I go faster?” Chris breathes out.
“Please daddy” I moan. Chris wastes no time and starts to pound into my pussy.
“Deep breaths baby you can take me, fuck you’re so wet” Chris mumbles and lifts my leg up until my knee is on the sink. “Fucking look at you Ma so fucking good for me” he pants. I just nod my head. “Have I fucked you dumb baby? Too tired to talk to your daddy?” Chris laughs.
“Gonna cum” I mumble out, hardly able to talk.
“Go ahead baby cum all over my cock make a mess all over me y/n” Chris grunts. I scream out cumming all over him while babbling. Chris continues to pound into me.
“Dad..dy too sensitive” I whimper.
“I know baby I’m almost there, so good for me” Chris huffs out. “Can I cum in you baby?” he questions.
“Please daddy please come in me” I beg.
“Yeah want me to fuck my baby into you? Want everyone to know you’re mine you dirty slut” Chris’ hips stutter filling me with his hot cum. We both hiss while he pulls out of me.
“Here let me get those cuffs off of you, do your arms hurt?” he says, looking concerned.
“Just a little but I’m okay though” I smile at him. Chris helps me clean myself up and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“I really hope this isn’t it. I’d really like to hang out more, you know? I have a lot to make up to you” Chris says.
“I don’t think this will be the last time Chris but I really have to go find Madi” I laugh.
“She’s going to kill you” he says while shaking his head.
“I know I have 40 missed calls”
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#smut#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
Into the Ether (9)
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.
Authors' Note: Implied child kidnapping ahead.
Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️🔥
AO3 Link
Chapter 9: Blood Is Thicker Than Water
Another night, another part of the mystery to solve. But first, you had agreed to go into work. Nothing was going to stop you, not even the ‘Prince’s orders’. Something about having a nightly routine kept you sane and grounded you in reality. Not that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, but you didn’t want to lose touch with the living. You didn’t want to become like… Leon?
You heaved a disheartened sigh thinking about it. You’d been giving the man the silent treatment ever since returning from the Spencer Mansion, and you didn’t like it one bit. Hurting people wasn’t something you enjoyed — be it ignoring them out of spite or acting in a way that would lead to someone’s unfair demise. It didn’t help that you were constantly being reminded of how powerless and insignificant you were. Was this the best you could do when taking a stand? Or was there something more?
Working felt like walking. You went through the motions: socializing with your colleagues, pandering to customers, planning out the next month’s events program, making a couple of calls along the way, and your personal favorite — sorting out the cafe’s finances. Even the Redfields showed up, informing you and by extension, Leon, that they were still on the suitor’s case and would have something juicy for you soon.
“Do you ever miss the sun?” you wondered out loud.
It had barely been a week since you turned, but you were already bemoaning the fact that you wouldn’t be able to live to see it. Although the nights were longer now that the year had entered into its colder period, you had thought ahead, speculating how it would be like when summer returned again. That was depressing.
“Always,” Claire responded, patting your shoulder empathetically.
“Best not to think about it,” Chris chimed in, taking a swig from his beer bottle. “You’ll get used to it at some point, and besides, there’s always YouTube.”
“Very helpful, Chris,” his sister huffed in disdain, forcefully backhanding her brother so that he choked on a bit of his beer.
“What the fuck, sis?” he groaned, wiping the beer stains off his clothes with his bare hands in annoyance. “On my nice shirt as well.”
For some reason the constant bickering between the siblings caused you to double over in laughter and they looked at you in amusement. After you recovered from your giggling fit, you pointed to Chris' bottle, asking, “So you can do that thing of actually enjoying what you eat and drink?”
“Uh huh.”
“Maybe you can teach me?” you tested the waters. “Leon was supposed to, but—” You stopped yourself in your tracks, realizing that you’d have to share a lot more than you would be comfortable with.
Unfortunately, Claire was perceptive enough. “Trouble in Paradise?” she suggested, only to continue on her train of thought when you didn’t answer, “Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me. He may be a prick who needs a nudge in the right direction, but he’ll come around.”
She pressed her arm against the wall and leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “And I hate to say this, but he’s actually a good guy.”
The expression on your face must’ve given away how you felt when Claire had uttered those last words. She quickly peppered it with, “He must’ve screwed up pretty bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say it’s one screw up after the other,” you finally replied.
Chris gave a low chuckle, “Sounds like him alright.” He shrugged. “Can’t blame the guy for trying though.”
“Alright, I’ll let you in on something,” Claire began, only to be interrupted by her brother.
“Oh man, not again! Can’t ever keep your goddamn mouth shut, can you?” he scolded.
“Shut up, Chris! She’s cool with us, you know that,” she retorted and he conceded, though you could still hear him grumbling in the background.
Turning towards you triumphantly, she continued, “I’ll keep it short. He saved my brother's skin; I owed him a life boon, and Chris probably did too, but he turned it down in the end.”
“Yeah, said something about not wanting to take advantage,” Chris piped up, shaking his head in disbelief. “To this night, it still floors me.”
What they had said gave you some pause. It seemed as though Leon had a bunch of demons to confront, and there was always an internal battle waging. You just hadn’t been able to break through. But did you want to in the end? Or would you just leave him to rot in his own misdoings? You weren’t anyone’s savior and you didn’t want to be. You simply wanted to do what felt right to you.
“Guess there’s a lot more to him that I don’t know about,” you mused.
Chris’ wide palm met your back with a loud thump that reverberated across your chest. “Hey, chin up, kid. It’ll take a while, but you’ll get there. Us Brujahs don’t give up without a fight.” His brown eyes lit up and crinkled, fine lines of crow’s feet fanning out from the corners. “And no matter what anyone says, I still think you’re one at heart.”
“Brujah, huh? I like the sound of that.” A crooked smile played across your lips as you laid your cards out on the table. “I’ve heard you’re fierce fighters. Mind showing me a few tricks? Just so I know how to fend for myself.”
Chris stood taller, eyeing you with curiosity as a sense of pride visibly swelled in his chest.
“I could throw in a supply of beers on the house to sweeten the deal,” you added, pointing at the empty bottle he was clutching at his side.
He barked out a laugh before responding, “Well, now that you put it that way, you’ve got my hands tied.” Placing his bottle down on a table beside him, he agreed, “Sure, I’ll give you some tips, but a word of warning: I don’t go easy.”
The rest of your shift went by without event, until Leon dropped by to pick you up for the next meeting planned that night. Since neither of you had gotten any real leads on the case yet, he thought it best to visit the Bakers first before heading back to NEST, where the Primogens' offices were and where Jill would be waiting impatiently for answers.
In the jeep, the atmosphere was thick with tension, though along the way, he tried to cut through it with some advice. “I know you’re still upset and don’t want to talk, but I need to prepare you for this.”
He tapped on the steering wheel nervously. “As Malkavians, the Bakers all suffer from some form of affliction following their Embrace. In this case, they believe a little girl called Eveline is part of the family, except no one else can see her.”
“You mean she’s invisible?”
The car swerved off-center as Leon glanced over at you, startled by your response. It was the first time you had spoken to him in a while. You clung onto the grab handle and yelled, “Keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
“Shit, um, sorry!” He focused his attention back to his driving, quickly stabilizing the vehicle before he spoke up again. “And, uh, no. I mean, we don’t think she actually exists.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is that going to be a problem?”
“Not if you pretend she does,” he stated plainly. “Otherwise, they’ll get really provoked if you don’t interact with Eveline.”
“Right, thanks for the heads up.” You nodded curtly. “Anything else I should know?”
“Yeah, well, uh, just be—”
“Careful. Got it,” you finished the sentence for him.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he emphasized. “These folks have always been rather isolated from the Camarilla. Last I heard, they don’t take kindly to strangers sticking their noses where they don’t belong. So, if all hell breaks loose in there, I want you to book it and run, alright?”
You frowned, shifting your gaze in his direction. If his intention was to allay your fears, he had done nothing but heighten them. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He flashed you a reassuring smile, but you could make out the hint of unease in the curl of his lips. “Take the car keys when we reach the place, so you have your escape route if needed.”
You let his words linger in the air as you kept quiet throughout the rest of the ride.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Reaching the outskirts of Raccoon City, you were traveling along Stone-Ville Road, where there was nothing but open land. The trees had been cleared from the forest, and multiple estuaries flowed from the Raccoon Dam. The area was sparsely populated, with only a smattering of houses spread out from each other in the distance. At some point, Leon made a left turn into a side road, heading towards a decrepit-looking estate that was slightly off the beaten track. It appeared to bear some similarities to the Spencer Mansion back in Arklay Forest, causing a spine-tingling shiver to sweep through your body.
“Designed by the same architect from the Trevor & Chamberlain fame,” Leon pointed out, seemingly able to read your mind.
“That guy from New York?” You remembered reading about him in magazine articles and the mystery of his disappearance as people mourned the loss of a genius.
“Yeah, so expect surrealist stuff, including puzzles and secret passageways,” he cautioned.
You balked at the thought of having to enter yet another labyrinth like the one at the Tremere Chantry.
“It’s just for a friendly chat,” he asserted, his calming blue gaze meeting yours. “I doubt there’s any need for us to explore the house, unless they make things difficult.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you muttered, tucking the car keys into your pocket as you stepped in front of a formidable, rusty gate.
It was unlocked, and as Leon pushed it open, it screeched on its hinges like a dead woman's wail, beckoning you towards the crumbling building before you, which was long past its heyday. The refurbished plantation house, where you assumed the Baker family lived, was part of a larger ranch estate, and it looked like something straight out of a slasher flick.
Leon pressed the doorbell, waiting to see if there was any sign of life. A light switched on, its mellow rays filtered through the window shades, and you heard hurried footsteps on the wooden floorboards until the door swung open. An older lady with her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail peered at both of you in confusion. She wore a tattered, sweat-stained button-up blouse and a brown skirt. Her coarse and wrinkled skin still carried an unfaded tan, suggesting a life of manual labor, where she had tended to the animals and fields under the sweltering sun.
“Can I help you, miss, mister?” she asked in a heavy Southern drawl. “We weren’t expecting anyone at this time.”
“Ma’am,” he dipped his head politely in acknowledgement. “Sorry for intruding on you like this, but there wasn’t any other way to contact you.”
“Well, we don’t want no trouble, young man. Just mindin’ our own business, that’s all.” Shifting nervously from foot to foot, she fiddled with the hem of her cotton blouse, glancing over her shoulder every now and then at a blank space behind her.
Your attention was drawn to the area she kept looking at, and as you concentrated on it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. You had the strangest sense that someone was there, but you couldn’t make out any shape or figure, just an energy. An icy chill gripped your head, as if cold hands were feeling along the grooves of your brain. You shuddered, realizing that whoever it was knew that you were aware of its presence.
“We don’t want any trouble either,” Leon assured, raising his palms slightly to indicate a truce. “We just have some questions we could use your help on, regarding an attack a couple of nights ago.”
The woman still clutched onto the door apprehensively. “Why? Who sent you?”
“The Prince put us on the investigation,” he disclosed warily.
At that moment, a shadowy figure materialized behind the woman, taking a few seconds before you could make out his features in the dim light. He was an older man, around the same age as her, balding and wearing spectacles. Likewise, his yellow striped shirt and beige pants were worn and filthy, as though he hadn’t changed out of it for decades.
“Prince?” he questioned defensively, placing his hand on the small of the woman’s back. “What does the Prince want? We didn’t do nothing wrong, son.”
“No, you didn’t,” Leon agreed, quickly following up with an explanation to assuage the man. “We have the assailants in custody, but it appears they’ve been brainwashed and manipulated through Dementation — a skill that you’re well-versed in.”
The man eyed him like a hawk as Leon continued, treading on thin ice. “We thought we could use your expertise, and if you might’ve picked up on anything out of the ordinary in the vicinity.”
There was a pregnant pause before the man relented, “Fine, you got 5 minutes to ask us anything you wanna know, son.” Pushing the door wide open, he gestured for you to enter. “Come on in.”
As you stepped into the gloomy premises, he pointed at you, flashing a warning glance in your direction. “And no more snoopin’ around, young lady.”
Oh, right. You must’ve unwittingly activated one of your powers earlier to sense his presence, when he had relied on his Obfuscate Discipline to remain hidden. “Sorry, my bad,” you mumbled. “It was an accident.”
He nodded, turning around to make his way into the living room where a dining table was situated. “You girls can come out now,” he hollered.
You saw a younger woman with jagged, short hair emerge in a similar fashion to how the man did before, sitting at one of the chairs at the table. Despite that, you greeted two people as Leon had instructed, and he followed suit. A round of introductions followed, where you learnt that the older couple were Jack and Marguerite and their two daughters, Zoe and Eveline, with the latter being the youngest at 10 years old.
Marguerite disappeared into the kitchen for a bit, only to return with a tray of crockery. She handed out cups to everyone and poured a red, viscous liquid from a teapot. Jack grumbled in the corner that it was meant to be a short meeting, but at the same time, couldn’t help but appreciate his wife’s hospitality. Bringing the cup to your nose, the liquid smelled musky, like earth, and you wondered where it came from.
“It’s the best I can offer at such last minute notice,” she apologized, wiping her hands on her blouse as she sat herself down. Twisting her head in the direction of the empty seat next to Zoe, she cooed, “But Evie likes it, don’t ya, sweetheart? That’s it, drink up now. Little piggy’s blood is good for you.”
You watched as the cup on the table remained motionless, while Marguerite bombarded the invisible entity with sweet words of encouragement. Trying to ease the awkwardness in such a situation, you took a mouthful of the liquid from your cup. It was the first time you tasted animal blood and as much as you hated to admit it, it was incredibly bland compared to human blood. Like a simple gruel versus a gourmet meal. Then again, neither could bagged blood beat the real thing, though you tried not to dwell on it. You smiled politely over at Zoe, who threw you a sympathetic look.
“You’re new, huh?” she asked shyly, cocking her head as she gazed at you.
“Mm hm, about a week.” You took another sip and pursed your lips, swallowing the liquid like a chore that had to be done.
“Ooh, a baby!” Marguerite interjected, suddenly interested in the conversation between you and Zoe. You imagined she was the social butterfly of the group. “Maybe Evie can show you a few tricks.”
At this, Leon rested his hand over your arm protectively, forcing a strained smile. “Perhaps another time? We really should get down to business.”
“Ah, city boys and their ‘business’,” Jack remarked, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. “Well, what can we do for ya?”
You heard Leon speak, but his voice seemed to drone on with the others, and out of nowhere you started to enter a tunnel vision. In your line of sight, you spotted a framed photo of the Baker family, though something was amiss. There was a young man in the picture you hadn’t met yet. He was thin and lanky, and had a hoodie on that obscured part of his face. Leaning back on the couch, he stared directly back at you with a bored look in his hollowed eyes.
It took you a while, but you managed to snap out of it, uttering the first thought that came to your mind, “Is that your son, mister?”
All at once, the mood in the room shifted, taking a dramatic turn for the worse. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on you as Jack ordered ominously, “Get the hell out.”
You opened your mouth in protest, but Leon beat you to it, rising up from his seat as he contended, “Look, she didn’t mean anything by it. We’re sorry, alright? Could we just—”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, boy!” Jack bellowed, his command resonating across the room.
Leon’s body grew rigid and he remained mute. Dread seeped into your bones as you observed the previous scene of peace and tranquility descend into an utter nightmare.
“Mama, Evie’s getting upset,” Zoe announced in a tiny voice.
“Argh! See what you’ve done now?” Marguerite shrieked as she stomped around the room in a temper tantrum. “This is your fault!” she accused, glaring at you and Leon.
“You barge into our house and threaten my family? This won’t do!” Jack shook his head menacingly as his eyes glowered. “I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.”
His eyes changed into an otherworldly shade and Marguerite joined him, speaking in tongues. They gazed at Leon as if engaged in a séance. However, Zoe remained separate from their antics, looking on in fright. You stood rooted to where you were, bracing for the worst, but nothing happened. It was only when you saw Leon sink to the ground on his knees, his face pale as a sheet, that you realized he was bearing the brunt of your transgression.
He was taken back to years ago, at the height of his blood bond, where he would do anything to win Ada’s affection. Her interest in him had begun to wane and he was sure she was seeing another lover. But this time, he would bring her the vessel that would change her mind about him and guarantee her everlasting love.
There he was, at that godforsaken group home, the one linked to the Catholic church he had frequented when he was still alive, and where he would sell his damned soul for a second time to the Devil. All it took was a flash of his police credentials and a charm or two from his arsenal of skills he had honed to entrance the nuns keeping watch over the children.
“Sherry, are you ready to go?” He extended a hand towards her.
This wasn’t his first rodeo. Ada and him had been noticing the little girl for a while, testing to see if she would be a worthy vessel for the Prince himself. After all, Ventrues were extremely fussy drinkers and Wesker expected a Michelin star meal every single time. The only thing stopping him from delivering the girl over was a vague sense of morality he still had within him. But he was desperate enough now to dash it to the ground for a chance at his sire’s approval again.
The girl had dressed into her school uniform, a hairband holding her blond tresses out of her face as she peered up excitedly at him. “Yes, let’s go!”
She would have done anything to get away from the home where she never slept well and felt alone despite being in a room full of kids around her age. Where Leon was taking her sounded like a glorious fairytale. A palace with a prince, she imagined, a place where she would be treated to all the luxuries her current life could never afford her.
“Oh god, no!” he cried out, doubling over on the grimy floor of the Baker House.
Sherry was haunting him again. Everywhere he looked, he saw multiple copies of her like a cracked mirror reflecting her ghost on its uneven surface. He heard layer upon layer of her laughter, jumbled and out of sync, mocking and taunting him. Paranoia sank in and he curled himself into a fetal position, pleading for no one in particular to forgive him.
“Sherry, please, we have to go!” he urged.
This was years later, when he had some sense knocked into him from the time he hung out with the Anarchs. He wanted to right his wrongs, and free the girl who was never meant to be trapped in the underworld in the first place.
But she had changed. She was older and wiser, and knew exactly what she wanted — it was definitely not to leave.
Yanking her hand back, she kicked her feet, stamping on the ground as she yelled, “No! I want to stay!”
He was shocked by her absolute conviction in remaining within the prison where she was held, like a pretty songbird for the rest of the Kindred to gawk at. “But…”
“You can’t make me!” she screamed, red in the face.
Rendered speechless, he didn’t know what else to do than stare at the crying child before him with his jaw hanging open. He thought he was saving her, like a knight in shining armor, but she didn’t need any saving. She was perfectly happy where she was.
“One day, I’ll get you out of there. I promise,” he babbled on repeatedly, reduced to nothing but a trembling mess before the Malkavians.
During the entire period when Leon appeared to be suffering from a mental breakdown, you were torn about what to do. He had told you to bolt the minute something like this took place, but you couldn’t leave him to fend for himself in this state. You didn’t understand what he was blabbering on about. Was Sherry his sister? Where was she? What happened to her?
A million thoughts raced through your mind, but you shut them down. You needed to pry Leon away from the family’s cold clutches and keep him safe. Mustering your courage, you approached the one who seemed to be the most reasonable of the lot. She still sat in her chair, gazing upon the scene with a vacant yet troubled expression.
“Zoe?” you called out softly, hoping it wouldn’t escalate the situation. “Please, we don’t mean any harm.”
Her eyes darted towards you.
“I know you’re just trying to protect your family,” you deduced, especially from the way they had been on edge the moment you stepped onto their property and inadvertently brought up one of their own.
“We need the information, but I swear to you we will keep whoever it is you’re trying to protect safe,” you promised.
Her breath hitched, and she looked at you with glassy eyes. In the background, you could hear Leon’s gut-wrenching whines of pain.
“Zoe, please!” you begged, your brows furrowing and tears on the verge of spilling from your eyes. You couldn’t bear to witness him in such agony any longer. It felt like your heart was shattering into pieces, though you couldn’t explain why.
“Eveline, stop,” her calm voice sliced through the air and the buzzing energy died down.
Her parents came out of their hypnotic state and Leon stopped shaking uncontrollably, though he backed himself into a corner in fear. You rushed to his side, holding him in your arms as you checked his eyes to see if he had fully returned to the present.
“You stayed…” he whispered, reaching out to touch your face, as though he was trying to ascertain if you were real.
In an instant, you pulled him into an embrace, rocking him gently as you stroked his hair. “You’re okay, Leon. You’re safe.”
After a while, he relaxed into your arms and his breathing returned to its normal tempo. The Bakers exchanged worried looks but said nothing as they gave him time to recover. Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I-I’m sorry about what happened there, son. Just been a lot going on these days.”
You turned around, deciding to take the reins as you spoke for the two of you, “I understand, and as I promised your daughter, we’ll make sure that, um—”
“Lucas,” Marguerite offered.
“—Lucas won’t get hurt.”
Jack nodded, taking off his glasses as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “You see, how we work is through what others call premonitions or clairvoyance, and all that mumbo-jumbo.”
Clearing his throat, he continued, “Well, lately we’ve been sensing a bunch of Sabbat activity in the city. Their symbols are everywhere, like little red hotspots across the center. They’re planning more of these attacks for sure, just heading down along the river.”
“Circular River?” you probed.
“Uh huh, the one closest to town,” he concurred. “And, uh, I’m guessing you were also here about the Cobweb?”
“Yeah.”
He swallowed anxiously as Marguerite took over. “It don’t always speak to us, and sometimes it’s hard to make out what it says. But we heard somethin’ the other night.”
She paused, adjusting her hair restlessly before she divulged, “It was Lucas’ voice, carried like a wave by a thousand voices, saying his name is nobody. That stood out, but we don’t know why.”
Nobody said they were nobody…
You caught a flicker of recognition in Leon’s eyes as you recalled what the man had said during Jill’s interrogation. Was Lucas responsible for all of this?
“Where’s Lucas now?” Leon asked, his voice still a little unsteady.
“He don’t want to be found.” Jack shrugged dejectedly. “My boy’s always been a real firecracker. Left home one day and never came back. We think he’s with them — the Sabbat.”
“But he’s a good boy,” his wife insisted. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“We just want him to come home,” Zoe added. “Evie wants her big brother back.”
The joy and curse of familial bonds. You could get behind that.
“We won’t breathe a word about Lucas,” you pledged, overriding your sire’s authority as you answered on behalf of him as well. “Right, Leon?”
You could see the discomfort in his expression, though he grunted an affirmative reply.
As Jack showed you out of the house, you thanked him and his family for their assistance, though a final question came to your mind. “Can Dementation have long-lasting effects?”
“With the right choice of words, it can.”
━━━━━━━━━━━
To play it safe, you took over the driving on the way back as you and Leon discussed the information you had gleaned from the Bakers.
“You think Lucas is the one?” you asked as you stopped at a red light.
“No, I don’t think he worked alone,” he opined. “It took two of the Bakers to bring me to my knees.”
There was a momentary pause as he clenched his fist at the memory, exhaling another deep breath of air. “I know we are talking about manipulating a group of lesser vampires, but unless he’s a prodigy we’ve never discovered, there were most likely others involved at the same time.”
“Makes sense,” you agreed, easing off on the brake pedal to switch over to the accelerator as the lights went green again.
“You still want to protect the guy, even after what he did?”
Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing your knuckles to turn white. A promise was a promise, and there was more than enough bloodshed these nights.
“Yes,” you forced the answer out through gritted teeth. “Got a problem with that?”
“I admire you,” he murmured, dispelling your misgivings. “Your compassion.”
You felt your anger dissolve as you followed up with a suggestion. “It’s never too late, you know?”
He gave you a weak smile but remained silent for the ride home.
Back at his apartment, you noticed that he still seemed shaken by the night's events as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the couch, gazing blankly into space. Was he going to doze off in that position? You had already changed into a loose muslin nightdress and gone through the usual bedtime preparations.
Strolling over, you sat down beside him, trying to strike up a conversation. “They spooked you real bad, huh?”
He didn’t laugh at your joke, though he acknowledged it. “You can say that again.”
This wasn’t like him at all. You grabbed his shoulder in concern. “Hey, you don't seem okay.”
“I’ll be fine,” he sighed, looking away from you to his lap. “And… thank you for back there.”
“I would never abandon you like that,” you stressed, even if you hadn’t forgiven him for turning you… yet.
He glanced at you with his watery blue eyes in appreciation, but you could tell that his mind was in a distant place elsewhere. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw his hands quivering, and you hoped that what the Bakers had done wasn’t permanent. You knew he was trying to put on a brave front, but a part of you felt uneasy about leaving him on his own.
“Um, why don’t you sleep next to me today?” you offered hesitantly.
He peered at you quizzically. “You sure?”
“Yeah, just get dressed, alright?” You made your way up the stairs and waited for him by the bed before he could argue any further.
He joined you later, clad in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, keeping a respectable distance as he lay beside you. There was a nervous energy to him.
You drew nearer, caressing his arm tenderly. “We don’t have to talk about whatever you saw in there,” you affirmed. “I’m here if you need me.”
He tucked your hair behind your ear as a stray tear fell onto his face. Wrapping your arms around him, you closed the gap, breathing in his scent as you felt his hands along your waist. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before you released each other. His nose nudged against yours as his warm breath grazed your cheek. When his gaze lowered to your lips, you didn’t have to think or doubt what would come next.
Leaning in, he placed his soft lips over your own, kissing you intimately as he savored your taste in his mouth. Instinctively, you kissed back, running your fingers through his messy locks as your tongue licked across the seam of his lips. A low moan escaped his throat as he pressed up against you, claiming your lips again and again. It was the last thing you remembered as daysleep enveloped you like a cocoon, lulling you into a temporary hibernation.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil#vampire au#vampire the masquerade#vtm#crossover#porcelainscribbles
53 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hear me out instead of a jealous Ruhn it’s a jealous FRIEND reader.
This is sad… sorry 🥲
I give up on us
He wasn’t necessarily an attention whore but Ruhn loved when the whole room had eyes on him. At time of course. And while there were moments where you could laugh at his behavior. The careless sense of freedom he radiated. Much more often his actions just made you jealous. It was stupid. You knew it. Because what could you possibly be jealous of? He wasn’t your boyfriend. Had made it painfully clear that you both were friends. “Love having you as a friend you know”, those words still made your gut reach.
Walk into the kitchen you try to shake off the crappy mood. After all the boys had given you a heads-up about the party. So you had come home prepared to walk into chaos. While you weren’t a fan of Sea of People you could understand why boys loved it. It was great to disappear in the sea of people and equally as much bask in the attention.
Spotting both Declan and Flynn you slowly make your way to them. Letting the comfort of their embraces chase the tension in your body. “Where is Ruhn?”, your eyes scanned the living room over and over again. Trying to find the shit-eating grin. “Oh you will not like it, doll”, Dec whispered, down another shot while Flynn shot daggers at his friend.
“What is that supposed to mean?”, you crossed your arms over your chest.
“Look, he is pretty high…”, “I didn’t ask for the back story. I asked where he was”, you cut him off, frowning. Flynn’s eyes grow sympathetic as he nods towards the back terrace. You take a deep breath before yanking the door open, heart tumbling to your heels almost immediately. The blonde jumped back. Lips puffed as she glared up at you.
“What the fuck, bitch”, she grumbled, pulling her shirt back over her breasts. “Y/N”, Ruhn growled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh, don’t let me stop you”, you hissed, shaking your head. You knew that the fact that he had been slithering into your bed for cuddles for the last month meant nothing. But there was still that stupid part of you…
“Baby, come on”, Ruhn pushed the girl off his lap. “Baby? You said you were single”, the blonde shrieked.
A part of you wanted to unload a shit tonnes of hell on her but she wasn’t the one to blame. So you turned on your heels. Walking past your two other friends who looked as sad and disappointed. But you raised a hand at them not wanting to listen to anyone. You were done. You should have moved out a long time ago. Should have put a stop to this mess.
“Get out of the car”, Rhun growled right as you started your engine. You fixed him a glare, daring him to try you but he stepped right in front of your car. Messing the only way out was to drive him over. “Kill the engine, Y/N”, he grunted. “Fuck yourself backward, asshole”, you slapped your hand on the signal. But you barely managed to blink before he rounded the car. Leaning in through the open window and yanking the keys out.
“Go back to your pussy of the night”, you hissed, trying to grab the keys out of his hands, failing miserably. “What the fuck is up with you tonight”, Ruhn grumbled, eyes blazing. “What’s wrong with me?”, you chuckled bitterly, kicking the door shut behind you, “you know what’s wrong with me”, you bit back.
Ruhn’s face blanched slightly. Of course, he didn’t realize it. Fucking boys. “You and your games and all this shit”, you pushed at his chest, “why the hell have you been coming to my room, hm?”, you pointed a finger at him. “Because I… you bring me comfort”, he shrugged. But you just shook your head, “Can’t that blonde bimbo do the same? Or am I some pity booty call to you”, you hated how fast your eyes started stinging. But you weren’t gonna break. No. You would not let him take the last bit of your dignity too.
“What…”, Ruhn huffed, “You’re my friend we are always there for each other”, he lifted his hands in the air. You let out a grown, “That fucking word!“, it felt like you should be ripping your hair out, “I have feelings for you, idiot!”, you whimpered.
You could practically see the moment all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place for him. He swallowed thickly, turning away from you. But that only made the anger bubble up more. Yanking his shirt you pulled him back, “Look me in the eyes when you break my heart at least”, you hissed. But his eyes were lost and dazed as he looked back at you, “Y/n”, he muttered as if it physically pained him.
Fear flushed through you in that moment. A realization that you actually couldn’t watch him break you apart. “Forget it”, you breathed, “Just save it. I already know what you will say”. You snatched the keys from his hands, moving back towards your car. “Let me fucking talk”, Ruhn pulled at your arm but you yanked it free from his grip. “I gave up on you… on us tonight”, you whispered, lip wobbly, “Nothing you will say will make me change my mind”. Ruhn pulled back as if you had physically burned him, jaw clenched tightly. He opened his mouth one last time and you hoped he would not listen to you. To fight regardless of your words but instead, he turned back, practically running back into the house.
#ruhn danaan x you#ruhn danaan x oc#ruhn danaan imagine#ruhn x reader#prince ruhn#ruhn danaan x reader#ruhn danaan#ruhn crescent city#ruhn x you#crescent city imagine#crescent city x reader#crescent city
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
psycho hoe
all the chapters will have the same pics of her in the pool and him in the wife beater. they have nothing to do with the contents of the chapter itself im just a lazy bum
also layla not gon be here long so im not boutta find sb to be fer face claim
chris x dealer!oc
warnings: toxic relationship (not with tasia), swearing, mentions of sex
chris hated cursing at women. he strongly believed in the difference between cursing with women in casual conversation and cursing at them in order to refrain from driving his fist into the wall.
"you're so stupid! you sit there and smile at the camera and roll your eyes in that way that all these BITCHES go crazy over and then you just sit there all day and do NOTHING while there are other women who want what i have!" his girlfriend of 4 months, layla, was droning on about his fans or whatever the fuck. "look at this!" she shoved her phone in his face. he leaned back and ran his hand over his freshly shaved jaw. "they're literally mocking me on the internet. they made a COMPILAT-"
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" chris was at his breaking point. "first of fucking all, our fans are literally teenagers. 15 year old girls. i want them just as much as nick wants a girlfriend. second, i told you this would happen. maybe if you weren't such a fucking idiot and didn't FORCE me to tell them that we were together, you wouldn't have gotten your feelings hurt." he watched the tears well in her eyes and thought how he couldn't give less of a fuck.
he sighed and began to speak as non-chalantly as possible. "if you're gonna do the whole manipulative 'you hurt my feelings' shit you can go. you literally just called me stupid, after whining about how literal high schoolers are making fun of you. you're nineteen years old. grow up and get over it."
"fuck you chris." she sniffled and gathered her things, and marched (literally marched) to the front door.
with that chris got up and walked towards nicks room. nick always knew what to do in these situations. but when chris entered his brothers room, he heard a female giggle. it wasn't madi's or anyone else he'd recognize.
"hold on chris just walked in." nick set his phone face down and looked to his brother with a 'what's up' look on his face.
"who're you on the phone with?" chris questioned.
"tasia." nick answered with a shrug. "you remember her right? from the party last week?"
do i remember her? chris thought to himself. i fucking wish i could forget her.
"oh yeah." chris played his fascination off. "hey tasia!" he called out, then returned his attention to his brother. "i need to talk to you."
"oh shit." nick picked his phone up and told tasia he had to go and hung up. now all his attention was on chris. "shoot."
"so layla-"
nick interrupted chris with a groan "this bitch again?"
"shut up. anyway. layla was bitching about how the fans are picking on her and how they make edits of me or whatever and i was sitting there listening to it because i don't really care. the fans are gonna do what they want regardless of what we say."
"right." nick agreed.
"right. so i was just sitting there thinking about whatever when she shoved her phone in my face. and that's when i got pissed off."
"you should have bitch slapped her to mars." nick said.
"nick. come on bro." chris laughed and continued. "so i yelled at her told her that this was on her because i told her that this would happen. and how stupid it was to be jealous of kids. and she started crying like she always does. and i kind of felt bad but then i remember what you told me about manipulation and things like that so i told her to leave."
"i just wanna say that i've been told you that i hate her and that she's psycho." nick began his speech with an i told you so. "anyway. i would tell you drop her dumb ass but i know you're not gonna do that. so my official advice is to to call her in the morning and just talk to her. tell her that the fans are gonna do and say whatever comes to their heads and to not listen to them because they have nothing to do with how you feel about her."
chris thought the situation over and decided that nicks advice was probably the safest option.
chris lay in matts bed, who was sound asleep beside him. he stared at his girlfriends contact. he hated this shit. but it was what it was and he had to do what he had to do.
he tapped the call button and place the phone to his ear.
"hello?" chris couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes at the sound of his girlfriends voice. it was ridden in fake heartbreak and phony sorrow.
"hey." was all he could muster up in response.
"chris, baby. are you still mad?"
"baby?" chris mouthed and shook his head. he physically could not do this so early in the morning. "no lay, im not mad."
"good. can i come over? i wanna talk this out with you. i hate it when we fight."
"then maybe shut the fuck up sometimes." is what chris wanted to say. instead he said. "yeah i wanna talk too. but come later tonight at like 6. nick wants me and matt to go with him to run some errands"
"of course baby. i love you."
"i know."
"byeeee" chris ended the call before he could here the smooching sound she always made when they got off the phone.
now you're probably thinking, "why does young christopher stay with this woman when he so obviously is annoyed by her existence?" and the answer to that is, he didn't want to deal with the drama he knew she would start on the internet.
had layla not made him hard launch their relationship after a month of being official, he'd have no issue cutting ties with her. but she put the pussy on him and before the post-nut clarity kicked in, she asked and he agreed like a dummy.
you're also probably thinking, "why did he get with her in the first place?" and the answer to that is layla is a great actress. oscar worthy honestly. she seemed like a semi-normal person. she made him laugh, she was a good fuck, and she kept him from sleeping until 2 pm. and that was enough for him. he didn't love her or anything but he used to like her.
now the sound of her name brought dread into his heart. but chris was nothing if not self-preservative. so hes gonna ride this shit out until he has no choice but to end it.
chris was drawn out of his thoughts by his second oldest brother bursting through the cracked door. "matt, chris get the fuck out of bed. i have to go to target, then return shit to tasia, and then i gotta take pictures for fucking instagram. and we need more pictures for this weeks photo dump because so far all we have is two and theyre both of chris so..."
"are you done?" chris asked. "all you had to say was you were ready to go."
"fuck off. come on its already 10." nick responded by picking up mr. wrinkleton and chucking him at matts head. "matt, get up!"
"HEY! don't do that shit again." matt shouted at his brother, who was already on his way out the door.
niyah speaks💗
okay this is the second chapter im posting tonight. imma do one more because i just want yall to get the vibe of the series then imma post like every few days. i really dont know but ik i had these chapters ready for today so yall gonna get them today.
remember that if no one loves you, mommy loves you (and by mommy i mean me)
taglist: @liafilmed
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Superman (5)
Javier Peña x F!Reader
30 Day Fic Challenge
Warnings: All my fics are 18+. Cursing, anger, tension.
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: 5 times Character A (Javi) helped Character B (Reader), and one time Character B (Reader) helped character A (Javi). Javi helps you even when you two aren't on the best terms.
A/N: This is part 5 of 6 of this mini series I’ve had on the back burner for months!!! Just a little childhood friends to lovers. <3
Narcos Taglist: @drabbles-mc @narcolini @justreblogginfics @Hausofmamadas
Story Index Here
“What the fuck do they expect me to do? Sit back and do nothing? What was the point in bringing a medical team out here? For what?” Your voice was loud over the phone, not letting any greeting or pleasantries be spoken first, just diving right to the problem.
Javi’s breath hitched for a moment hearing your voice. It was the first time in weeks, since that night actually. If he was being honest, he expected to never hear from you again. 15 years of friendship down the drain but the pity party he was throwing for himself convinced him it was a reasonable punishment for what he did. His eyes immediately darted to Steve and Connie who were in his apartment for dinner, something about creating a sense of normalcy. Javi knew the minute he boarded that plane that his life was about to change completely, its what made losing his friendship with you bearable. Not being home where he’d run into you or be reminded of you was the best thing for him. So the last thing he needed was normalcy, he wanted things to feel as different as possible.
But now, he was standing in his apartment in Colombia, with the two newest people in his life that he felt like he had known for years as you screamed over the phone about something he had absolutely no clue about. The thing with Connie and Steve was that time passed differently in Colombia, specifically when you worked or associated with the DEA, things needed to move quicker, you needed to build your bonds and choose who to trust fast. But yet, Javi felt awkward. While Steve knew things about Javi, he never mentioned you. He knew things about Texas, about Javi’s upbringing, even his Dad’s ranch, but nothing about you.
“Uh,” Javi made eye contact with Connie before turning his body away from them, not able to go far since the phone was connected to the wall. The way your name rolled off his tongue grounded you immediately. You knew calling him was the best option after what you just went through. It was ao relieving that you missed the tone he had soaked your name in.
It had confusion behind it, a tang of frustration, maybe a little anger.
“What, uh-“ Javi stuttered, completely unsure what to do or say.
“He’s talking to a girl!” Connie whispered to Steve in excitement.
Steve had been blissfully unaware as he reached over the table for a second helping. Connie’s swat to his chest to grab his attention, causing him to drop the serving spoon. His annoyance grew as he turned to Connie with a questionable look.
“What now?” His shoulders dropped and Connie nudged him towards Javi on the phone. “Peña talking to a girl, not big news Connie.” Steve moved back to grabbing the food.
Now, he was right. Javi had always been a flirt, that was something that didn’t change even though his setting did. Whatever it took to catch Escobar, right? Javi might have offered a comment or two to women they came across to get information, something that professionally was for sure considered as crossing the line but nothing too crazy.
“No, Steve. This is THE girl.” Connie smirked as she saw Javi trip up on his words, not having a single full sentence leave his mouth since he answered.
“THE girl?” Steve questioned thinking back if Javi’s ever mentioned anything. “He’s never said anything about having a wife or even a girlfriend.”
Connie rolled her eyes, and stood up. “Come on, let’s give him privacy.”
With that, she was dragging Steve out of Javi’s apartment with a wave and right before she closed the door she peaked her head back in and spoke at a stage whisper. “I want details next time I see you!!”
Javi closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall in defeat.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” Your heart sank hearing the woman’s voice in the background. You weren’t mad, you weren’t even sure what you had expected from him.
“No, no,” Javi stumbled still on his words but spoke with more urgency. “that was just my partner and his wife, they came by for dinner.” His hand trailed up to rake through his hair.
“Oh, that’s nice.” You felt like you had just intruded, even though you were on the phone it felt like you had just walked in on everyone and all eyes were on you. You had never felt like this with Javi, you had come over plenty of times unannounced during dinner time at his house, even when he lived alone. You would cold call him frequently, but in this moment you felt beyond awkward.
Javi sighed, since Connie and Steve had left, he figured now was the best time as any to get into everything with you.
“Didn’t think I’d hear from you.” Javi settled against the wall.
“What?” You were genuinely shocked. Javi was your best friend, of course he’d hear from you?
“It’s been 5 weeks.”
It was a matter of fact coming from him. Like that sentence alone explained where he was coming from, but on the other side you looked deeper into it, knowing he had been keeping track.
“I just needed some time. Things have been, well, crazy.” You offered an honest but half truth.
“Tell me about it.” Javi nodded. There was some silence on the line, just minor static from the landline. “So I take it you got my letter since you dialed my number.”
“I was at the airport.” You blurted out.
Javi didn’t know how to process that. So he just asked for a repetition of your sentence.
“You what?”’
“I was at the airport, in my dress, with your letter.” You repeated with more detail.
“And?” He said, the anger starting to poison his voice.
“I saw you and I realized if I said anything to you, if I approached you, you wouldn’t go. Or you would go, and both of those options just didn’t seem like ones I could handle.”
“So you let me believe this entire time that our friendship was over? That was something you could handle? Because you knew it wasn’t.”
When he put it like that it sounded way worse than what it really was for you. You didn’t want to be the reason he stayed, but you also couldn’t send him off with everything that happened.
“I didn’t know it wasn’t.” You tried to plea with him.
“If you read the note…” He trailed off without finishing his sentence.
“The note is,” You wanted to argue with him but you couldn’t tarnish the note, it was special, it was everything you wish Javi said to you about this opportunity, about your friendship, your relationship, it did make everything better for you, and even though he didn’t say it, you knew it meant the friendship wasn’t over. But from Javi’s point of view, the radio silence from you was all he had to go off of.
“The note is everything I wished you told me.”
“That’s why I wrote it.”
The silence took over and all you could hear was slight static on the other line and light breathing from Javi.
“So they’re red taping you?” He changed the conversation.
“Big time.” You looked around your living quarters to make sure no one was around, although they likely recorded the phone calls.
“How long you been on assignment?” He was curious but also a little worried, not knowing where you were, what you were up to, it was better when he was in the complete dark thinking you were still in Texas.
“A week and a half. When you left, I applied to a bunch of stuff, just wanted to get out. Everything reminded me of you.”
“How’s that going?” He knew the answer because even in a completely different country he still find his mind thinking of you.
You didn’t say anything, just laughed at the comment because you knew what it meant for the both of you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you at the airport. You just looked… different.”
It was true, it wasn’t the only reason you didn’t approach him but it was one of them.
“I feel different.” He raised his eyebrows and ran his hand over his face.
“They red taping you out there?” You asked him the same question he asked you.
“There’s a lot of unofficial field outings.” He explained in the best way possible without saying much at all.
“You sound exhausted.”
“Don’t really sleep much these days.”
“The man who could make a bed out of anything, anywhere can’t sleep? Things are upside down.” You teased.
“I haven’t talked to you in 5 weeks, things are extremely upside down.”
It was said so easily but it landed on your heart so heavily.
“What are we doing?” You asked, confused what this part of life meant for you.
“You wanna work somewhere without red tape?” Javi asked, not really answering your question.
“Yes, obviously.”
“I can pull some strings, we could use a medic down here, there’s actually a hospital down the road from us, my partner’s wife actually works there, could get the agency to sign off on having someone internal join down there.”
“You convincing me or yourself?”
“The suits.” He laughed. “But I’m serious. I could figure it out.”
“Always saving me, Peña. Even when you hate me.”
“Could never hate you.” He sighed giving in to his frustration and just being happy to hear your voice and look forward to the thought of seeing you again.
#Narcos#Narcos Netflix#Javier Pena#Javier Peña#Javi Pena#Javier Pena x You#Javier Pena x Reader#Narcos Fanfiction
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
once again minecraft fans be mad for all the wrong reasons
#minecraft#june speaks#dawg if u wanna be mad about the vault block be mad that we had to wait ages just to learn the key is used for what seems to be midgame gea#not that the vault performs an incredibly basic multiplayer feature that shoulda been added ages ago#it only feels like a disappointing feature cuz they took so long to tell us ''oh yea it unlocks player-specific loot containers''#which is a good fucking feature even if it's not particularly interesting! i'm very glad they added it!#this game really does need some multiplayer QoL changes when it comes to the gameplay n this is a great step towards that#it's just stupid to have to wait two months to learn that when by all means we were made to expect it did something more interesting like#idfk. open a secret area or summon a boss. which maybe it could still do! we just don't know yet. update's not fully announced yet!#personally imma save my negative feelings (beyond being annoyed having to wait that long for something that simple) for AFTER the update#at which point if the vault doesn't ever give better loot or if the keys never get any more uses i'll feel a justified mild disappointment#which like ngl. even that's motivated purely by my position as a seasoned player#i'm certain that as-is the vault is amazing for new and learning players in every possible regard. it's a good block n a great feature#but even considering that i feel like it's reasonable to want to be catered to a little bit as a seasoned player yknow?#beyond insanely tedious self-imposed tasks there's not a lot to minecraft's endgame. beat it a hundred times n eventually you get bored#which i think is why a lotta other people get so annoyed with some of these updates too#there's just not a lot bein added for the sake of catering to old players who want new experiences most of the time#anywho that's my bi-monthly minecraft rant outta the way lol
1 note
·
View note
Text
if there is no movie on any of my sketchy sites or in any of my weird gcs when i wake up tomorrow...
#no because i hate this#you know if it was [redacted] we would have 4k version in first 10 mins#geoblocking it to usa is stupid anyway because you know it will end up 🏴☠️🏴☠️ anyways#and showing it in europe months after is pointless especially when most of us live in homophobic places ☠️#but like who will give a fuck at that point when it comes months after girl we are tired#followed by zero promotion i'm seriousss#i tried to pay with vpn i never do that but noo#they don't want the money so bad 🤪🤪#stop sinking my fav story like that!!!#christ alive#vtalks
0 notes
Note
Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side
read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2
he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.
and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀
you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??
messages;
ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning
you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/
you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋
ryo<3: have fun 👍
omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.
he being satoru.
it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.
there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.
let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.
at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.
it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.
“did you buy the candy?”
“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”
“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.
he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.
“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”
us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—
“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”
*bonus*
sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;
but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦♀️
a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶
*not edited*
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu satoru#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#jjk sukuna smut#sukuna smut#smut#ryomen sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#poc reader#jjk sukuna x reader#jjk choso#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk asks#anon ask#ask me anything
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
a brief recap of what has been going on with the sonic movieverse in the past several months:
paramount has come out in public support of israel
keanu reeves, a man who has publicly rubbed elbows with none other than benjamin netanyahu, reportedly gets cast as shadow for the upcoming third movie
james marsden, the guy who plays tom, got exposed as having written a letter of support for a convicted pedophile
there's fucking??? zionist propaganda in the knuckles series???
kind of connected to the last point but adam pally, the guy who plays wade, is evidently pro-israel too
this is a complete and utter joke.
EDIT AS OF 4/30/24: if people see this version of the post, i'd really appreciate it if you reblog it instead of the other versions, as it's the most updated one with all the information that i want included. thank you :]
you know, it's been a few days since i've made this post, and some of you (not most) are staying determined in defending/justifying/giving the benefit of the doubt to keanu for that photo with netanyahu, whether it's because "it was a decade ago," "him being civil to someone he ran into at a party one time doesn't mean anything," "he's probably just silent because his pr managers won't allow him to speak up," etc. i've made my thoughts on the matter quite clear by directly responding to these people, but at this point, i'm tired of both seeing them in my notes and repeating myself, so take this as my final word on the issue.
i can't help it if you don't think the photo with netanyahu is damning, and i'm done engaging with everyone going out of their way to tell me that. i obviously disagree, especially after finding out that 1. the host of the party, arnon milchan, is a former israeli spy who has a history of developing israel's nuclear program and promoting apartheid in south africa (information that had broken out a few months prior to the party and thus would've been fresh news around the time keanu chose to attend) and 2. keanu has been caught hanging around at least two other weirdos, but if you don't find any of that to be cause for reasonable concern, then there really is nothing else i can say afaik.
with all that said, i'm beginning to realize how strange it is that these people's first instinct when seeing this post is to start debating about keanu's political stances without ever acknowledging any of the other bullet points. you guys realize that this isn't just about him, right? i know tumblr reading comprehension is known for being piss-poor, but like… you realize that i was trying to make a point of how there are MULTIPLE terrible things that have broken out about the people and company involved in the sonic movies, right? and yet, a lot of the people leaping to speak on keanu's behalf in my notes are completely ignoring the parts where i bring up paramount, pally, etc. all in favor of zeroing in on the singular point about keanu and making bad faith assumptions about me for holding him accountable. really makes one wonder where your priorities lie if, in a post that talks about so many other things, me accusing an a-list celebrity with, according to google, a net worth of almost $400 million is where you draw the line and apparently the only thing worth your acknowledgment.
ultimately, what i'm trying to say is that the intention of this post was just to gather up everything that i had been hearing for the past several months and put it all together in one place. there were a bunch of people who didn't know about at least one of the bullet points before seeing this post, and i'm glad that i could help inform them, that was what i was hoping to do! but as for the keanu thing, i've said pretty much all i can say for now, and i don't want to derail the original post even more than i may have already. unless something new comes up, i'm done talking about him.
#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic movie#.sbs3#yeah no i WILL be annoying about this#because what the fuck
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
an. part two of this | masterlist
You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.
“It just…didn’t work out.”
It didn’t work out.
He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.
It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be.
Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.
If only he believed them.
He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs.
(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)
That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.
You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone.
A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”
You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”
Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.
That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.
It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.
Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.
(Always has been.)
His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.
He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.
He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.
(It’s more than just a key.)
Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex.
(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)
There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house.
Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.
(That’s what he thought.)
If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.
The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.
He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.
“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”
You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.
“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”
He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.
His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.
“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”
He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”
You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused.
“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you.
Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.
But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…
Maybe you already know.
#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod smut#cod imagine#cod x reader#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#mw2 imagine#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#ghost smut#.things i write
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━
Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesn’t talk much.
No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
“I’m good.”
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"Aquí estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara fluff#miguel ohara smut#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv#peter b parker
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#angst#angst with a happy ending#john soap mactavish
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Is That A Promise? (Venom One-Shot)
Eddie Brock x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged
Summary: Telling you about Venom does not go entirely how Eddie planned.
CW: mentions of monster fucking, Eddie is oblivious and a dumbass (I think I have a type)
Venom Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
You’d known Eddie Brock a good while by this point. You’d started dating him a while back, and while he put others on edge, you’d found the way he talked to himself out loud rather charming, actually.
At first, you weren’t sure if he was just unmedicated, or undiagnosed. But then the news broke about the symbiote, and then there was the footage. And when Eddie started coming home right after news broke of some other attack or taking out of a bad guy or criminal or whoever, you’d put two and two together.
It was kind of hard not to. Particularly as his conversations with himself could vary from topic to topic in the span of six words or less.
Eddie had asked to meet up for lunch today at your favourite restaurant. He’d seemed a bit off on the phone, and given how prone you were to anxiety, your immediate thought had been that he was breaking up with you and that you’d done something to upset him or his bodily guest- who you did not officially know about, of course.
You’d gotten there early to prepare yourself for whatever shitshow was about to follow and to your immense surprise, Eddie had shown up pretty much right after you. Eddie was always running late, so this change in pace was also mildly concerning. You were not sure how this was going to go and you did not like that one bit.
“You’re here early, too,” Eddie had said, swallowing thickly and avoiding eye contact. You nodded, and cleared your throat, gesturing for him to sit down at the table opposite you.
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure we had a spot,” you replied, smoothing down your shirt. Bit of a nervous habit. That and ripping at your nails, but that was beside the point.
“Right,” Eddie replied.
And then the two of you lapsed into silence. You spent a good five to ten minutes appearing to read over the menu as if this wasn’t a regular spot for you and you didn’t know exactly what you were going to order. In fact, you’d be surprised if the cooks weren’t already making it up for you even though a waiter hadn’t come over yet.
“Shut up,” Eddie hissed quietly. You peered over the menu to eye him curiously, one brow arced in question.
“I didn’t say anything, Eddie.”
“Yeah, I know. I- uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You hummed, and put the menu down to give him your attention.
“About me shutting up?”
“No- God, this is not going at all like I planned.” Eddie rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.
You said nothing, waiting patiently for him to work out his wording.
“I really like you,” he started, and you nodded, replying with the same sentiment. “And, well, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”
“Right…” This is where you expected him to tell you he was married (doubtful but not impossible) or had cancer or something terrible. Dear God, please no.
“Look- you’ve seen on the news, yes, the, uh- the attacks. Yeah?”
You nod. Ah, so he was finally telling you about his friend living literally rent-free in his body. Okay, you could relax a little.
“He’s me. Venom, he lives in my body. He’s in my head. Like, all the time. Right now.”
Eddie looked at the table where he was picking at the tablecloth. You were silent for a second, and Eddie clearly took that to mean you were horrified or disgusted or something. You were a little nervous about it, sure, but you’d also been living with him for the last few months. If Venom was planning to take you out, he would have done so by now, surely. You figured this to mean you were safe enough. You’d also seen your fair share of monster porn, so you weren’t exactly unkeen on the idea of dating someone who sometimes had a monster body. It was kind of hot, actually. You shook the thought out of your head and tried to focus.
“Oh, yeah- I knew about that,” you replied, and the way Eddie’s head snapped towards you was almost comical.
“You what?”
“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. I was just waiting for you to tell me in your own time.”
Eddie blinked, and a black residue appeared on the back of his hand. It swirled and gathered on his hand before reaching for you delicately. You met it, brushing your finger over it softly. The goop (for lack of a better word) seemed to shiver pleasurably and you smiled.
“Can I meet him later?”
Eddie nodded, watching the interaction with disbelief. He’d thought that you’d go running and screaming through the doors or something, not be rubbing your fingers over Venom like you were fingering some Play-Doh.
“Y-yeah, later,” he agreed. “Not here. When we get home.”
You grinned and the black substance retreated back into Eddie’s skin as a waiter appeared by your table.
“What can I get for you? The regular?”
You looked at Eddie and clicked your tongue thoughtfully.
“The usual with a serving of chicken nuggets on the side, please.”
The waiter nodded, scribbled it own on his pad and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. Eddie looked at you in question. He knew you weren’t big on nuggets.
“They’re for Venom,” you explained, propping your head up on your palm. Eddie looked to the side as if listening to something carefully.
“Venom says thank you-” Eddie said before cutting himself as Venom said something else in his head. “No, I’m not saying that. No. No.”
“Say what?”
Eddie sighed defeatedly- something you think he did a lot when it came to Venom.
“Venom said he could kiss you right now.” Eddie looked mortified as the words left his mouth. You burst into laughter.
“Is that a threat or a promise? I hope it’s a promise,” you replied, wiggling your eyebrows at the two of them.
Eddie swallowed thickly and blushed as Venom said something else. You’d have to see if Venom could swap hosts sometime. It would be nice to have a conversation while out and about like that.
“Promise,” Eddie replied.
Good.
#A/N: my first Venom work! EEEE- keen to write more for these two#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock scenario#eddie brock oneshot#eddie brock one-shot#eddie brock one shot#eddie brock headcanon#eddie brock headcanons#eddie brock hc#eddie brock hcs#eddie brock fanfiction#eddie brock fanfic#eddie brock fic#eddie brock x you#eddie brock x y/n#eddie brock blurb#eddie brock drabble#eddie brock dialogue#venom x reader#venom x you#venom x y/n#venom fanfiction#venom oneshot#venom imagine#venom drabble#venom blurb#veddie x reader#veddie#tom hardy
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
meeting robin
the justice league is happy that batman is socializing, but they're worried that he doesn't seem to notice when robin is switched out every few years
warnings and tags: miscommunication but it's funny, alien invasion, mentioned violence
“Batman,” Clark said slowly, “why do you have a second heartbeat?”
Instead of responding, Batman grunted.
“A second heartbeat?” Barry questioned, zipping over. “How would that even work?”
Another grunt from Batman.
“Batman?”
“I don’t.”
“But I can hear a second heartbeat coming from you.” Clark said, confused.
“It’s not mine.”
Barry choked. “Huh? Who is it then?”
“Robin’s.”
Clark frowned. “Who’s Robin?”
Batman grunted again, and Barry groaned.
“Come on, man!”
Then, Batman’s cape, which hid his entire body, shifted. Clark heard a small giggle. A child popped out, beaming.
“I’m Robin!” he exclaimed, clearly excited to be there. Barry was startled and jumped back a bit.
“What the f-” he stopped short when Batman glared at him. “Fudge?”
“Batman, what is…who is this?” Clark asked.
“This is Robin.” Batman said, like it explained anything.
“We got that. Why is he here?”
Robin bounced. “I’m gonna help!” he said, and Clark caught an accent he couldn’t quite place.
“Help?”
This got him a nod. “Yeah. B said I was ready to meet the Justice League!”
“Who’s B?”
Robin squinted at Barry’s question. Then pointed up at Batman. “B.”
“Batman, where’s Robin?” Diana asked, surprised the young vigilante wasn’t with Batman.
“He’s busy. Couldn’t come.” Batman said, and Diana got the sense that there was something that Batman wasn’t saying to her, but she decided to leave it be.
“I see. Is he alright?”
“Fine. Work.” Batman seemed to be giving short answers again, something he’d stopped doing after Robin had shown up.
“Well, tell him we all missed him, please.”
Batman grunted.
“Batman, what happened to Robin?” Barry questioned, staring at the small boy that had replaced the teen they’d watched grow up. This one seemed shy, half hidden behind Batman.
“Nothing.”
“Well something had to have happened, Robin was a lot taller last time we saw him.” Clark said, also watching the boy. “That’s not the same person.”
“No.” Batman said in an almost growl.
“Huh?” Barry said, confused.
“That’s not the Robin we know. That’s someone else.” Clark said.
“We’re ready to start.” Diana said from behind Batman and Robin, the latter of which startled by her.
Clark heard a quiet ‘woah’ from the boy and smiled. He must be a fan of Wonder Woman.
The Justice League and Robin shuffled into the meeting room, Robin sitting in a chair very close to Batman.
For the entire meeting, he sat quietly, mostly watching Diana with obvious wonder across his face.
Afterwards, Diana approached him, kneeling down to his level.
“Hello. My name is Diana.”
“H-hi.”
“How long have you been Robin?” she asked gently.
“Uh,” he looked up at Batman, who nodded encouragingly to the small boy. “A few months.”
“And are you enjoying it?”
Robin nodded. “Yeah. It’s fun and we get ta help people.'' This boy had an accent as well, though it was quite different from the first Robin’s.
“That’s wonderful.” Diana said. “We’re excited to work with you, Robin.” the kid beamed, looking like he was having the best day of his life.
“Batman, what the fuck?” Barry exclaimed, ignoring the various looks he got at the curse. “Why did Robin get smaller again?”
“Because I’m a different person.” Robin said.
“But he just replaced the first one like, two years ago!”
“Four, actually.”
“Batman? Could you explain, please?” Diana asked.
They got a grunt in response.
Clark sighed. “Batman, please, can you explain this?”
Robin scoffed. “Are you stupid?”
“Robin.” Batman’s tone had a warning in it.
“There’s nothing to explain.”
A grunt.
“Batman, Robin is a girl.” Hal said, confused and done with the entire thing.
“Is that a problem, fuckface?” The entire League took a step back, surprised by this Robin’s language.
“No, of course not. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Hal said, trying to recover.
Robin huffed before turning back to Batman.
“Language, Robin.” was Batman’s response.
“Oh, come on, I coulda said a whole lot worse.” Her accent reminded Clark of the second Robin’s accent, though more pronounced.
“Tell that to Agent A.”
Robin gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
Batman grunted, though this sounded like one of his amused grunts.
“Fiiine.” She turned to Hal. “I'm sorry for calling you a fuckface.” that got a sigh from Batman.
She turned back to Batman. “Happy?”
Batman grunted again, and while Robin seemed content, Clark and the rest of the league had no idea what it meant.
“Oh my god, this one has a sword!” Hal screeched, running into the meeting room.
“Who does?” Diana asked, standing.
“Robin! Batman got a new one and he has a sword! He tried to stab me!”
“If I had tried to stab you, you would have been stabbed.” a small voice said from the doorway.
Everyone looked over to find Robin, scowling and glaring at all of them.
“He looks just like Batman.” Barry whispered, and Clark agreed. The boy in front of them had an uncanny similarity to Batman.
“Of course I look like him, I’m his son.” Robin snapped, and there were various gasps around the room.
“His son?” Barry’s pitch was high enough that Clark winced.
“Yes.”
“Robin.” Batman appeared behind Robin, frowning at the small boy and looking more annoyed then concerned. “Please don’t stab them. They are our allies, not our enemies.”
Robin looked annoyed, glaring at the Justice League. “Fine.”
“Go sit.” Batman said, nudging the boy towards a chair.
Clark looked up when the computer whirred to life.
“Recognized, Nightwing, B-0-1. Recognized, Red Robin, B-0-3. Recognized, Spoiler, B-0-4. Recognized, Robin, B-0-5.”
Clark stood and walked over to the zeta tube, staring at the four people that stepped out.
“Hey, Supes!”
“Who are you?” he asked, confused.
“We’re-” the one in black and blue started, but was interrupted by the one in red.
“We’re looking for Batman. It’s an emergency.” he stated, matter of fact. “Where is he?”
Clark hesitated. He didn’t know these people or how they got into the tower to begin with, but he wasn’t keen on taking them to Batman.
He didn’t have time to make a decision before the zeta tube started again.
“Recognized, Red Hood, B-0-2.”
He knew that Red Hood was a crime lord, how was the computer recognizing him?
“Where’s B?” Hood asked as soon as he was through.
“We’re still working on that.”
Hood groaned. “What part of ‘emergency’ did you not understand?”
The person dressed in purple scoffed. “We just got here and Superman is in the way. You wanna fight Superman?”
Hood looked over at Clark. “Hi.”
“Hi. What’s going on?”
“We need Batman. Got a bit of an emergency.”
Clark frowned and looked down at Robin. “Robin, what is going on? Who are these people?”
Robin scoffed. “Hood and Red Robin both informed you of what is going on, Superman. I didn’t know you were that dense.”
At least he knew the name of one of the new ones.
“Alright. Just, stay here, okay?”
“Fine.” Robin snapped, looking annoyed.
Clark went over to the chair he’d been in and hit the intercom. “Batman, you’re needed by the zeta tubes.”
A few minutes later, Batman appeared. When he saw the assortment of vigilantes, he sighed loudly.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding tired.
“We are being attacked by aliens.” the one in purple said.
Clark frowned and Batman shook his head.
“So you came up here to tell me instead of using the coms? Why?”
“Well, the com lines are down.” Hood said. “So yes, we came up here.”
“B, we really need to go take care of the aliens. Can we go?” the one in black and blue asked.
“Yes. Go, I’ll be down in a minute.” Batman said, still just sounding mildly inconvenienced instead of like someone who was just informed of an alien invasion.
As soon as they were all gone, Clark rounded on Batman. “What the hell? Who are they?”
Batman grunted. “Notify the rest of the League, then get down there.” he walked away, and left through the zeta tube.
Clark sighed and did as Batman had asked.
“Will you explain this now?” Clark asked, waving at the group of vigilantes that all said they worked with Batman, despite the League only knowing about Robin.
Batman just grunted and Clark was about to lose it, but then Batman said, “Robin.”
Clark stopped. “Huh?”
“Nightwing was the first Robin, Hood the second, Red Robin the third, and Spoiler the fourth. Orphan was never Robin, but she was Batgirl. Signal is new and has only ever been Signal.
“What the fuck?” Barry exclaimed. “I thought they all died!”
Hood raised his hand. “I did die.”
Batman sighed at that.
“Did he really?” Clark asked.
“Yes. But he’s fine now.”
“Am I?”
Batman groaned.
#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#justice league#miscommunication#humor#fluff#my work
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Eddie started finding notes in his locker his sophomore year. The first couple of them, he just tossed without reading. He didn’t need to read what those asshole bullies wanted to say about him. But curiosity won out after two weeks of constant notes and he finally opened one. It was the single most impactful thing he’d ever read.
I think you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.
He kept that note. And every other note he got from that point on. If anyone were to ask Eddie what he regretted most in his life, it would be those two weeks of notes he tossed without reading. Ten slips of paper with unknown writing that he wishes he could get back. Add them to his ‘mystery boys notes’ box. And he was a mystery, the note writer. Anonymous. Unknown. Impossible to catch.
Eddie held out for a month. A whole month before he decided to stage a stake out. He watched his locker like a hawk. In between classes, during classes, lunch, after school and even one absolutely horrible day where he came in an hour before school started. But the mystery boy had to be invisible. He never saw anyone approach his locker but his daily note was always there. And Eddie; poor, unfortunate, infatuated Eddie dealt with mystery boys’ notes from ‘82 to ‘85. Four agonizing years of the most heart-warming, loving notes.
I wish I was as brave as you.
Did you change your shampoo? Your hair looked so soft today.
God, your eyes have to be the biggest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen. So pretty.
I like how long your hair is getting.
Saw you walking down the hall today and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more.
They started cute. Compliments here and there, even a doodle every once in a while. Hearts and smiley faces. But as the months and years went by, the mystery boy got deeper. Confessions and secrets.
I think if I had a different dad, we would’ve been best friends.
Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never talked to?
I dream about us.
I’m a boy. I’m sorry.
I want to hold your hand. Those rings are something else.
I saw you trying to catch me. Adorable.
I wish I could take you on a date. Not give a shit what my dad would say or what people would think.
I wish I could be brave enough to talk to you.
You’re still the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.
I’m graduating this year. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you. I think I’m going to try to figure out a way to keep dropping these off next year. I don’t want you to forget about me.
The notes didn’t continue when the school year started. Eddie was embarrassed to admit he cried that first night. He wasn’t sure how the mystery boy was going to be able to get the notes to him but he fully believed it was going to happen. He went five weeks with no daily note in his locker. And then, it showed up on a Monday. He almost missed it, the tiny slip of paper.
Sorry this took so long. Had to figure out how I was going to sneak these in here. I don’t think I’ll be able to call you pretty every day of the week this time around but I’m going to try my best!
And mystery boy was right. The notes were always there on Monday. Just Monday. But Eddie didn’t complain. One note a week after five weeks of nothing almost had his heart bursting from his chest. It also narrowed down his search. Sort of. Mystery boy was either coming in on those Mondays to drop off the note, sneaking in on the weekends when the school was empty OR after school on Fridays. And look, he’s failed to graduate high school two times in a row now but he wasn’t stupid. Did it take him three months after the notes to start again for him to realize who it was? Yes but to be fair, for two of those months it was Eddie wallowing in denial.
Five weeks into school was when he restarted Hellfire. Three weeks before that was when he brought in those new little freshman sheepies. The same freshman sheepies that got picked up by Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who graduated last year. Steve Harrington who he catches staring at him from his beemer in the parking lot every Friday night before he takes the kiddies home. Steve who he categorizes as someone who is so far out of his league that it just couldn’t be him. But it’s been three months and there isn’t any other former Hawkins high student running around in or near the school. And now that Eddie’s almost certain Steve has been mystery boy these past few years, he can’t wait. He’s been in love with a figure made out of slips of paper for four years and his nonexistent patience has truly run thin.
He calls for a break 15 minutes before they normally end their sessions. Tells the boys he needs to run to the bathroom and almost sprints out the door. His locker sits in the hallway just around the corner of the drama room. The door closing shut echos through the empty hallways, alongside the squeaks coming from his shoes as he hustles towards his locker. He freezes as soon as he turns the corner.
Steve probably only had 30 seconds after hearing the door open and shut to process what he was going to do. He could’ve run or hid, maybe pretend like he just needed the bathroom while he waited. But Eddie watched him pause as they made eye contact instead. Watched as Steve looked him up and down. Watched him relax and lean back against the lockers behind him with a lazy smirk. His arm slowly moved up and Eddie could see a slip of paper held between his fingers. Steve didn’t break eye contact with him at all as he proceeded to shove the paper between the vents of his locker. They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Staring. Broken when Steve pushed himself off the wall and walked towards him. He didn’t stop. Side stepped around Eddie before they could collide. A faint brush of his fingers along the back of his hand as he walked past him. And Eddie just watched him pass. Just like he watched him slip that note in his locker, he watched Steve walk back down the hall and out the front doors.
He waited only five seconds after the doors closed behind Steve before he jogged over to his locker. Grabbed the note and shoved it into his pocket before running back over to the drama room. Told the guys that they stopped at a decent spot and would meet again next Friday. Walked with them to the parking lot to head home. To catch a glimpse of Steve. And there he was, sitting in his beemer, staring again. This time though, Eddie smiled at him. He smiled at him and pulled the note out of his pocket. Opened it right there in the parking lot while he stared back at Steve. It only took him a few seconds to glance down to read. And as soon as he did, he threw his head back and laughed. Cackled really. He looked back at the beemer and saw Steve with the widest grin. Watched him lift his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggle them at him before he started pulling out of the lot. He looked back down at the note in his hand and chuckled again. Who knew Steve Harrington knew DnD well enough to draw a perfect rendition of an eight sided dice?
Wanna go on a d8? - Steve Harrington xxx-xxx-xxxx
7K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
saturniandevil
Studies In Astrology
eqxrzbook
eqxrzbook
delacroix-night
Delacroix night
jollyscreenwritingastrologyroad
Crowley
justshadesofgreyarchive
* BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I HAVE A MOTIVE.