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astayinwonderland · 6 months

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"After all, you're my wife." | Choi San

pairings: san x f.reader

genre: smut | fluff (if you squint)| +18 minors DNI

this is a mix between a poll and a request by @elfemi

summary: you marry san to make an alliance, and the agreement includes to live separate lives, but both of you seem to want each other (mafia!au)

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, san calls you his little pet, cursing, degrading, praising, unprotected sex (pls no), cum play, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of violence (not towards reader) and drugs -- lmk if I forgot anything

Enjoy! (;

There are two things you have very clear. Your dad is dead and you fucking hate Choi San. Inheriting the position of mafia leader was your birthright, your dad raised you to be that woman. However, not everyone wants to see a woman in such a powerful position, to their misfortune, you were the late mafia boss��s only child.

When your father fell ill, you knew it was time to get your position as leader and boss secure. That meant allying with someone rich and powerful. You were surprised that all eligible bachelors were too old, too young, or not powerful enough.

Theo was standing behind you as your eyes scanned the guests your dad’s most trusted assistant invited for a ‘get-together and mingle with the corrupt elite of the country. He had become like an uncle to you, a genuine part of the family. With his kind eyes, but cold demeanor, he is the perfect person to have your back.

“What about him?” Theo said.

“Ugh no…”

“You can’t keep saying no to everyone. Choose or I will choose for you tonight,” your dad finally spoke. Eyes not looking at you. This is not his favourite idea ever, but it was necessary.

You couldn’t picture yourself with any of these men, but it was your duty. So you tried your best to be somewhat amicable and get to like at least one of them. With your wine glass in hand, you decided to talk to your pursuers. They would throw themselves at your feet, showering with compliments, showing off their riches, and to be honest being completely obnoxious. This is not what you needed. You needed someone who you could make a deal with and live separate lives while keeping the façade of a marriage.

Shit, this was going to be hard.

The door opened and at that moment you knew something was off. The entire room fell silent when the man with broad shoulders and shiny black hair walked in. His face was expressionless, with high cheekbones, and not a trace of sympathy. You would think he would come to greet you, that’s the reason why he is there, but he just bows in your direction and walks over to the bar.

The conversation around you resumed, whispers commented on the politician’s son. His father was a powerful drug lord who controlled one of the borders. No wonder he has so much influence. Your brain made a quick list of pros and cons, and so it seemed Choi San would be the right choice for you.

___________________________________

San was aware his father was a criminal but when he was pushed to marry you, he did everything he could think of to change his father’s mind. He begged he asked to be sent away, hell, he even asked for physical punishment. But Mr. Choi was a greedy, greedy man, and he saw in you an opportunity to be even greedier, richer, and more powerful. This was truly the perfect alliance.

Your dad’s body wasn’t ever cold yet when San got the call and the whole marriage circus began to play. At least the ceremony would be short and he would get to move into his room in your mansion and get it over with. San only met you that one time, but he remembered very well how you looked. In one word, terrifying. You would make the perfect fake wife.

San watched you walk toward him dressed in black, a dress that covered your legs right above the knees but left little to his imagination from the way the cleavage showed off your round and soft breasts. He just politely nodded at you. At the end of the day, there was nothing to celebrate, your dad was dead and he had to pretend to be your loving husband for the rest of his life or until something or someone killed him.

With no kiss to seal the deal, San just signed the papers and tried to give you a smile, which was awkward.

“I am sorry for your loss,” he said.

You returned the smile, less awkwardly, and patted his shoulder. For a split second, San saw something in you, maybe kindness, but that was all forgotten when you two started living together.

_____________________________________

“Yeah… fuck, don’t fucking stop, don't fucking—” your voice bounces on the walls, you are so close.

“Ah.. ah!” the deep voice behind you moans as he cums way too soon.

San closes his eyes across the hallway. Why do you have to be so fucking loud? To be honest, he wishes he could shut you up once and for all. Moving in with you was necessary, he understands that, part of the arranged marriage and your agreement. However, San never imagined how opinionated and bossy you could be. One thing was your role as the new mafia leader, another thing was you ordering him around the house like some unloved pet.

Tonight, nonetheless, San wouldn’t take that anymore, so he did something unexpected. He left his bedroom and went looking for you. Was he out of his mind? Probably, you specifically instructed to ‘stay the fuck away’ and since your marriage was fake, you could find carnal pleasure with anyone you wanted.

San walked out of his bedroom. His pajama pants hanging low, his shirt forgotten somewhere in his room. He still wore his reading glasses and his black hair was wet, and slicked back. Your bedroom door abruptly opens and an unfortunate man flies out of your room. He is in his underwear trying to flee the scene grabbing his clothes as your upset persona watches not too far from the door. San’s curious eyes find your figure, and my oh my, what on earth are you wearing?

If San didn’t know any better he would be jealous of the thin piece of clothing that gets to touch your soft skin. You have no shame as you stand there in front of your husband. The peach, sheer dress dances loosely on your body, however, it shows off your beautiful body. San can see your nipples hardening under such a provocative piece of clothing as his eyes scan even further south to find the core of your intimacy unclothed.

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask.

“N-no, I was just… taking a break from reading. I couldn't focus,” he crosses his arms across his chest and something in you wonders how you never paid any close attention to those broad shoulders and itty bitty tiny waist.

“Was I being too loud? Apologies.”

“Not at all, I believe you can be louder… with the right encouragement.”

The audacity. He can’t speak to you like this… he has never done something so daring. Your heart races and a familiar heat travels from your chest down to your legs.

“Go to your room, San,” you scold him and close the door.

San rolls his eyes. He has had enough of you bossing him around as if he was your puppy or servant. So on this night, Choi San decided something. He will make you see him for what he is, an important part of your alliance, a capable, fierce man, and your husband.

______________________________

The days pass and you haven’t seen much of San. You haven’t seen him at all. Is not a surprise not to see him or know of him for a day or two, however, it’s been 9 days since you had your little after-hours encounter. You sit in front of various members of the cartel and trusted members of the mafia your father once led. Theo, your father’s favourite and now your confidant, continues to sit to the right of the boss, you.

“We are losing territory, it’s like we don’t have enough people from our side…” one protests.

“The matter is getting resolved. I suspect there is someone infiltrated in one of our negotiations or maybe lines have been tapped–”

You are cut mid-sentence when the doors are almost torn from their hinges and your husband enters the room. He is agitated, pulling a beaten man by the collar of his crimson-stained shirt, the same crimson colour that decorates San’s knuckles and hands. The stranger is pushed and kicked to your feet, and you almost feel pity for his bruised face.

“Sorry to drop in unannounced, love,” San starts, leaving that last word resonating in your head. “This little rat here has something to tell us, don’t you?” San walks over to him and pulls him by the root of his hair making his eyes meet yours. “Look at my wife when you speak, scum, or do I need to break the rest of your fingers one by one?”

And now you see it, his left hand, disfigured, broken bones making his muscles swell under his skin.

“Speak,” you command.

“I– I know who’s been feeding information to Viggiano.”

As soon as you hear the name you stand from your chair and grab his face.

“You better start talking before you lose your tongue as well,” you look at the disheveled man, then back at San. His eyes have such an intense glare, you’ve never seen him like this. It makes the hairs on your back rise.

“Pl-please no, I–” as the man stutters he keeps looking past you, which makes you turn to see Theo standing right there. The kindness in his eyes was now replaced by threat and fear.

“No…” a small gasp leaves your lips.

“You are never going to be the right person to lead, everyone knows–” Theo starts.

Slap! You can’t believe the speed at which your body moved to hit your so-called uncle across the face. Two of your guards grab him by the arms, waiting for your command, but San is quicker. He bumps the disheveled man’s head with the table, knocking him unconscious. Like a predator to its prey, he walks towards Theo. You don’t see it coming but one punch from San and Theo is coughing blood.

“That’s enough, San. You can go now.”

San is in disbelief, but he lets out a deep chuckle that makes you and your company know he is indeed annoyed by your decision.

“I want his nose and ears cut off, for being a liar and an eavesdrop, send them to Viggiano,” you walk towards the door. “Sleeping beauty over there loses his tongue. I want them both dead by midnight… oh and let this be an example of what happens if you betray your boss,” you finally exit the room, listening to the ‘yes ma’ams’ behind you.

The night seems to be the longest one you’ve ever lived. This is not the first tough decision you make, but this is the first time someone close betrays you, and it hurts. It hurts bad, so you cry in the loneliness of your room. You curse. You throw things around and you scream. Everyone has been instructed not to bother you, except for one person.

“May I come in?” San’s voice is soft outside the door.

“Leave me alone!”

San enters your room regardless and nothing stops him from getting to you. He holds your wrists.

“You need to stop bossing me around, I know you are upset but I am not your puppy or your slave.”

“You disappeared for 9 days and came home with a big surprise. Great! But you mean nothing to me, Choi San, and I mean nothing to you! Just get out before I call the guards.”

“Nothing to you? Nothing to me!?” he is even more shocked than before and you see in his eyes that look he gave you when you got married but now it is enhanced. It is sympathy. It is agony. It is lust, pain, and love. Deep down you know he means something to you or you would have him dragged out of your room in this very minute.

You don’t get to answer when San’s lips are already on yours and you find yourself kissing this handsome man back. This handsome man is legally your husband, but you have never kissed before. His lips are hungry and wanting, making you thirst for him as your tongues collide and his needy hands cup your ass.

“See how lovely it can be when you don’t boss me around and you shut up.”

Fuck.

The wetness between your legs just grows and you have no words to answer back. His mouth is on your delicate neck, oh he needs to make a work of art here, your skin looks like it could bruise easily. San sucks on various points, his tongue lapping over the marks he leaves behind. Your moaning goes from soft to breathy and impatient. One of your hands reaches under your nightgown and San slaps it away.

“No, love, you don’t get to relieve yourself until I fucking say so. Now be a good pet and strip for me, would ya?”

You take off your clothes as fast as you can, pathetic. A week ago, San was just the most annoying housemate, a convenient inconvenience, but now you’re here naked in front of him. His eyes are dark scanning your body, planning how he is going to ruin you, and you are going to let him do as he pleases.

“On your knees.”

And you drop to your knees looking up at his adoring face with a wicked smile. He lowers his pants just enough for you to see his cock already leaking for you.

“Such a good pet, would you help me out?”

You continuously nod and pull his pants further down. His cock is beautiful, perfect, just like him. Slightly curved, just the right thickness, and a bit longer than average. You spit on it and start with your hand, jerking him off, up and down, up and down. Without interrupting the pace you lick his balls and earn the most sensual moan from San’s lips. So you put your mouth to work. You put him between your wet needy lips and push him in, sucking, tasting all of him. San’s breath is heavier when you start bopping your head up and down. He suddenly grabs your hair and takes control, fucking your face and watching you take it. To his eyes, you were already so beautiful, but this is something else.

“See how beautiful you look with your mouth shut, so obedient, now be a good wife and take this cock.”

You moan at his words, how can they make you so horny when you had no plan of sleeping with him. The vibrations in your throat send San spinning and he is too close to cuming, but not yet. He pulls out of your mouth and helps you up, and with a slap to your ass, he takes you to bed. He signals you to straddle him. You normally don’t like eye contact with your sexual partners but there is something about San that makes it different.

“Fuck yourself on my cock and I only want to hear how good it feels, okay?”

You sit on his cock slowly, letting yourself adjust to his length and girth. When you start to bounce on top of him, San has to use all of his willpower not to drill into you like some kind of wild animal, he can do that any other time if you let him. The way you are making him feel is ecstatic. Your tits moving up and down so close to his face he has to suck on them. The feeling of his tongue on your nipples makes you want to cry for pleasure. You let out a high-pitched moan.

“Words, little pet, I wanna hear them– fuck,” San throws his head back as your pace becomes quicker. He slaps your ass, once, twice.

“I love it, I fucking love it, San… fuck. I like it right there, so fucking perfect. I want you to fucking split me in half,” you just let words out, words derived from the ecstasy of having his cock buried deep inside you.

And that was the queue for San to let go and fuck you like he wanted. Like you wanted. He now fucks you faster than the pace you set earlier. His hands bruising your hips, the skin-to-skin contact adding even more passion, and his eyes… His eyes on yours making you feel his, making you feel safe, making you feel you can let go and–

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna cum… fuckfuckfuck!”

And San holds you while your body trembles and your high makes your brain explode into a thousand little particles of pure lust and sin. Fuck the way your heart races, you can hear it in your ears. He puts you on the bed and your reaction time doesn’t catch up with your brain when your legs are wrapped around his waist and he is entering you.

“San…” you whisper.

He stops. He is unsure if this is too much and he is willing to stop.

“San, San, San…” you keep saying his name like a plead, a prayer to the heavens as your hips move forward. You want more.

“Bet. No one. Ever. Fucked you. Like. This.” San says between thrusts so deep you can feel him in your cervix. “Look at you all fucked out, my obedient pet, taking my cock so well, wanting to cum again. Is that what you want?”

You nod desperately, anything for another intense orgasm with him. You only want this with him. His hands touching you, his moans on your ears, his voice commanding you to cum again and again.

This time San fucks you slower, you can feel every inch of him inside you as you clench around his erection encouraging him to keep going. He grabs your thighs to pull you even closer to him, angling your hips higher making you not say his name, but scream it.

“Yes, fuck, keep saying my name just like that.”

So you did as he entered you, ruining you for any other man who dared match him. You were his, the man who saved your life and fucks you into oblivion. Now you were close, so close to your climax and you needed to cum like oxygen itself.

“You don’t get to cum without me, hold it like the good pet that you are,” he says struggling to make a coherent sentence, he was very close too.

You try hard not to cum before he does, but looking at him sweaty, chasing his high, fucking you as no one has done before does something to you. Your hands squeeze your tits together while your eyes close, trying to last longer. San could have combusted with that sight alone.

“Cum– cum now… fuck!”

The tightness in your belly is now free as you both cum. It is so fucking loud that your head hurts. His seed spills deep inside you and if you felt full before, now it’s even better, your legs feel like gelatin. San gently places them down. You are thinking he will probably leave you to go back to his room but he does the unexpected.

His thumb is over your extremely sensitive clit and two of his slender fingers push his cum back inside you. You scream closing your legs. He smiles.

“You need to take it all, love,” that’s it… the dom session is over and he uses that word that makes your heart flutter.

“I can’t.”

San licks your clit, tasting the mix of both of your releases. His fingers thrust in slowly, slightly angling up until you squirm under his touch.

“Ah, right there? You like it there, love?”

“Mmmm-ugh yesfuck…ah–” you babble.

San continues his tortuous pace until he latches once again his mouth to your clit. You see stars, you don’t know how your body is taking this, it is so fucking good, he is so fucking good. The way he keeps you on edge and makes you want more and more. Fuck, you can’t even think and you feel your body about to orgasm but something is different.

“San, San… stop. I’m gonna–” and you squirt, drenching him in your juices.

“That’s a good girl.” He licks your entrance once last time before collapsing beside you, his arms open inviting you to rest on his broad and hard chest.

“You are not allowed to sleep in the other room anymore. From now on you sleep here, okay?”

“You’re ordering me around, but I will follow your command. After all, you are my wife,” he hugs you tightly.

__________________________________

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨ —this took me forever but I am in love with this san! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated and let me know if you would like to be part of the taglist.

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the-daydreaming-show · 9 months

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❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson

jason's version

The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.

NOTE:

People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.

Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.

You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.

You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.

Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband.

You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.

The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.

“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.

“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”

Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.

“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.

“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.

“Our butler” Bruce explained

“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.

“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.

“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.

“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.

Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.

During that week was the honeymoon phase.

The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.

And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.

“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.

You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.

“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.

It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time. Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news. The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband. You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.

“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him. If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.

“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore. It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.

The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing. And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.

“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.

“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.

At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick.

“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear.

“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.

“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand.

“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.

“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.

“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.

“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.

“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.

“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.

“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.

“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.

Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.

That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.

It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.

“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.

You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.

You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.

Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.

And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.

Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories?

It would be easier for him.

He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.

He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.

Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.

That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.

You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away.

You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.

“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.

“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.

“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.

“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.

The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.

So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.

“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.

The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.

“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.

You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.

“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.

In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.

“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon

“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.

“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.

You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.

Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.

“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.

“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.

“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.

“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.

“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.

“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.

“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.

Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.

“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.

Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.

“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.

“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.

“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.

“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.

“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.

“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.

It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.

That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.

“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.

You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.

“That, my boy, is a story for another day”

And that was it.

TAGLIST: If someone wants to be added or removed from this list, they can request it, is OPEN.

@some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack

#batmom #all for us #batfam x reader #dick grayson x batmom #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x scarletwitch #scarletwitch!reader #scarletwitch!batmom!reader

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schizoidcel · 6 months

Text

# JAX & GANGLE (SEPERATELY) x THEIR S/O IN THE REAL WORLD THAT ACCIDENTLY ENDED UP IN THE CIRCUS ☆

Ehmm so this is the req I accidently posted while I was like BARELY finished (awkward).

Anywho we don't care abt allat. Here it is 🙊 Srry for the wait anonsie !!

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

🤍 HEADCANONS !!

warnings :: Not proofread, and like. 0.1% angst on both of them

♪ JAX ..

Jax is one of the members that notices something is off

Your body language, the way you speak etc. is something that makes him think "Did I meet this person before entering this digital world or am I tweaking??"

He's curious on why he feels like this, so he hangs around you more

This includes you getting pranked more than the others, getting dragged with him to anywhere, and all that shit.

He usually sits next to you at the feast table aswell

But no matter what he does, he can't seem to figure out why you feel so familiar to him (And why your antics make him feel weird inside in a positive way but he pretends this isn't happening)

So the conclusion he just came up with was you being an old co worker, old friend, or anything like that in the real world

Once you two were walking around, trying to find some sort of item for the current in house adventure

Jax told you in that moment about how he felt like he met you before entering the digital circus, and if you ever knew someone who acted like him to confirm his theory

To his luck, you did!

What he didn't expect though was you saying he kind of acted like your S/O.

You kind of regretted saying that after in fear of things getting awkward between you two but Jax looked like he didn't give a single fuck

Infact, he looked like he was questioning everything right now while also not looking like he was questioning everything right now

Did this mean he had a S/O?? That is you???

Hes abit conflicted with that statement ofcourse, and thinks about it

It would make sense; The reason to why you make him feel weird would be answered too

Though even then I feel like he wouldn't be sure how to go on about this.

Give him some time, I'd say

♪ GANGLE ..

Gangle also notices something weird, like she met you once before

But she thinks it's just her overthinking

Though, she did find it abit odd aswell because both of you got along immediatly

Like something clicked between you two.

You also defended Gangle alot, which was kind of suprising to her

You were interested in what she was interested, and even if you werent, you didn't go out of your way to look at her weirdly or make fun of it

So ofcourse she'll get attached.

But she still tells herself she's probably overthinking about the whole "I met you before entering the digital circus" thing

It would make sense, but it seemed impossible for her

She basically thinks that someone like you (Boss and shit) wouldn't hangout with her (Girlfail and shit) if it was actually both of you in the real world, even though you two regularly hang out in the digital one (Ik she is one of those people that think like that I just KNOW)

I feel like Gangle is also one of the few people that forgot almost everything about the outside world, this includes ofcourse having a S/O

And therefore, like the others, she'll also get upset when you tell her while you two were having a drawing sesh that you got here while helping the police investigate your S/O's missing person case

Gangle planned on confessing to you before you told her this

She didn't feel nervous around you, so she felt like that even if you rejected her, you could still be friends

Ofcourse, now she won't confess anymore, since she knows you already have a partner, and she dosen't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, shape or form (Oh girl)

Let's hope that if you both get out, Gangle gets her faded memories back and you see that your partner was literally in the digital world with you the entire time

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

ׂૢ་༘࿐ Thank you for reading! ♡

This took longer than I wanted it to. I think imma quickly finish up some asks and then take a quick break lol

#jax x reader #gangle x reader #tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader

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oh-saints · 4 months

Note

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fics #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabbles #football fics #football fanfiction #footballer x you #footie fics

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her-favorite · 11 months

Text

TWO-FACED; J. VALESKA

JEROME VALESKA X F!DETECTIVE!READER

SERIES MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

WARNINGS: this imagine is set from s1 + s2 Jerome!, mentions of sex, makeout sesh, jerome being cocky !!

WORD COUNT: 6181!

SUMMARY: From the first time you met Jerome Valeska, you knew him as the son of Lila Valeska, the murder case you and Detective Gordon were working on. You had grown close, until you found out the truth. Now you know him as an Arkham escapee:

A MANIAX.

“I’m Jerome Valeska, her son.”

A soft voice was heard coming out of the silver trailer, coming closer to you. His ginger hair shined in the lights of the Circus, as he pulled over a comfortable jacket. He looked concerned as far as you could see, analyzing the way he talked and reacted to the things your partner was saying.

You had been invited to the Circus earlier that day by someone at the precinct, telling you it was a date. As time passed while you sat on the bleachers, they hadn’t shown up. You should’ve known; those cops were never true to their word.

You managed to make eye contact with Leslie Tompkins, the new Medical Examiner, smiling at her as she politely waved to you. It caught Detective Gordon’s attention, sending you a nod from the other side.

Now you stood next to him and Lee as you investigated the feud at the performance you all watched.

“Jerome, when did you last see her?” Jim asked, looking at the taller man. You both had been looking for Lila Valeska, the boy’s mother.

“Uh, this morning.” The ginger answered, his face conveying worry. “She was here when I left for the library.” He adds on, telling his side of the story to the detective. His eyes glance over at you, sending a kind half-smile towards you. You return, feeling your cheeks warm up.

At such an inappropriate situation, you couldn’t deny that the man in front if you was very handsome. His fire-colored hair suits him as much as his freckles matched his pale skin. His lips were the perfect shade of pink, begging to be kissed.

Talking snapped you out of your daze, looking over at the bigger man that had walked over. He spoke to Jerome in a low voice. “Your mother is fine. Gone on a spree no doubt. You know how she is.” His tone seemed to have some sort of undertone to it, making you shift in your spot.

“A spree? Without her hat or coat? Or her purse?” He rambled, wrapping his arms around himself to protect himself from the cold or to try and ease his worries, you couldn’t tell.

He looked around for a second before turning around and backing up towards a snake behind him. “Oh, look at Sheba.” He rested his hand on the cage, his left hand still clutching his jacket. “She’s distraught, she knows something’s wrong.” He looked back up as the snake hisses.

“The snake does seem to be agitated.” Jim chimes in, a fake smile taking over his lips. You look back and forth between your partner and the missing lady’s son. Jerome looks your way again, his eyes scanning over your body. You shivered and not because of the cold temperature.

“Sir, Ma’am,” The other man in makeup chuckles, walking over to you and Jim. “She’s what you call a ‘party girl.’” He leans in and whispers. As Jim listens to him, you look behind the broad red-coated shoulders to see the ginger look away irritably. His mother seems to be a tough subject to him, whether she was missing or not.

As Jim and the man converse, you back away and stalk towards the man standing in front of his trailer. “Hi,” You send a soft smile his way, walking next to him.

Jerome replies with the same smile, his dimples exposing themselves to you. His smile, whether it was real or to be polite, was breathtaking. It made your stomach feel fuzzy, having to clear your throat to gather yourself.

“So, what’s it like living at a Circus?” You try to start a conversation with the worried son. While your partner, Jim, always went straight forward into the investigation, you always tried to start off nice to see if they would give into you and tell you something.

The ginger-haired boy lets out a quiet laugh, looking down at his feet. His arms were still wrapped around his body, securing them tightly to himself.

“Uh, well,” He sighs, trying to rack his brain for the right words. “It’s different.” He starts off. He looks you in the eyes as he keeps speaking. “I’ve lived at the Circus my whole life, so I’ve gotten used to the weird behavior around here. We move a lot, hence the trailers.” He looks around, pointing to the ones in the area. You follow his finger, looking everywhere his eyes catch. “I guess, I don’t really have the right words to describe it.” He admits, looking back at you. His eyes tell you something you couldn’t understand yet.

“It’s definitely not a lifestyle I would choose if i had been asked beforehand. But,” He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like I have a choice.” He forced out a laugh, his features showing defeat.

Before you could question further into his confession, Jim interrupts. “How fast does an animal like that move?” He asks, looking towards Sheba in the cage.

“Uh.. fast walking pace. They rely on surprise mainly.” Jerome informs him as the snake hisses.

“Let her out.” Jim tells him. You and Lee look at him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry?” Jerome’s head cocks to the side, hoping the detective wasn’t being serious.

“Let her out.” He repeats, but with a smile. It was not convincing whatsoever. Behind him, Lee stood in shock at her boyfriend’s order.

“Jim, are you sure-“ Your input get cuts off by the same man you’re talking to.

“Y/N, trust me.” He gives you a look that made you sigh. You had originally stood up to him because of the look on Jerome’s face. He looked scared; maybe he didn’t want his mother’s snake out to get loose? Or maybe he was afraid?

Jerome’s shoulders were tense as he walked around the cage. He took the top off, watching the snake slowly navigate its way onto the ground. You all stand and wait as Sheba moves around, shifting in your spot.

“Do you work with Detective Gordon?” Jerome breaks the tense silence, looking over at you. You stood next to him as Jim and Lee were a few feet ahead of you.

“Yeah, he’s my partner at the GCPD.” You answer, trying to capture his expression. He nods in response, clenching his jaw every now and then.

“So, you guys aren’t together?” His bold question makes you freeze, taking a sharp breath in. You heard his faint chuckle from beside you, making your skin feel hot.

“No,” You reply, clearing your throat. “No, we’re not.” Jerome nods, a whisper of a smile on his face. “Besides, I look more to him as a father than anything.” You admit, starting to ramble.

“Yeah, I can see why.” Jerome adds.

You both walk forward slightly, carefully following Jim’s and Lee’s footsteps. As Sheba hisses and moves up boxes and on a truck, you stop dead in your tracks. Jim peels the tarp off the back of the truck and lying there is Lila Valeska. Blood seeped around her neck as her snake glides closer to her.

You hear a choked sob come from your right, watching Jerome fall to his knees. You gasp as you watch him cry, his face paler than before.

You crouch down beside him, not sure what to do. You place your hand on his shoulder and squeeze, hoping any form of contact would help him in any way. Before you register what happened, you feel two arms wrap around your torso and tears on your neck.

You tense at first, but hesitantly fold your arms around his body. He was vulnerable, too vulnerable to a stranger. You had a weird feeling in your stomach (not just the butterflies), that something bad was going to happen soon.

When Jerome came out of the interrogation room with Jim, you watched him walk over to an empty desk in the middle of the Precinct. You made your way over to your partner, immediately falling in line with his steps.

“What did you get out of him?” You asked, making your way with him over to his desk.

“Well, I asked about his mom, and he told me that she kinda slept around.” He explained with a grimace, looking back down at some folders. “But he did say that he loved her a lot; he seemed upset.” He adds on, still filing through the mounds of paperwork on his cluttered desk.

You nodded in response, arms crossed in front of your chest. Your eyes wandered the Police Department until they landed on the ginger in the corner. He still clutched his sweater, a nice red and white flannel under the soft fabric of the navy-blue cashmere.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Jim interrupts your thoughts, making you blink and look back at him. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, he puts up his hand to stop you. “I see the way you look at him.” He says with a serious face, but if you look hard enough, there’s a hint of a twinge at the corner of his lips. “Go on, kid. Maybe you’ll be able to get more out of him than just flirting.” He teases you, making you smack his arm. Go, he mouths, giving you a look.

You give into it and walk down the small stairs, making a beeline towards him.

You sit down next to him on a small bench, startling him out of his thoughts. He looks up at you from his position, straightening out his back instead of resting his arms on his legs.

“Hey,” His voice was small and short, fitting for someone in his position.

“Hi,” You try to send a soft smile his way, hoping to distract him, even for a little bit. Your eyes scanned his face, admiring his features. His freckles seemed more visible now in the Precinct lighting; his red hair parted to the side perfectly; his mouth looked swollen, maybe he was biting his lips. His waterline on his eyes were faded red from crying. He was still as beautiful with tearstained cheeks.

“I thought I’d come over here and maybe try to distract you or talk to you, instead of listening to the mumbles around this place.” You admit, forcing out a laugh. He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding his head with his eyes locked on the floor. “I know how much it sucks to hear every whisper in this place. I’ve only been working here for a couple of months, but for a police department, there’s a lot of drama.” You laugh, smiling as he joins in.

“Yeah,” He agrees. He looks up at you, finally making eye contact with you. His green eyes shined in the light; they looked expensive. “We only got here a couple of weeks ago, but I heard of all the crazy things that happen in Gotham in the newspapers.” He says, going along with the conversation.

You’re glad he continues it, instead of turning you down and ignoring you. You could never understand how someone could kill a mother to such a nice boy like Jerome. But as much as you liked conversing with the ginger, you couldn’t shake that feeling in your stomach.

As some time went by, you and Jerome got caught up in each other. His smile was so captivating, it made you want to try anything to see it again. You felt almost foolish to fall for some pitiful boy in a murder investigation, especially the victims son.

He seemed to break out of his shell to you, showing the sweet interior of the boy. You would get some weird looks from other cops when they saw you were laughing and smiling with someone who had fallen victim to a murdered mother.

“Was there anything any of her past lovers did that might’ve indicated of their intentions?” You asked him. As much as you love talking to him, you wanted to try and understand more to help him and his situation.

Most of the cops had gone home for the night, specifically Jim and Lee. You knew of their date tonight, so you’d rather not bother them. But you also knew that Jim would’ve wanted you to get at least something out of the red-haired boy.

“I mean.. not that i can think of.” He responded, fiddling with his fingers. Your eyes watched him fidget, that bad pit in your stomach resurfacing. You quickly tried to push it back down.

You nodded your head as a reply, different thoughts clouding your brain. You looked for the big clock on the wall, realizing how late it was. You looked out of the windows, just now noticing the black sky and the city lights on.

“Oh, Jerome, I’m so sorry for keeping you here! I lost track of time, I didn’t realize..” He cut of your rambling.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I had a really good time. Your distraction definitely worked.” He chuckled, the smile on his face making you feel weak.

Only certain desks were filled with people, some on the phone, some talking with others, and most asleep with their head resting on top of the table.

When you looked back at Jerome, you caught him staring at you, but instantly looking away once you saw him. You smile, watching his face start to heat up, looking down at his shoes.

“I can drop you off at your trailer if you’d like?” You offered, truly wanting to get out of this uniform and into bed for the night. He looked up at you, trying to decide what he wanted to do. “Or I can take you back to my place?” You offer. Before he had any sort of reaction, you kept talking. “I mean, I’m not too sure it would be the best idea to go back to the Circus tonight. I can give you a bed and some food.” You rambled on, not wanting the suggestion to come off as anything but friendly. “It’s all up to you.” You add, both of you already knowing this fact, but you wanted to state it verbally.

“That’d be really nice. Thank you, Y/N.” He answered, giving you a smile in return. You send one back, standing up from the bench.

“Let me just grab some things and I’ll be right back.” Jerome nods at your words, watching you walk away from him. You stood at your desk, grabbing your things and a folder or two.

“Alright, you ready?” You stood in front him. Jerome gets up and nods, following you out to your car.

You set your things down on the coffee table, walking over to grab a drink from the fridge.

“You can sit down, grab some food, whatever you need.” You inform Jerome as he stands by the door. He listens, making his way towards you in the kitchen. He grabs a cookie from the jar, taking a bite.

You laugh as you watch the crumbs fall on his sweater. “Sweet tooth?” You tease, screwing the cap back on your drink, leaning against the kitchen island. He chuckles, finishing off the cookie and dusting himself off.

“I saw it and I couldn’t help myself.” He admits, walking beside you and copying your stance. You both stood in comfortable silence, admiring each other without words.

“You’re really beautiful.” He whispers, voicing his thoughts. You couldn’t control the smile that took over your lips, looking down at the counter. “I’m serious.” You look up at him. “Even at such a bad time earlier, when I saw you at the Circus, I was immediately drawn to you.” He reveals, trying to capture your reaction.

“I felt sorry for feeling like this for the son of a case I’m working on, but,” Your words faded as you spoke, not finding any more on your mind.

You’re caught off guard when he leans forward and pressed his lips against yours. You both freeze when he pulls away, looking between his eyes and lips.

Your arms go around his neck as his go around your waist, pulling you both against each other. This was the first time you kissed him, but it didn’t feel like it. It felt like you’ve known each other forever with just one kiss.

His fingers dig into your hips, pushing you against his body. His tongue teases your bottom lip, waiting for you to answer. Your fingers pull on his hair, his groan being lost into the mesh of lips. His tongue pushes against yours as he pulls you closer-

RING! RING!

You both break apart fast, your chests heaving with each breath. You both reach for your phones, quickly taking the call instead of talking.

“Hi, Y/N, this is Lee! I was hoping to get you to the GCPD as soon as possible as some evidence for the Valeska case has been found.” She explains. You take a fast glance at the ginger on the other side of the room, making eye contact. “Jim’s currently on the phone with Jerome, so he should be here soon as well.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be right there.” You reply, hanging up the phone and closing it. It’s quiet for a minute before you hear Jerome move.

“Guess we’re heading to the GCPD.” He seemed irritated, his demeanor completely different. You follow him outside and to your car as you head over to your work.

You walked through the entrance, scanning the large room for the two that called you. Jerome followed behind you, watching your line of sight, looking for the detective that called him at such a late hour.

“Alvarez!” You walk down the stairs, catching the man’s attention. He turns around, waiting for you to keep talking. “Where’s Jim and Lee?” You ask, standing in front of him. His eyes get caught on the man behind you, before pointing to the interrogation room.

“They’re in there.” He replies, moving away to go to his desk.

You and Jerome make your way down the hall, standing outside of the door. A policeman guarded it, staring straight forward.

You look back at Jerome. “Why don’t you stay here for now, if that’s okay?” You suggest. He nods, sitting down on the bench as he waits.

You walk past the cop, opening the door and shutting it behind you. “What did you get, Gordon?” You ask, walking further into the room. You saw an older man sitting across from him with a dark red hat and a black suit with a matching red tie. You saw him from a distance earlier that day when he was talking to Jim and Lee, but you didn't know who he was. Jim told you he was blind and that he says he can speak to the dead. Jim seemed less than thrilled about that.

"Ms. Y/L/N." The old man calls out, making you stop walking. You stood beside Jim, sending a confused look to your partner.

“We solved the message Lila sent you. It sent us to Arkham Bridge Park.” Jim reveals, walking over to the older man. Mr. Cicero fiddles with the cane in his hand.

As Jim continues to tell him about Mr. Cicero supposedly protecting someone, you hang on every word he says. As the bad feeling in your stomach grows bigger, Jim gives a look to the officer by the door.

When it opens again, the boy waiting outside came in. As soon as he made eye contact with you, your eyed widened. You knew what Jim was thinking. How could he be serious about this?

“Jerome, you know Mr. Cicero from the Circus.” Jim sits down in his chair. You stood next to him, frozen in place.

“Yes, sir. Hello, Mr. Cicero.” Jerome looks to his left, making your nerves rise. Mr. Cicero greets him back as Jim analyzes them both.

You and Jim both worked differently, but it always worked right. It took a bit of time to get used to, but you both fell into a pattern together. But right now, you’re not sure if you’re even able to open your mouth to breath.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He looks at Jerome. The ginger thinks before asking, “Did you find out who killed my mother?”

“You killed your mother, Jerome.” Jim answers without hesitation.

Your body tenses as that feeling in your gut freezes. Your body felt heavy as you stood still, your breathing slowly picking up. Jim had a strong intuition and evidence; there’s no way he was wrong.

“Me?” Jerome’s voice was a whisper, leaning back in his chair.

“You killed her up on that hill and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer.” Jim explained further. Every word that came out of your partner’s mouth made you feel sick. “He told you to scratch the satanist symbol on the hatchet and throw it off the bridge.” Jerome looked between Mr. Cicero and Jim in disbelief.

“Sir, that’s absurd and.. offensive.” His voice cracked, making your stomach turn.

“But it’s the truth.” Jim states, staring at him. “What I don’t know is why this man risked so much to help you.” He looked over at the man sitting next to the red-haired boy. “I think he’s your father.”

Jerome’s shoulders fell, pausing before letting out a scoff. He looks between the two men again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says to Jim. “My father was a sea captain.” Jim looked over at you and Lee, making your jaw clench. You were a great detective, but a case like this wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Am I wrong, Mr. Cicero?” Jim looks over at the older man.

“Yes.” He replies with a monotone voice.

“He was a sea captain, his name was Sven Carlson. He died at sea.” Jerome explained further with urgency.

“What was the name of his ship?” Jim asked.

Jerome froze, before replying, “He worked on a lot of different ships.”

Jim shook his head, “The one he went down in.”

Jerome stopped. His shoulders fell as his gaze moved down towards the table. “She never said.” He whispered, looking back up at the detective. He looked over at you, giving you a pleading look.

“We can take a blood test to see if I’m right. Takes only half an hour to get a blood proof result. Isn’t that right, Doctor Tompkins?” He looks over at Lee, watching her respond. “Save yourself a needle.” He adds.

“I do hate needles.” Mr. Cicero replies. Jerome looks over at him, with furrowed brows. “I’m sorry, Jerome.”

“What’re you talking about?” Jerome’s voice was gravely, as if he was on the verge of tears. Your stomach started to hurt, watching all of this unfold. Was he faking?

“I am your father.” The old man reveals.

“No, you’re not. Why would you say that?” Jerome’s tone makes your heart clench. Your jaw tightens as every second goes by, silence being the loudest sound in the room. You thought maybe they could hear your heart beating.

“You must’ve suspected the truth.”

“No, you’re not my father. My mother would never…”

“Your mother was a cruel woman, she was often unkind to me. But she did once love me.” Mr. Cicero interrupts him, his deep voice making the room tense. “And she loved you very much, that’s why she gave you a better father.” He felt around for Jerome’s arm, squeezing his wrist before going back to hold his cane.

Jerome broke out into sobs, his face leaning down towards the table. A lump formed in your throat watching him breakdown. Just a half hour ago, you and Jerome were talking in your apartment. Everything felt right before, it was comfortable. Now you were in an interrogation room with the boy crying and his father admitting to every accusation.

You heard every hiccup that left the boy’s throat, chills enveloping your body. You didn’t know what to do. Should you talk to him? Reach out? Comfort him? Or should you just wait?

His sobs turned to laughing as just seconds went by. Your body stood in shock as he looked up, a cheshire grin taking over his red lips. A single tear fell down his right cheek, looking almost like a painting. You wonder what that masterpiece would be called.

“My mother was a coldhearted whore who never loved anyone. And she would never touch a pathetic old creep like you.” Jerome’s voice was deeper than before, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Was this the actual Jerome?

You watched his eyes as he said each word. When you had met Jerome earlier, you saw something in them from the beginning. You didn’t understand it before, but you did now.

“Did you think I was kind to you because I’m such a good man? If I wasn’t your father, would I have helped you as I had after what you did?” Mr. Cicero retaliated. Jerome glared at him as he spoke.

“My father… hm! Well, I’ll be damned.” He turned towards you and Jim again. “Oh, that’s very funny.” He says, starting to laugh hysterically.

None of the murders or criminals you’ve dealt with so far have ever scared you like this. It wasn’t just the murder of his mother. He played mind games with you, manipulated you into thinking he was a good person. Are all the things he said in your kitchen a lie? Would you be upset if they were?

Jerome mimicked a drum and cymbal sound, doing the gestures with his hands. “Looks like that bitch got me with a zinger in the end.” He glared ahead at Jim, setting his hands down on the table.

“Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?” Jim asked.

“Oh, you know how mothers are…” He waved his fingers, while looking off into the distance. “She just.. kept.. pushing.” He looked back at the detective. “And I’m like, okay mom, be a whore. Be a drunken whore even. But don’t be a nagging drunken whore… ya know?” He smiles. “Don’t come yelling at me to do the dishes if you’ve been banging a clown in the next room!” His hand slammed down on the metal table, making you flinch. “.. ya know?” He starts laughing again, each time getting louder and louder. He was in hysterics, not seeming to stop any time soon.

“Can I talk to him?” You ask, staring straightforward at Jerome. His laughter dies down, but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Y/N, I’m not sure-“

“Jim, I’m going to talk to Jerome.” You found your voice from your dry throat. You stared your partner down until he sighed. He nodded at Lee, resting a hand on her back as she leaves. Jim takes Mr. Cicero out to the Precinct with the other officer at the door. Once the door shuts, you take Jim’s chair and sit across from Jerome.

“Well, Y/N,” His voice was cocky, that wide smile never moving. “I didn’t-“

“Who are you?”

“Huh?” Jerome looks taken back. He blinks, that devilish smile slowly fading. “What are ya talking about, doll?” He sits back, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“Who are you.” You lean forward, your face serious. You watch his jaw clench, his eyes switching between watching your left or right.

He leans forward, just inches away from your face. “I’m the son of a whore of a mother.” He spits out, each syllable filled with malice. “The poor boy in the Circus that gets beat up by their slut of a mom. I have suffered my whole life under the wing of that useless bitch!” He yells, his eyes screaming with anger. You don’t move from your spot, watching the way he reacts. “I thought it was about time she died anyway. Whether it was gonna be from one of her little toys or me.. guess it didn’t really matter in the end, huh?” A laugh surfaced from his throat, goosebumps forming on your cold skin.

It was silent for a minute or two, trying to find your words. “Was none of what you said real?” You question, taking him off guard again. He backed up an inch and cocked his head.

“What? The things I said to Gordon about loving my mother? Then, no, obviously not.” He states.

“No,” You stare at him, waiting for.. something. You didn’t really know what, you just wanted some type of answer.

“Ohh,” His eyes widened for a second, that nefarious smile forming again. “You’re talking about our little kitchen sesh.” He realizes, grinning from ear to ear. You never take your eyes off of him, wanting an explanation of anything you can get out of him. “That was hot, wasn’t it?”

“Jerome.” You cut him off. Your face felt hot, you didn’t know if you were blushing or embarrassed. Was anyone watching the cameras? Can they hear Jerome?

“Okay, relax, doll.” He smiles, getting up from his laidback position. His face gets closer to yours again, feeling his breath on your lips. “What would you do if I said yes?” His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips.

Your breath caught in your throat, your throat starting to feel dry again. No words came to your mind, all of it enveloped with fog. Jerome captured you in a way you couldn’t explain. His strong eye contact never wavered, seeming to tell you more than his words ever could.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased, laughing. Your jaw clenches, trying to find the right words to use. “Alright, babe, I’ll tell ya.” He sits back in his chair, arms still folded in front of him on the table. “Everything I said was in fact true, dolly.” He says, his eyes never leaving yours. He has a faint smile on his lips, just the corners barely curved upright. “I mean, I can explain to you what we were gonna do before those two idiots called.” He keeps talking before you could say anything. “Well, first, I was gonna tell you to strip-“

“Jerome.” You stop him, taking a glance at the security camera in the top corner of the room. His laughing starts again, filling the silence of the small room. He follows your line of sight and waves at the camera, sending a chilling smile to the people that were watching. Most likely Jim, maybe Lee.

“Is there anything else you have to say before you’re sent to Arkham?” You ask, trying to come off to talk about his mom, but you both knew what you really meant.

“Hmm…” Jerome puts his finger on his chin and looks up, pretending to ponder. “No… no, I don’t think so.” He finally answers, smiling a genuine smile to you. Hopefully, for the last time, he causes a chill down your back.

As two officers rush in to grab him, Jerome laughs hysterically. Each one grabs one of his arms, dragging him out.

“I’ll see you again, Y/N! I’ll be back for you, doll!”

His yells echo through the long hallway, stopping you from moving. His words repeat in your mind over and over again, clouding your brain. You weren’t sure of what Jerome was capable of, and you’re not sure you want to find out.

Why would you let yourself fall for someone like him?

- SEASON 2 -

The Maniax. That’s what they called themselves.

Already, they’ve caused chaos. Throwing people off buildings and hijacking a school bus. People of Gotham were terrified, paranoid to step foot past their front door.

Jim had shown you and the rest of the GCPD of who you were trying to catch earlier that day. He walked up to the projector, clicking a button to turn it on.

“Jerome Valeska, 19, matricide.”

You froze. He broke out? What does that mean for you?

“I’ll see you again, Y/N! I’ll be back for you, doll!”

His last words to you rang like a bell in your mind. Goosebumps filled your skin, your body tensing up immensely. You felt like your body was cemented to the floor, almost not wanting to move.

Was this his plan all along?

“Hey, Y/L/N?” Jim waved a hand in front of your face. Your blinked, noticing how all the cops where at their desks now or running around the precinct. “Are you okay?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

It takes a second for you to answer. “Yeah,” You pause, trying to clear your mind. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You reply, forcing a smile.

Jim quickly sees through it, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m not gonna let him get to you, okay? If it comes to it, I’ll let you stay at my place if it makes you feel safe.” He says.

Relief filled your body at his words, but you knew Jerome was going to get to you one way or another. “Thank you, Jim. I’ll let you know.” You send him a smile before waking away to your desk.

Was he really going to find you?

Hours passed from then as you sat at your desk, looking over different files of the Maniax. You wondered how only a group of people managed to break out, but not the others. Every time you flipped a new page or read a different paragraph, all you see is Jerome.

His file sat next to it, reading, in big capital letters: JEROME VALESKA. It distracted you any time you let your mind wander or your eyes peer over to it. Even if you worked on it with Jim, Jerome was your case. You’ll never forget what happened in your kitchen that night of the investigation. Every time you step foot there, you get hit with a wave of the feelings you felt in that moment. It made your heart clench every time.

The little things about him still consumed you. His scent still lingered in the back of your head: a faint apple cinnamon smell. The genuine smile he had on his face when you two talked in your house.

Jerome Valeska has clouded your mind since that day. Ever since you couldn’t shake him from your mind; his captivating eyes, his bright hair, the way his lips felt. The last one was the hardest to get rid of. Every now and then you’d wake up in a cold sweat, guilty from dreaming of kissing the murderer you once held.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang in the office, making you jump out of your seat. Smoke engulfed the precinct, making you cough. Gunshots rang through the air, making you flinch as you guarded your face. You had to think fast as you started to make a run for a closed off room somewhere in the back of the precinct.

You ran down an empty hallway, just a few feet away from an unlabeled door. You made a run for it, jiggling the rusty doorknob. It creaks as you open it, hoping for your life that no one heard. You hadn’t seen who the people that hijacked the GCPD were, too busy on watching all of the dead cops fall on the cold floor. You knew, even as a snap decision, the only good idea was to run. The only figures you saw standing were the ones that were firing.

You close the door behind you, trying your best to be as quiet as possible so the creak wouldn’t echo down the hallway. Your body backed up as you watch all kinds of lights flash outside of the distorted window. Your heartbeat was rapid, feeling as if it was going to rip out of your chest. Your body freezes as it backs up against something.

“Hey, doll.”

Your blood runs cold when you hear his voice. It was like you were back in that interrogation room, questioning why he had done what he did. You felt, at that moment, like your heart truly did tear through your skin. You felt cemented to your spot, too terrified to move incase he’ll do something drastic.

A cold hand wraps around you, pressing his palm against your mouth. You knew better than to scream, a gut feeling that no one would’ve heard you anyway.. if anyone had even survived.

“I told you I’d be back for ya, doll!” His manic laugh rings through the silent room, raising goosebumps on your cold skin.

This wasn’t going to be good..

#jerome valeska #jerome valeska x you #jerome x reader #cameron monaghan x reader #cameron monaghan #jeremiah valeska x you #jeremiah valeska x reader #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah valeska #gotham #gotham jerome #jerome valeska smut #jerome valeska x reader

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kasagia · 4 months

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❄️️Warm my heart pt. 8 (end)❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: Winter Fiesta at Christmas? Great idea. After all, there is no better opportunity to end the drama that has been going on between you and the general than at a huge ball thrown by Lantsov. Word Count: 3,6k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 7 ~•♤♤♤•~

You liked Christmas, but the winter fete that preceded it was a terrible event.

Especially since this year you weren't leaving to visit your brother right away, and in the next few hours you were going to find out whether the man you gave your heart to was really an immortal, power-hungry monster who would stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

In hindsight, you would probably prefer to endure the snark and rudeness of your grandparents and your siblings.

You took a shaky breath as you walked out of the Little Palace. At the exit, you met Fedyor and Ivan, who reconciled after Ivan promised to meet his family. The bastard knew it would be impossible this year, so he agreed, but as long as Fedyor is happy about it, then you are too.

Fedor's worse half separates from you as they reach the great hall of the king's palace.

You and Fedyor blend in with the crowd of other Grisha. You manage to grab a glass of champagne and sip it while watching the people around you. You unconsciously look at Alina, which Fedyor immediately notices.

"Are you waiting for the big show?" he asks, referring to the little show of power Alina and Aleksander were about to do.

Luckily, you missed out on being a circus monkey at the party this year (you suspect Aleksander didn't want to anger you more), so all you had to do was try to get through the last few hours as pain-free as possible.

"I can't wait." you say sarcastically, grabbing something sweet from the snack table. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your friend smirking. "What is it? What did you do?"

"I? Nothing at all," he lies, leaning on the table and grabbing something to eat.

"I know you too well for you to lie to me. I've seen this conspiratorial smile more than once. What's going on?" you ask, looking at him carefully and expectantly.

Before you can push him further to speak, Genya joins you, saving the man from your further investigation. She shows you some Inferni tricks. When you look away, they both exchange knowing glances, and Fedyor silently thanks her for saving him.

"You look pretty." Genya comments, turning to you as the three of you eat the sweets. Take advantage of the opportunity while you can. In the Little Palace, you rarely ate anything other than those nasty herrings. "I like your earrings. Moonstone, right?"

"David made them for me. Initially, they were supposed to be… something else, but he had enough material to make me earrings as well."

"Yes, he is very talented. And what was most of it he spent on making?" she asks curiously as you three walk to a more distant part of the room where there are much fewer people.

"A ring."

"A ring? I don't see any on your finger."

"It wasn't supposed to be for me. Christmas gift." you explain vaguely.

The ring was supposed to be for Aleksander... no proposal or anything else. He recently lost his ring, so you asked David to make him a new one, practically the same as his old one but with a piece of moonstone inside.

"Oh, I see. You know, David told me that the moonstone has… a very special meaning," she says teasingly.

"Really? And how often do the two of you talk like that?" you ask just as teasingly, and she blushes too.

You both laugh, and only now do you notice that Fedyor has also disappeared somewhere, leaving you and Genya alone.

"May I ask who that special gift is?"

"I... I haven't decided yet." you tell her what is actually true.

This evening was to decide everything. That evening, Aleksander was to put his plan into action. If he really decided to use Alina in his plans... you had a backup plan ready. Which you hoped you wouldn't have to use.

You notice Aleksander as soon as he enters the room.

And you are speechless at the sight of him.

At the sight of his black kefta embroidered with red threads.

He gives you a short, meaningful look and goes to greet the royal family. You turn immediately towards Genya with a questioning look, and she simply shrugs.

"He wanted a matching kefta." she explains, but she frowns at your growing excitement. "But I want you to be careful. He's… a powerful man. Even if you tamed him a little."

You are going to deny her words, defend him, and say that he is not as bad as everyone makes him out to be, but you are speechless for the second time when soon after Alina enters the room in a black kefta with gold embroidery.

You shake your head, laughing bitterly.

"Apparently not." you say, staring at Alin with envy. The bitter bile of jealousy and hurt wells up inside you as you try to focus on your anger rather than the tears welling up in your eyes.

Genya stares at her as surprised as you, searching for someone in the crowd.

"I don't understand… after all…"

"Don't worry, I understand." you say firmly and coldly, making the redhead shiver. You ignore her, staring at Alina as she approaches Aleksander from behind, surprising him when she smiles sweetly at him. "And I'm not going to be part of this fucking threesome."

You leave Genya alone before she can say anything. You don't stay for the Alina and General show. You just walk out, pushing your way through the crowd and finding the back exit where the fewest guards are patrolling. All you wanted was to disappear into the shadows.

Aleksander looked for you frantically after Alina approached him. But he doesn't see you anywhere. You left Genya alone, and he wasn't able to spot you in the crowd.

He did his little show with the Sun Summoner and left her with her friends. He moved quickly towards the exit, catching Genya's gaze. The woman immediately followed him. They both left the room and went into the corridor, where Fedyor was already waiting for them.

"What happened there?" he asks them furiously. "Who gave her that damn kefta? That wasn't the plan."

"Um… David saw Baghra leaving the Grand Palace."

Aleksander frowns in anger at Fedyor's words. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths to calm himself down. His mother always had to destroy everything that was good. He should've predicted it.

"And where is she now?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Baghra?" Fedyor asks hesitantly as Genya gently moves towards him.

"Y/N!!" they both tremble when they hear him shouting. Shadows circle him, giving him an even more ominous look. He sighs when he sees the fear in their eyes, and with a wave of his hand, everything returns to normal. “I meant Y/N.” he says more calmly, slightly embarrassed by his sudden outburst.

"We do not know. David followed her, but she vanished from his sight."

"Vanished?" Fedyor nods. Aleksander immediately thinks of his mother. Only she and he knew the exact location of the hidden corridors in the Grand and Little Palace. She had to take you. Convince you finally that he is a monster. "I want our men at every exit gate around the castle, at every exit and entrance, and at the sewers that lead from here. As soon as you see her, you are to capture her and alert the rest."

"Baghra or Y/N?"

"Both!" he says angrily, walking towards the exit of the palace. "And you two are to guard the Sun Summoner. I don't want her to disappear too."

He doesn't go far before Ivan catches up with him with the news that there was an attack on Alina. He freezes in his steps. It cannot be split.

He can either look for you or protect the Sun Summoner.

And the choice is simple for him.

You kept your hand pressed tightly to your mouth to keep from making any sound as you walked down the hall of the Grand Palace. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, somehow making their way through your hand and into your mouth so you could taste the saltiness of your defeat.

He chose Alina. Actually, both of you, but what difference did it make? You made it clear to him that you wouldn't be just another pushover in his life, just another face among many others. You wanted everything or nothing. Nothing half-hearted, no half-truths, and no being THE OTHER WOMEN.

As you walk and cry, you don't notice something suddenly moving in the shadows, and listening to the heartbeat of someone who might be hiding in a secret passageway in the hall is the last thing on your mind right now.

That's how someone grabs you tightly by the arm in an aching hug and drags you along with them to the hidden exit of the castle. You struggle and freeze, both shocked and irritated, as you see who caught you.

"Baghra? What the hell do you want?" you ask irritably, not wanting her to see you like this. You pull your hand from her grip and wipe the remaining tears from your face.

"I'm helping you, child. Do you think Aleksander won't send people after you who will lead you back to him like some pet?"

"I don't need your help." you growl, backing away from her in anger.

"You think so? So c'mon. Go, run away by yourself. I am sure he will find you. Maybe he will even put a collar on you too. You, Alina and Aleksander will have so much fun together."

You stand still, listening to her words like poison. You shake your head and turn to face her, watching her smirk with spite.

"You know what? I'm not surprised that he... that he thinks what he's doing is right. If he told me even a little bit of the truth about himself, then I know how you treated him. How you shaped him. So don't be surprised that your son became what he became when all you showed him was how to take advantage of other people and how to not care about anyone but his own goals and needs. Maybe if you hadn't run away from all those who are supposedly not worthy of your attention and hadn't taught him the same things, he would have turned out completely differently. Maybe if you saw him as something more than a creator of the fold, a Black Heretic, everything would be different. And don't worry. I can handle everything perfectly on my own."

You leave her in the secret corridor and don't look back as you return to the main halls of the Grand Palace.

Aleksander was furious. No one saw you, no one could find you. He ran out of the Little Palace and headed straight for the stables. You had to sneak out somehow. He hoped that maybe he would ride his horse around the area and find you.

He doesn't wait for the horseboy. He approaches his horse and saddles it quickly and expertly. He has his foot in the stirrup when he hears movement near the entrance.

"Are you going somewhere?" you ask, leaning against the entrance with your arms crossed.

He freezes, blinking a few times, making sure you're not some sort of vision, ghost, or other creature tormenting him. When he realises you're standing there in your body, he jumps off his horse and runs towards you. He hugs you to his chest and buries his nose in your hair. He lets out a shaky breath, inhaling your scent.

"Saints, where have you been?" he asks, not letting you move away from him. He needs to feel you close.

"On the way. Far from here. I turned back when I heard that there was an attack on Alina. Did anything happen to anyone?" you ask worriedly, moving away from him. He doesn't let you go far, just enough to look at him.

"I… I don't know." he admits, embarrassed, and you frown, looking at him in disbelief.

"How don't you know?"

"I left. I left Ivan, Fedyor, and Zoya in charge. I… I had to find you."

His confession makes your heart melt, and you bite your lips, holding back the sudden urge to kiss him. Your brain gets back on track as you start to think again about how your friends and other Grisha handle another attack on Sun Summoner.

"We have to come back to them." you tell him as you somehow manage to get out of his grasp and turn towards the exit.

"Wait... please." he says this and quickly overtakes you, blocking your only escape route. You stare into his dark eyes for a moment before shifting your gaze to his horse, which is watching the two of you closely. He doesn't let you take your eyes off him for long. He gently grabs your chin and forces you to meet his pleading gaze. "Talk to me."

"About what? We have nothing to talk about." you say, glaring at him defiantly.

Common sense screams at you to run away from him. He wasn't just the red flag; he was the whole red carpet. But how can you leave him when those dark eyes look at you so pleadingly, when he clings to you like to the anchor, like to the only thing that holds him sane?

"If that were true, you'd be on your way, far away. I know you could get through all those people I put on guard, even me. If we didn't have anything to talk about, I… I wouldn't be looking for you like a mad man, leaving the Little Palace in such a situation without my supervision. You know that."

"Why are you wearing a kefta with red embroidery? Why did Alina replace her blue one with a black one? You can't have a cake and eat it at the same time, Aleksander. I want... I want to be the only one for you... as you are the only one for me, even though this shouldn't happen. Even though I know what you did, but... I can't help seeing you as... as someone more than my general or the Darkling. I... please, just don't prove me I am that naive to love you."

You lift your head to look at him just as he leans down to capture your lips with his.

You stand there in shock for a moment, but you respond to his kiss with equal parts fervour, passion, and need. He wraps one hand around your waist, and the other gently cups your cheek, tilting your head to a different side to give him better access to your mouth. You moan into the kiss, grabbing the lapels of his kefta and pulling him even closer to you.

The thought occurs to you that he looks good in red.

His cold fingertips tease the hot skin of your neck as he begins to undo the buttons on your kefta. A shiver runs through you as you break away from him, realising that you two still have a few more things to explain before you can finally let yourself lose yourself in him.

"Wait, wait." he listens to you and immediately pulls away from you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He licks his lips and is about to ask you a question when you interrupt him. "Nothing happened. You didn't do anything wrong; I just need to know. What about Alina? And the fold?"

"She means nothing to me. She is nothing compared to you. She is just a means to an end, and I… might have changed my plans a little bit."

"What do you mean?" you ask, crossing your arms. He sighs and looks at you for a long time before answering.

"I'm not known for making noble decisions. But know that everything I do—everything I wanted to do—I did for Grisha's sake. And I admit... these were not good for everyone. I wanted to seduce Alina. Make her trust me, make her rely only on me, and take advantage of her. But then I promoted you. I needed help with the papers—someone who wouldn't question my authority and for whom Grisha's well-being was as important as mine. And you ruined all my plans after the first day when you argued with me about sending our people through the fold. I... for the first time in hundreds of years, I had someone who wasn't afraid to say what she thought. Someone who respected my opinion even if she didn't agree with it. I felt that… that I didn't have to be this monster around you, that I didn't have to keep up my image. That I don't have to be a Darkling for you to respect me. And I know I'm far from being a good man, but with you... with you, I remember what I was like before all this happened, before this whole thing with the fold. What I was fighting for. What I believed in. I thought that that man died a long time ago, but with you, I am... I can be just my old self. The one I really missed. The only one of many of my... well, version of myself that I didn't play or create for survival purposes. I live with you. Not just keep fighting to survive for the better times. So please believe me that when I say I love you, I say it from the deepest truth, from the remnants of my heart that I still have after the centuries I have lived. The remnants that you picked up and brought back to life, my little almighty heartrender. You don't have to want me back. I don't suspect you will… just please don't leave. Don't leave me again alone in my darkness."

And what can you say? What can you do other than go up to him and kiss him like you've never kissed anyone else? You don't know who is more surprised—you, him, or that damned horse neighing in the background, ruining your perfect moment. But you don't care. You kiss your shadow summoner and try to convince him that, from now on, he will never be alone. At least as long as you breathe.

"I have something for you," you say later that night as you lie in his arms in his bed.

After your little make-out session, you returned to the Little Palace and took care of everything. Baghra was gone, Alina was safe (with Mal returning after Aleksander had abandoned his search for the deer), and everyone in the palace had somehow survived another attack.

"I don't need anything except for you to stop squirming so much," he murmurs into your neck, tightening his grip on you as you try to reach for your kefta, which is discarded on the floor next to the bed.

"Aleksander!” you squeal, laughing when he touches the sensitive spot on your waist, making you tickle. "Don't you dare." you say, seeing his malicious look. "I'm serious. Tickle me, and I'll fly out the door, not caring who sees me naked."

"I'll remember that." he huffs, offended, and buries his face in your neck. His beard tickles your skin, and even more tickles your sensitive skin, where he left a few hickeys on it.

You somehow manage to reach into your kefta and take out a canvas pouch. You place it on Alexander's chest, smiling excitedly as he pulls away from you gently and takes the item, examining it in his hands.

"What is it?"

"Your Christmas' gift. Open it."

He doesn't question your order. He pulls you towards him so that you're sitting between his legs and leaning against his chest. He hugs you, holding you close to him and resting his chin on your head as he opens his pouch and selects a ring. You feel him hold his breath, and his heart speeds up.

"Don't worry; I'm not proposing to you. I'm not crazy enough to do it so quickly. Besides, I'm quite a traditionalist when it comes to this. I'll wait for my ring. I just know you lost yours somewhere and… I thought it would be a nice gift."

"Is this a moonstone?" you nod at his question.

"Do you like it?"

He doesn't answer. He places a kiss on your head and hands you the ring. He sticks out his left hand, obviously wanting you to put it on his finger.

You do it with trembling hands. It looks good on his finger. And the possessive thought crosses your mind that he is truly yours now.

"I have nothing for you, milaya. You'll have to wait before I pick up your gift from David and Genya." you turn around in his arms with a smile.

"I already have my gift. You let me warm your heart. That's all I wanted." he gives you that charming smile and kisses you. You smile against his lips, feeling his arms around you again as he pins you to the mattress to shower you with kisses again, hickeys and all his attention, whispering against your skin with every kiss how much he loves you and needs you.

And in the morning, you find a beautiful black kefta with red embroidery and a ring that matches the one you gave him. And as you hear his heartbeat against yours, you decide it's the best Christmas you've ever had.

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stinkysam · 5 months

Text

Roronoa Zoro - Different.

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “It could be with trust. Like it could start of angsty, but finishes with some fluff. For the character it could be with either Luffy or Zoro. I can't decide haha.” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

To you, there was only one kind of pirate. The bad kind. The kind that ruins people's lives by pillaging and destroying towns. Pirates are destructive and marines are barely better. Assholes who use their authority to do anything they want without any repercussions.

So for you, the only way was being a pirate hunter. To do the job marines (barely) did without being affiliated to them.

Along the way you met another pirate hunter, Roronoa Zoro. Although he mainly did it for the money, you both had the same point of view and quickly became friends. Even working together on a few occasions.

Until you heard he had joined a pirate to become one himself. Betrayed, you went after him for explanations.

You found him in the restaurant Baratie, with what seemed like the rest of his crew. He quickly spotted you, after all, you weren't hiding and nodded hi to you.

You didn't reply, continuing staring and rapidly he knew what this was about. He sighed and said something to his table before standing up and going to yours.

“I don't sit with pirates.” You say, looking at him as he was about to take the chair. He still sat down, after a second of not moving and began to talk.

“I know what you think. But-”

“They're different ?” You raised an eyebrow, already expecting the boring excuses.

He said nothing for a moment.

“Listen, I don't owe you any explanation. Believe what you want but Luffy is not like the pirates you know.”

“I don't believe you.”

“Then don't.” He said and stood up, leaving to go back to his table.

You didn't try to talk to him more, only seeing him again when he fought one of the seven warlords, Dracule Mihawk as you walked out of the restaurant. You stayed, watching his friends’ expressions. Two looked stressed, while one in red looked confident, the three of them too focused to notice you staring.

“Luffy, if I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman… You'll be disappointed. Right ?”

“You could never fail me.” The man in red said.

“Never… again. From now… until I beat him.” He draws his only remaining sword, raising it in the air. “To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again !” He declared, before letting his sword fall to the side, passing out and with that you left.

What you saw of them was too little to make you change your mind. So when you saw their ship leave after some time, you followed them, believing they were leaving to plunder some innocent town like every pirate does.

Until you saw with your own two eyes Luffy freeing Cocoyasi village and all of the Conomi Island from Arlong by defeating him.

You couldn't believe it.

The village had gathered to celebrate their freedom thanks to the small crew and you stood there amongst them, shocked.

You expected pirates like Arlong, they were the kind you knew since your early age. But pirates like Luffy ? It was your first time seeing or hearing about it.

Zoro came toward you, two plates in his hand. One for himself, one for you.

He handed you one, waiting for you to take it.

“...Thanks.” You said, unsure of what else to say as you grabbed the plate.

“Didn't think you'd follow me there.”

“You said they were different.”

“I did.”

“I didn't know it was possible. How did you know ?”

He shrugged, smiling.

“Luffy convinced me.”

“Why didn't you tell me you did that kind of thing ?”

“Would you have believed me if I told you we freed the people of Orange town ?”

“You what ?” You said in disbelief and Zoro chuckled at your reaction.

“An evil clown took the town hostage for his circus. Bunch of weirdos.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, you couldn't believe your ears.

“No. I wouldn't have believed you. Is this true ?”

“Yeah, they captured us because we have the Grand Line map.”

“Damn.” You said quietly, smiling as well. “I'm sorry. I know you're not stupid, I should've trusted your judgment.”

“No, I understand. I would've done the same in your place.”

“No, you would've tried to take my head.”

He laughed at that, nodding.

“Maybe so.” He smirked, glad you two were alright again.

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catholic-character-tournament · 10 months

Text

Round 5 - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler Propaganda:

good lord where do i start. in the animated series he converts logan to catholisism and then fucks off basically thats the main thing he did there. i think one time they tried to make him a demon to explain how he looked but everyone hated that. he sold his soul one time to help his friends out after he died. he and logan have a weird little gay thing. he was a priest one time but he was made a priest by a fake bishop from a religion that hates mutants iirc so he just wasnt a priest. like 3 people have written him in a way i like and one of those is my friend just talking about how they view him.

wow marvel loves making catholic characters dress/look like demons

Kurt is a mutant who was born to mystique who looks a LOT like a devil (technically is half one but that cannon truth isn’t real go back to bed), his mother dropped him off a cliff when he was born and he was picked up by a Romani group/circus (fuck old comics man) however he then narrowly escaped being sold to a freak show and found himself in a small German town. There he met a kind priest, who showed him God, and he quickly grew attached to the idea- However, it wasn’t long before people began labeling him a demon and soon the whole town was against him with pitchforks and fire. Cornered and injured, Kurt thought this might be the end for him- maybe he would see heaven so long after finding it- but he was then saved by Charles Xavier who invited him to the X-Men. AND ITS BEEN SO MANY YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH THERE. SO MUCH. SO GOD DAMN MUCH. BUT THE MOST AAAA THING TO ME CONCERNING HIS FAITH HE WHEN HE LITERALLY DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN BUT THEN BECAUSE OF DRAMA WITH HIS FATHER HAD TO BRING HIS FRIENDS IN WITH HIM FROM THE BEYOND. THEN WITH ALOT OF TROUBLE THEY FOUGHT HIS FATHER AND THE ONLY WAY KURT SAW TO STOP HIM WAS IN A MOVE THAT STRIPPED THEM BOTH OF THEIR SOULS AND PUT THEM BACK ON EARTH. SO KURT CANONICALLY HAS NOW LOST HIS ABILITY FOR ETERNAL PEACE, LOST HIS VERY SOUL, TO SAVE PEOPLE- AND ALSO TOLD NO ONE NOT EVEN HIS GAY LOVER WOLVERINE.

Nightcrawler is a mutant vigilante who looks like a classical demon. He can’t even go to church without people panicking and trying to exorcize him. Despite it all, he’s so full of faith and hope and compassion, and he wants to believe the best of everyone. Also, he’s bffs with an extremely angry Jewish sword lesbian. That has nothing to do with anything, but it’s important to me that you all know that.

What if you were a devout christian and literally looked like the devil? He nearly became the pope, which was a plot by some supervillains that also involved faking a rapture? There is nothing like comics I swear to god.

A catholic who is half demon I don’t think I can better explain a struggle than that. But his character is so relatable to people who feel unwelcome with their congregation because of something that is a part of them but still feeling a connection to the faith. Kurt actively engaged in his faith and shares how his faith helps him through all the things he has faced in life and how he found a home with those of the church who leave the judging to God.

so they made kurt a priest briefly before deciding to retcon it, resulting in nightcrawler actually being part of a plan by villains to promote him to pope then reveal to the world that the pope is a demon. wild.

I have a side blog and a tattoo about him and i really really want him to win

Wisecracking devil-appearing devout Catholic with the Best superpower (teleportation)? HECK YES

German Catholic circus acrobat who looks like a demon & can teleport through a hellish alternate dimension with a puff of sulfur. Character of all time.

hes catholic and his dad is the devil. what could be funnier than that. also hes my silly little guy.

Nightcrawler is the world’s most fun catholic priest. I first was introduced to this kindhearted teleporting acrobat while he saved a boat full of stowaway refugees from inter dimensional pirates with swashbuckling gusto!

#cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #polls #kurt wagner #x men #nightcrawler #marvel #xmen #x men comics #marvel x men #r5 #the derry girls #derry girls #sister michael

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dkmbookworm · 6 months

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Fizz Character Analysis (Spoiler Warning)

So when I was watching the newest episode of Helluva Boss, I will admit that I was slightly confused by Fizz’s explanation for why he felt he couldn’t quit working for Mammon. After all we saw that Asmodeus was trying to get him to quit working for him already and had spoken of how much he despised the man. So why does Fizz think that Ozzie will leave him or he’ll lose everything if he quits

However, when you look at the circumstances of Fizz’s life leading up to know and the influences he has around them, this actually does make a lot of sense for his character.

Chronologically speaking, we can see that at the beginning of his life in childhood, Fizz was already a child star in the circus, and was well loved and admired for his talents. He completely outperforms and overshadows Blitzo, and garners the attention of his father, Cash Buckzo. It’s been a running joke that Cash far prefers Fizz as a son because he is better than him and rakes in a lot more of a profit. But, we can understand this isn’t real affection, Cash assigns worth to being a good performer and being able to provide something to someone else in order to be loved. Fizz is overworked and under a lot of pressure in this kind of environment

This pops up again, when we see Fizz as a teenager. The pressure of being perfect is starting to get to him and he struggles to establish firm boundaries with others as we see with that rabid fan. Blitzo was the one who had to step in when he got aggressive, and even though everything that fan said was bullshit, his words still deeply affected Fizz.

Jumping forward again in the timeline, we see that Fizz has been picked up my Mammon as a performer. And again, all boundaries are gone as he makes robotic versions of Fizz to be sold all over hell for all manner of uses, and most commonly in the form of sex dolls. This very obviously makes Fizz incredibly uncomfortable but because he feels he owes his success to Mammon it is harder to turn him down without the backup that Blitzo provided to him when they were young.

And based on his treatment in the present day, Mammon Regularly

Scrutinizes his weight and appearance

Touches and manhandles him

Puts him through dangerous stunts

Forces him to talk to crowds of people when he’s already tired or stressed

Makes him deal with sexual harassment

Putting him into costumes that feel restrictive

And most likely he was already dealing with this kind of thing long before he even met Asmodeus and began to date him. The mindset he grew up with in childhood is being reinforced in this time frame. He is worthless if he isn’t performing, he always has to be striving to be better, he needs Mammon.

Another factor to keep in mind, is that while we don’t know this exactly, fizz has just come out of being severely disabled and traumatized by what happened in the fire with him losing his limbs and horns. And with the theory that Mammon was the one who initially provided him with his new robotic attachments, he would have to be feeling a lot of gratitude towards him for this. His image of himself coming out of this is fragile with this new version of his body to come to turns with, on top of losing his best friend. Making him extremely vulnerable and easy to take advantage of.

Then jumping forward again, we see that fizz has started a relationship with Asmodeus, one of the deadly sins, ranked only under Lucifer and his family. Both of them care very deeply for each other and have established very strong mutual trust and boundaries. Albeit, they do have to keep this secret (even tho they are very bad at doing this). Ozzie is protective of Fizz’s safety considering he is ranked much lower than him in hell’s hierarchy and that much more vulnerable to being hurt. This is one of the first positive relationships that fizz has been able to enjoy in a long time, and you can see that Ozzie has sort of filled the hole that blitz left (no pun intended). He acts as that barrier/voice that keeps him from people who cross his boundaries.

And while we can see that Ozzie is an amazing, loving partner to him, this isn’t going to fix the years upon years of problems he’s faced. His childhood, teen years, and a portion of his adulthood have been in the spotlight with managers exploiting him for profit. It is all he knows and they’re going to make sure he can’t leave.

Think about how Mammon knew that Fizz and Ozzie were an item. Think of how he would be talking to him in private telling him that Ozzie could leave him at any point because he’s just some imp. That without his fame and talents that he is nothing. The bottom of hell’s hierarchy.

One of the strongest elements to Helluva Boss’s storytelling is the way they lay out hints and background details that allow audiences to put together the story without it having to be exactly spelled out to us. And I think that is what they have done here, even if the pacing of the show can be a bit off at times. When we go back and rewatch the episodes that feature fizz we can see begin to see how he got to this point in his life and what it took for him to break out of it.

#helluva boss #fizzarolli #Blitzo #mammon helluva boss #asmodeus helluva boss #meta #timeline #helluva boss spoilers

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heliads · 7 months

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Let Me in Your Life (and I Swear I'll Never Leave It)

As one of Lewis Hamilton's oldest friends, you're sure he'll be nothing but happy for you when you're finally offered a Formula One contract. Lewis, however, remembers what competition like that can do to a friendship, and his reaction isn't what you expect.

masterlist

You don’t know it’s over until you see him.

That shouldn’t have been enough. It wouldn’t have been enough for anyone else. They would have seen his smile and thought that he was genuinely happy for you when you told him that all of your wildest dreams were finally coming true. So much of you wanted to believe him when he told you that he couldn’t be more proud that you almost convinced yourself of it.

Almost. Unfortunately, the part of you that has known Lewis Hamilton since you were a kid also knows his tells, and you watched the way his fingers twisted in front of him until you couldn’t take it any longer. Until you knew what he wouldn’t say to you on a perfectly good night like this, which is that Lewis was not pleased that you were finally entering Formula One, and no amount of wanting will fix that.

It cuts to the bone. This had been a lovely evening. You only get so many chances to spend time with Lewis outside of the media circus of a Formula One or Two paddock, so you really wanted to make this one count. You had even kept your good news to yourself just in case he wasn’t as thrilled about it as you were, feeling the secret burn against you all through the dinner at the nice restaurant whose menu you double, triple, and quadruple-checked to ensure that there were good vegan options. You withheld the news through wine, through pleasant laughter, even through the check, but you couldn’t keep it back afterwards.

The restaurant was nice enough. Lewis always looked good in expensive places. He fit in quite well in any scenario, but his smile was practiced and he never missed a social cue so long as he could help it. That’s what years of constant scrutiny does to you, you suppose; never again will the two of you be thirteen years old and utterly ignorant of the difference between salad and dessert forks. You miss the boy who could mess up around you. You haven’t seen him in a while, even ignoring both of your hectic travel schedules.

Lewis tends to get antsy after a heavy meal, the product of too much time spent around Mercedes-grade nutritionists and personal trainers, so the two of you went on a walk outside after leaving the restaurant. The air was crisp and cool, and dark enough that you could walk freely without being recognized. You had looked up at the stars overhead and made a wish that nothing would hurt you tonight.

Maybe you whispered the wish aloud as you said it, or maybe Lewis has always been able to read your mind and ruined the magic that way, because it wasn’t even half an hour before that desperate plea to the heavens was shattered along with your peace of mind.

You couldn’t keep it in any longer. All your life, you’ve wanted to make it to the Formula One circuit. Lewis has known this just about as long as you. You met him while karting, and you’ve been best friends ever since. You used to race everywhere– on the track, down the hall, whoever could make it to the door of their hotel room wins bragging rights for the next night at least– but over time, Lewis was able to make it up the Formula One ladder faster than you, and then you weren’t racing together any more but watching each other race in different circuits.

You did your best not to let it sting. Lewis has faced far more than his fair share of roadblocks. Maybe he always wanted it a little more than you, then, because no matter how hard you tried to follow in his path, your feet keep dragging in his dust. It took forever to get to F3, and you never thought you’d ever see the day when you made it to F2.

Now you’re just one good finish away from winning the Formula Two driver’s championship, and better still, you’re about to sign a contract with a Formula One team. After all this time, it’s finally yours. You’re still in talks about the nuances of the legal binding, but it’s basically in the bag.

Your family is aware, but you knew you needed to tell Lewis as well, even before the signing, because he’s basically your other half. You had always assumed that he would take it well, that he’d be just as thrilled for you as Nico was for Lewis when he first signed. When you bring up the subject, though, you can tell from the delicate shuttering of Lewis’ face that you were, for the first time in a long time, completely wrong about him.

The two of you are walking down a moonlit bridge when you finally say it. “I was meeting with an F1 team yesterday,” you tell him, “I think they’re going to sign me. We’ve been going over the contract for a while now and it’s basically all ironed out. The only thing left is to actually shake on it.”

You pause, waiting for the hearty congratulations he doled out when you made it to F3, then F2, but for F1, you’re only greeted with silence. You look at him, heart in your throat, but when you finally bring yourself to meet his eyes, you’re only greeted with– disappointment.

When the silence gets painful, Lewis coughs and looks away. “That’s– that’s great, Y/N. Really.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Really?”

Lewis has the grace to look ashamed. “I know I might not sound– it’s a fantastic accomplishment. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am,” you say slowly, “but are you proud of me? Because you certainly don’t look it right now. And it’s not just an accomplishment, Lew, this has been my dream for years. You know that.”

“I do,” Lewis answers you, but his voice is distant and he hasn’t looked you in the eyes since you first brought up the news.

It makes your blood run cold in your veins. In all the scenarios you’d imagined of how he’d react, you pictured his jaw dropping with surprise, his face immediately lighting up, him immediately texting his brother and the rest of his family the news. You never expected that he would actually be unhappy about it.

“Then why are you acting like this?” You gesture at him. “At least fake a smile, Lewis, I know you can.”

He looks at you at last, and you wince at the genuine hurt blinking back at you. “Don’t do it, Y/N,” he says suddenly.

You feel as if the breath has been stolen out of your lungs. “What?”

“Don’t do it,” he repeats, “Go to Indycar or Le Mans or Race of Champions. Do something crazy, something fun. Hell, try them all. Don’t let this be the end-all, be-all of your racing aspirations.”

There’s no way you’re hearing him properly. “You think I shouldn’t join Formula One? After all this time practically killing myself to get in, you want me to just walk away?” You shake your head slowly. “You had better have a good reason for this, because you’re my oldest friend and I know that friends wouldn’t do this to each other. You could have just said you were happy for me.”

Lewis’ gaze turns pleading. “You don’t know what it’s like in there. We go for each other’s throats all the time. I can’t let it destroy us.”

The night is silent. You watch the water lapping at the shores below as if in a dream. All is dark. Even the stars seem burned out overhead. Nothing good has happened here. Nothing worth the light of the moon above.

He says, “I don’t want to lose you. Not like everybody else.”

You say, “If you don’t let me do this, you will have lost me before I even start.”

You give him one last chance to change his mind. When he stays silent, you turn on your heel and leave. The sound of your shoes clicking against the cobblestones is maddeningly loud, drowning out all but the tumultuous beat of your heart. He doesn’t try to stop you. He does not do anything at all.

You call a taxi. The ride is quiet. You have half a mind to direct the driver to a club or something instead so you don’t have to live with that engulfing silence any longer, but instead you just have him drive you to your door and leave you there. You barely make it inside before breaking down in loud sobs that wrack your entire body. He should have told you how much he wanted you there. He should have told you how much he wanted you.

You wait until your tears dry, then call up the team principal of the F1 team and tell him you’re interested in signing the contract as soon as possible. They’re glad to hear it, and pleased enough that they don’t hear the wobble of your voice on the other end.

The rest of the season passes without a hitch. You win the F2 championship and are able to announce your contract not soon afterwards. All of the F1 drivers who cross your path make sure to congratulate you, and every one of their declarations of praise only hurts twice as much when you remember the one man who hasn’t said a word to you yet.

Winter break is eventful, even more than you were expecting. There are a hundred forms to sign and a thousand videos to film, countless mechanics to meet and endless trainings to complete. You’re given enough team kits to clothe a small nation. You officially meet your teammate on your first tour of the team facilities, and he is perfectly civil to you, even kind. He isn’t Lewis, though, and that’s enough for you to be disappointed.

At last, you reach the week before testing starts for the new season. You’re in a hotel room booked under your new team. It’s strange being here now after wanting this for so long. For years, you’ve dreamed of what it would be like to finally be here, and now you’re flopped on your hotel bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering if it’ll look different when you’ve raced in a Formula One car for the first time.

Truth be told, it’s terrifying. You thought you would know what to do by now, having repeated this process in the previous two series, but everything feels different now that you’re at the top. No one expects championships from a rookie in her first season, but you can’t help but feel that eyes are on you.

A knock on your door, and you’re immediately grateful to whoever it is for interrupting your relentless panicked musing on the infinite ways that tomorrow could go wrong. You pad over the door and open it without checking, expecting to be greeted by your teammate or your trainer or any one of the staff of your new team.

Instead, you swing open the door to find Lewis staring at you, hands in his pockets. You immediately jerk to a stop, so surprised that you even forget usual pleasantries like saying hello or asking how he’s been.

Lewis forgets too. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like centuries but could just be a few moments until he coughs, looks briefly at his feet and then back at you, and says, “I remember that you always overthink things the night before a big change. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

You nod a little too quickly. “I’m fine. Just, yeah, overthinking.”

A ghost of a smile flickers over Lewis’ lips, then disappears just as quickly. “Thought so. Do you mind if I come in? There’s actually a lot I need to say.”

An ugly, cruel part of your brain immediately whispers oh, now you have a lot to say? But you manage to shut it up before you say it and wordlessly gesture for him to enter the hotel room. You check the hallway before shutting the door, but no one’s there, no cameras. This isn’t a trap. It’s just a friend visiting a friend, something he used to do all the time before he decided that he would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t stop you from trying to reach your biggest dream.

When you head back inside, Lewis is leaning against the windows, idly peering outside. “You have a good view,” he notes.

You fold your arms across your chest. “You’re not here to discuss the perks of my hotel room.”

“No, I’m not,” Lewis agrees. “I’m here to apologize.”

This takes you by surprise. “You are?”

He nods. “I shouldn’t have tried to stop you. God knows I would have hated it if you had said something like that to me before I joined McLaren.”

Your brow furrows. “Then why did you say it to me?”

Lewis lets out a quiet, horror-struck sigh. “Because I meant part of it. I am terrified of losing you, Y/N. I know how competition can get in between friends. You know how well I know that. Nico’s already– we’re different now, and I can’t take it if I lose you, too.”

He breaks off, lost in thought, and you feel a pang in your heart as if struck by a blade. You and Nico were friends separate from the great doing and undoing of Lewis and Nico, but that was sort of inevitable. It feels as if every kid who was good at karting in your area eventually became friends, but all that did was give you a front row ticket to the so-called Silver War. What a terrible thing, to know someone like a brother and then only be able to speak to them through corporate meetups and scheduled interviews. What a horrific end to something that had once been, well, everything.

Your hands tense at your sides. “I’m not Nico.”

“I know that,” he says, almost frustrated, “I know. Trust me, I know. I have always known you. I know that we’ll be able to make it through anything, but I’m afraid of risking it. I knew at some point you’d get called up here, you’re too fast for them to ignore you, but I was hoping to have at least a little more time.”

You tilt your head to the side, frowning. “I thought you guessed already. Isn’t that why we scheduled that dinner?”

“No,” Lewis murmurs, “I scheduled that dinner because I wanted to tell you that I loved you.”

The ground has been pulled out beneath your feet. No, not just the ground– the very earth itself, every star in the sky and every heavenly body in the cosmos. You are abruptly removed from everything you have ever believed, because you know Lewis better than anyone and so you would have known if he loved you, you would have figured it out a long time ago. There is no way you wouldn’t have been able to tell. No way he could take you by surprise like this.

“No,” you whisper.

“Yes,” Lewis says simply. “I was going to do it after keeping it a secret for so long. And then you told me that we were going to be competitors, and I thought it was all going to be over. And I panicked and told you to leave, and you hated me, and it turns out I didn’t even need us crashing into each other on track to kill our friendship. I did that all by myself.”

“It isn’t dead,” you tell him fiercely. “Not in the slightest.”

He doesn’t seem to believe you. “We fought. We never do that.”

“That’s unrealistic,” you point out. “Everyone fights. Even married couples.”

“We’re not married, and you don’t even love me back,” Lewis argues.

You arch a brow. “How do you know that?”

“I would know,” he says without a trace of suspicion.

God, he’s just as stubborn as you. Just as set in his own ways. Maybe that’s why it has always been the two of you, even after everything. Maybe that’s why you always chose him in every friend group, in every issue, in every race. No one understands you like Lewis, and no one ever will. No one will stand by your side no matter what, no one will say what you need to hear because no one knows exactly how you work like Lewis does.

Still, you can surprise him from time to time. He certainly doesn’t expect it when you cross the room in a few brisk strides, when you reach across the chasm of one fight and one great misunderstanding to kiss him. It takes him a moment to realize what you’re doing and what this means, and then his hands are on your hips, pulling you closer, because Lewis will never give up an advantage when it is offered to him and right now Lewis wants this more than anything. He wants you, more than anything.

“You’re never going to let me hear the end of it when you finish ahead of me in a race, are you?” He asks in a half-mumble against your lips.

You smile, and you can feel his returning grin when he kisses you again. “Absolutely not. You never let me off that easily when we were kids.”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Lewis points out.

“No,” you say slowly, “We’re not, are we?”

It is not a bad thing. In fact, looking at all the years you have, all the races together, all the plane tickets you’ll book side by side, all the hotel rooms you’ll share, you think you like this new era of your life quite a bit better than anything. Lewis would have to agree, if the shine in his eyes means anything at all. Both of you will never be the same, but you will never be like this again, either. We are all different, all the time, but the one thing that will never change is how you do it: together, always together.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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taylormarieee · 29 days

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IDK IF YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN, BUT I HAVE AN IDEA!! WHAT IF THERE WAS A READER THAT LIKE WAS IN THE CIRCUS?? LIKE THEY DONT HAVE TO BE A RUNAWAY BUT LIKE THEYRE IN A CIRCUS, AND LIKE LUKE GOES TO THE CIRCUS THAT THEY ARE IN AND LIKE IDK HES ON A QUEST OR SMTH AND IDK IDK. AND I DONT HAVE ALL RHE DETAILS BUT THEY COULD GO BACKSTAGE OR SMTH 🤭😏 AND THEN THERE COULD BE FLUFF AT THE END?? ILYYY

- 🪰 (a simple fly on the wall 😗)

LMAOOO! This was too cute, I love you too! You are my slutty little fly on the wall pookie! Ofcc I have a idea of what your trying to go with and I got you babes. Can be found in my masterlist as "Daredevils and One night stands"

You were an acrobat. You did cool tricks and were very flexible. You enjoyed working at the circus. It brought you peace and made your blood run hot in your veins.

Everybody called you a daredevil, sometimes even a clown with the stuff you did. You were a goofball and goofed around everyday. Playing with your life on that tightrope. But you didn't care.

Not one bit. It was exciting for you, not fearful. So when you had your next show tonight you decided to be extra dangerous. You decided you were going to walk on the tight rope with fire.

"Are you ready?" Your partner for the stunt asked. You gave him a big smile and nodded. "Hell yea I'm ready!" You say juggling both the unlit torches in your hand.

What you weren't expecting was that there was this fine ass boy in the stands that you could see from backstage. He had a scar on his eye, black curls, and the most beautiful smile you've ever seen.

His lips so full and pink, and god you wanted to suck on them all night. His jawline was immaculate and his facial features were just god like.

As if Zeus crafted him himself. You stared at him and soon he looked in your direction and made eye contact. You smiled and waved and he smirked and waved back.

'God what the hell were you doing'. You internally face palmed and rolled your eyes. You heard someone call your name. It was jake, your partner for the stunts.

"Ok so after the clowns go, we go up there and close out the show. You'll be balancing on my shoulders while I walk and you hold the fire. Your then going to flip the torches in the air, do a handstand on my shoulders and then I will catch the torches, got it?" He asks with a savage smirk on his face.

"I was born ready baby!" You laugh as you two do your signature handshake before preparing by getting dressed and getting your props ready.

After the show your met with everyone backstage, each and everyone of you congratulating each other on a great job.

You tie your curls up into a bun and make your way to your dressing room. On the way there your stopped by the same cute boy that was in the audience.

'How'd he get down here?' You thought. "Hey, I'm Luke and I just wanted to say your performance was bat shit crazy, but I liked it." He says with a charming smile.

You get to see his features up close and damn was he fine. Sexist boy you've ever seen. His scar looks so much better up close and his plump lips are so pink.

His smile is amazing with pearly whites radiating and shining under the dim light.

"Hi, uhm thank you! I am a bit of a daredevil so you know... Would you like to come in?" you ask with a polite smile on your face.

He nods and you look down at his lips with a smile. 'God I wonder how his lips would feel on my pu-' You shake your thoughts away before they get too far and open the door to your trailer.

He lets you go in first and then he goes in and closes the door. 'Wow hot and a gentleman!' You thought.

"Welcome to my humble abode. Hope you like it." You say with a laugh. He chuckles with you and sets himself down on the couch.

"I usually don't allow people in here, especially strangers but for you I've made an exception." You say walking to the mini fridge to grab a soda.

He gets up and comes up behind you. You don't feel his presence at first until you stand up back still faced him and you hear his voice.

"Glad you did. Wouldn't have gotten to meet the girl I've been feigning for all night." He whispers as he wraps a hand around your waist.

Your eyes go wide as you spin around noticing he's pinned you against the counter. You gulp and put the two soda's you pulled out on the countertop.

"I-Is that right... h-how lucky am I." You say nervously as his eyes rake over your body like a scanning machine. His eyes are darker than before and he looks intrigued yet intimidating. Your a lot shorter than him so he towers over you extremely.

"Wanna make you scream for some odd reason. Like I'm addicted to you and I need you. So why don't you be a good girl and bend over so I can beat that pretty pussy up hm?" He says lowly. His voice demanding and seductive.

You obey and bend over against the cold countertop and let Luke rip off all articles of clothing that belong to you.

You whimper out at the feeling of his fingers sending small light smacks to your ass. He rubs his fingers along your pussy lips and gathers all your wetness before trailing his fingers up to your clit.

He rubs his fingers in a figure 8 motion sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Oh f-fuck Luke! Right there, that feels s-so good, mhmm!" You whimper out as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Ya gonna cum baby? hmm? Just off my fingers? How pathetic." He degrades. You whine as your thighs shake. He's knuckles deep and your begging for a release.

He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean before you can even feel the sweet sensation of your release. "Ohh Luke c'mon! Pleasee!" You whine out hearing him chuckle behind you.

"Oh come on princess, you don't even know me. You want this badly huh?" He says chuckling at how desperate you are.

"Well it's not my fault," you starts as you turn to face him pointing your finger in his chest. "You came in my trailer, touching on me and getting me riled up saying how you wanted to pound my pussy. So live up to what you said and fuck me!" You say in aroused frustration.

The need to cum getting to your head and making you dizzy. He smirks and bends you over. He runs his lengthy, girthy cock through your soaked folds and you whimper.

“Gosh just put it in alre- ahhh!” You cry out as Luke thrusts his cock inside your tight walls.

His thrusts hard and fast as he rams his big fat cock in you.

“yea? Hmm? Shut you up real quick! Like this dick in your walls baby?” He says with a smirk on his face.

you whine out moaning at the feeling. You claw at his bicep feeling the muscle flex under your fingertips.

“ahh gon gonna cum Lukey, I’m gonna cum so hard! Can I cum please?” You beg feeling your orgasm approaching faster than you thought.

He chuckles darkly behind you and before he can even answer your door flies open causing Luke to pause his abuse on your cunt as he looks at the door revealing your stunt partner standing there in awe.

Your eyes wide as you freeze as you’ve just been caught having sex in your trailer by your best friend…

Taglist:@elaratckker @lizziesfirstwife @angelicdanvers @prettyinsatiable @angelinajolie0213 @maryann2013 @kneehe-nehar7 @rhydianissuperior @urmomsbananabread @reader-bookling123 @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @csifandom @repostingmyfavs @leo-lvr @glorywielder101 @aanoia @madelainelupin16 @ahh-chickens @callsignwidow @murdrdocs @bright-molina

A/N: part two???? Hope yall enjoyed! mwah💋

#my man <3 #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #lukecastellan #pjo luke #luke castellan fanfiction #charlie bushell #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell imagine #luke castellan fanfic #pjo smut #pjo series #🪰anon<33

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apollowhoo · 2 years

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Can I’m have a platonic request from owl house collector x parental reader who always wanted a child but it couldn’t then y/n meets collect and learn his history y/n decides to adopted him and y/n is very overprotective over them also I’m don’t see collector as a god who have a appearance and mind of a child for me it like a child who have powers of a god headcanons please

(this is like the 3rd The Collector request)

(The Collector goes by he/them and i'm using him)

The Collector x Parental!Reader

you probably never found a guy that you liked. You always wanted a family but a family needs a good father yk?

you met The Collector while you were taking a walk in the woods, it wasn't too warm or cold. It was the perfect weather to take a walk.

When you stumbled across The Collector, at first you thought he worked at the circus or something like that. I mean he was wearing an unusual outfit and he had what you assumed face paint on his face.

You guys started talking for a bit he was a nice boy. You kinda felt bad for his ''parents''. They must've really love him, he was a very cheerful child.

When you eventually learned that he didn't had parents at first you kinda felt bad for him and then it hit you...this wasn't a ''child''.

I mean you should've realised sooner, no kid would dress up like this and be wondering around the woods this late.

He is a god. But he seemed so sweet and it was obvious that he didn't had a place to stay in, did gods even needed homes?

You offered him to stay over and to your surprise, he accepted your offer!

Ever since then, you guys started living together, like a family.

The Collector is someone who gets bored very easily so it's really hard to distract him you'd have to play with him for hours for him to get tired. He's just too energetic.

Don't get me wrong you like playing with him but at times you get tired. He's just so exited to find someone who is willing to play games with.

At first you were low-key scared of him but at this point he's like your real child.

He might be a god but he has the looks and has the mind of a five year old. You'd see him as a five year old. I mean he's very whiny when you don't give him attention, if you're busy he wouldn't leave you alone until you play more games with him or he'd sometimes try running off by himself even though you tell him that it isn't the best idea.

You tried making him look more like a ''witch'' but uh...that doesn't go so well. He isn't all that patient and he'd just would not let you to do your thing because he's always moving.

You don't really want him to leave the house because someone might try to do something to him or he'd just scar the other wizards/witches. He has very high potential to cause trouble around.

He doesn't like this rule so he often tries getting out of the house and each time you catch him.

He's extremely clingy to you like he'd just come up to you and hug you out of nowhere and when you ask him why'd he do it, he'd just say ''I don't know''.

Also you have top give him affection back. If you don't, he's gonna be very sad...and whiny.

He'd play any game you want with him. It doesn't really matter as long it is a game. You guys mostly play hide and seek.

-Over all you both love each other and find comfort in a way?

#the collector x you #the collector #the owl house #the owl house headcanon #parent reader #toh season 3 #toh x reader #toh #toh collector #toh headcanon #toh au #the collector toh #toh s3 #platonic #platonic relationships #viral #the owl house x reader #toh season three

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theangrycomet-art · 3 months

Text

Sonic Underground Reprise: Hedgehog Family Tree Hedge

Here- the parents, the aunts, the uncles, the grandpa and grandma's and even some cousins.

Now, are most of these characters relevant to the main plot? No. But if you have followed me for any amount of time you should know of my love of expanding character's family trees.

COMMISSIONS OPENED

Kofi

Family Notes: (this gets kinda long)

Parlouzer Lore (paternal side)

Charlotte was a sailor who split her time exploring and fishing with her crew

she may or may not have been a pirate

Maurice was a skilled carpenter who worked from his home workshop in Port Mobius

he was just a humble, if a bit on the quiet side,

the two met by chance when Charlotte was exploring the area while Maurice was trying to get groceries

instantly charmed with one another, they kept in touch and she made it a point to always come back to see him every chance she could

after about 5 years of this she proposed to him and the two were married the next day

Chuck was born shortly after (honeymoon baby)

he mostly stayed on the mainland with his father while Charlotte continued working on the high seas

Julius was born when Charles was 12, and Pauline Pauli when he was 19

Chuck left for college early at 16, so he wasn’t particularly close with his younger brothers until they were practically adults

Jules ran away when he was 13 to join the circus, completely cutting off contact for nearly 5 years

At 17, he and several other members of the circus (including Argus) were arrested in Casino City after being framed for treason by a rival performance troupe. Due to their age however, the two were given an alternative to jail time: enlistment, which they begrudgingly accepted (this was HIGHLY illegal btw, as both were underage and therefore not qualified to be enlisted)

around 3 years into service, Chuck got wind of the bullshit charges placed on his brother and threatened to raise hell if the two were not brought back home immediately

Jules and Argus were then hired as a part of the Royal guard where they were charged initially with guarding King Max’s son, Crown Prince Nigel

Pauli avoided trouble growing up, having taken more after his father than his lovely, impulsive older brothers

Ihe developed a passion for piloting and decided to start his own delivery business, which would be how he would meet his future wife Bernie

Bernie

Nadim Lore

ditch the royal family part and exchange it for a powerful magic fam

Hatshe is the matriarch of a powerful magic guild, the Rising Sun, though she has retired from any official position

the Rising Sun was formed by Aman-Rapi long ago

Hatshe met Olgilvie when traveling through the Kingdom of Mercia when the then King requested the aid of the Rising Sun’s strangest magician (they had meant to request “strongest” but their had been a slight typo, luckily for them Hatshe was both)

Bastard son of a a duke, Olgilvie was knight renound for his skills with a blade as well as the strings

he was assigned to aide Hatshe in her assignment

the two did not get along initially, as both were headstrong individuals who had their own way of doing things, but eventually became friends, and later lovers

He ran off after her once her assignment had been completed and continued courting her back home

Layla is Aleena’s older sister, as well as the current leader of the Rising Sun

Though she may appear calm, collected, and regal, outside of official appearances she is a very much a dork who is not above a little mischief

she met Terios when the were children during the family’s travels

more specifically, she found his half dead body lie partway out of a river bank

he was taken in to the guild, where he showed strong promise in healing magic

childhood friends-> lovers, slowburn 160k words basically

everyone knew that they liked eachother except themselves

despite some initial mishaps, the guild has been thriving under her leadership

despite Robotnik’s efforts, their guild halls have remained hidden to him, as well as serving a safe havens for those trying to escape his reign

they work loosely with the Resistance, though Layla leaves it up to the individuals to come forwards and offer aid

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 11 months

Text

You Go First ~ D.G.

A/n: Took me a hot second but here he is! It’s really fucking short for some reason? Idk it all came to me in a rush and I just had to get it down. Hope you still like it!

Request: “Dick Grayson x male reader, reader and dick go on a mission which leads to them confessing at the same time.” By anon

MASTERLIST

“NIGHTWING.” A head snapped over, eyes scanning as quickly as possible to see why the voice had called out to him. When he saw Y/n hefting the large beam and leaning back, readying to chuck it like a baseball… well, there really was only one thing to do.

He hit the deck.

They’d originally met as kids, both working in the same circus. Where Dick had been one of the Flying Graysons, Y/n had been a sight to behold: the youngest strong man ever known. Y/n was seven years old and could lift anything from a whole adult person to cars. Dick had kept track of all of his friends from the circus when he’d lost his parents and been whisked away by Bruce Wayne, especially when they picked up Superboy for the first time and a bunch of teenagers who didn’t get taken seriously formed a team wholly their own.

Now Dick wasn’t that kid anymore. Robin was someone else’s title, onto its third holder as he had moved onto the man he was now. Tim fit the role much better than Dick had.

They’d met again when Dick had still been Robin though. The team had infiltrated the circus to look into a string of robberies that were being tired to the very place and people who had practically raised him. How could he have not looked into it?

Y/n was still in the circus, eight years older and much much stronger. Even Connor had been surprised at seeing Y/n picking up whole cars without breaking sweat. When Dick said that he had been able to do that for years (claiming he’d gotten the information from a newspaper) Connor had admitted that he wasn’t impressed at the feat of strength itself but in Y/n’s performance. It was easy to tell for Connor that Y/n was much stronger than he was letting on but was pretending to be the exact same level of strength he had been at seven. A safe bet for someone trying to stay off the radar in a world full of heroes - and, scarier, villains - but also a safe play when he “pushed his limits” to show off for the crowd and still was well within things he could pick up without risking his safety or health.

It had been hard not to be fascinated with his childhood friend after that. How strong was Y/n? How was he so strong? Dick hadn’t thought about it as a kid of course, but as Robin, in a world full of super people, it made him curious now. Had he been an experiment? Was he alien? A meta? He told himself the curiosity was professional, that he was worried these robberies might be Y/n’s work. After all, he had the strength to pull it off - and they didn’t know if strength was all he had.

But even when it turned out not to be Y/n, Dick kept in touch. First writing letter, and then phone calls and texts and face times. They were talking a lot, and he got himself in trouble a few times for answering a brief call or text or listening to a voice message while on patrol.

When a traveling superhero popped up out of nowhere with superhuman strength but no ability to fly, Dick was on top of it as Robin. The new guy was just the right age for his team. But then he recognized the build and abilities. The motif of the “Strong Man” gave Y/n away even before he spoke and his voice sealed the deal.

To Y/n’s credit, he recognized Dick just as quickly. It made him realize that it wasn’t an act of detective skill. Y/n was a lot of things but he wasn’t a trained eye like the Batfam was driven to be. That meant that the recognization was proof of familiarity. Y/n simply knew the way his body moved and the expressions his face made and the lilts and rises of his voice. Dick knew Y/n just as intimately.

How many people was Dick on such a personal level with?

It had created a tension between them that Dick hadn’t been able to ignore. Or handle. Even now, nothing has gone particularly wrong. Their plan was sailing without a hitch. Everyone was safe and accounted for and within line of sight. The mental link was up and running no problem and they were coordinating with their usual fluid ease. They were winning, and it was happening quickly. Dick shouldn’t be as jumpy as he was.

And yet.

As the metal beam shot over his head and smacked into one of the enemy supers, Dick found himself not worried for the one getting a beam to the face but the one who’d thrown it. Y/n wiped sweat off his forehead while also ducking a second attack. He had taken the time to defend Dick from an enemy that had been behind him. Dick might have been in a pickle for the first time the whole fight if Y/n hadn’t intervened.

It was almost comical how eager they were to make sure the other was having the easiest time possible. Even as Dick went to mock Y/n’s protectiveness, he flung a smoke bomb to blind someone taking a swing at Y/n.

The entire fight they were like that.

Not exactly back to back, but watching out for each other every single step. They were like parts of a machine. Two halves of a whole. Where either stumbled, the other immediately stepped in - and there was a lot of that when both of them were so busy taking care of the other person. It was throwing th e enemies off to try and attack Y/n and get a batarang pinning a sleeve to the wall behind them; or to go for Dick and get tackled to the ground, pinned and unable to move too quickly to stop Y/n from keeping them in place with a bent pipe or a piece of rope.

Dick had never fought like this before. Eventually he stopped worrying about the enemies coming for him specifically. He completely trusted Y/n to handle them. It made him feel… wonderful. Completely placing himself into Y/n’s hands and not once being let down.

It was like a drug, and he was high.

When the fight ended, Dick was wonder struck to realize that he wasn’t cool calm and collected like he usually was. He was exhausted and on edge. He was almost like how he was when he first started - before the toll of his decisions had completely come crashing down on him. Before he’d lost a brother in this new family of heroes he had found. Fighting was fun, and quipping came easily. He wanted to keep going. He could keep doing this all day.

It was probably that energy that drove him to turn to Y/n. It was habit to look, to make sure he was okay, but it was pure adrenaline that didn’t stop him there. A look suddenly wasn’t enough. As if Y/n was having the exact same thought they began moving at the same time and met in the middle. Dick told himself that he was checking for injuries but when Y/n went for a kiss he didn’t hesitate to reciprocate.

Artemis smirked. “I was wondering how long it would take them.”

Wally put his arm around her, smirking. “Took us ages didn’t it? But it happens eventually.” He shrugged, sighing in content as he watched his best friend part from the man he cared so deeply for, grinning. He hadn’t seen Dick that happy in a while… “If he breaks his heart I’ll kill him,” he mumbled under his breath.

Artemis covered her smile. Wally had stopped joking, his quip dying on his lips at seeing Dick radiating such energy and light. Radiating such love.

It must have been serious then.

“For his own good, I suppose he better behave then,” she decided. If Wally didn’t kill Y/n, she would have to. That boy better be on his best behavior.

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

#dick grayson #nightwing #Young Justice #dc #dick Grayson x reader #dick Grayson imagine #dick Grayson x male readers #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #young Justice x reader #young Justice x male reader #young Justice imagine

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songmingisthighs · 6 months

Text

Genesis

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | m.list | next >>

ch. lxxi - tequilla shots, 10 to be exact

fashion mogul!mingi × reader

tw : mentions of sexual harrassment

buy me coffee ?

!! A T T E N T I O N !!

things aren't always what it seems but when even the truth is left unheard, what can people do? one musn't lie but what if the lie is more accepted than the truth? the scariest thing in this world isn't monsters or demons. it's people with no agenda and time to waste.

It musn't have taken a long time from the time Yunho opened the door to where you were next.

One moment you were folding Mingi's laundry in his room and the next thing you know, you were with the man whose underwear you were folding, the man who had been actively avoiding you, in the hallway, facing each other whilst sitting diagonally with a bit of space between you two. Neither of you had talked since Yunho excused himself out the door. It had been 10 minutes since you both sat down and it felt like one of you was waiting for the other to open a conversation first. It was a waiting game between the two of you.

Until one cracked first.

"I... Won't blame you for keeping things from me, I don't blame you at all," Mingi spoke out, voice cracking slightly as if his emotion was trying to get the best of him, "I just want to know why," he didn't look at you for one but as he spoke but you understood why he did that. You understood why he didn't want to be influenced by the look on your face as you uncovered the secret behind your break up with Hongjoong.

"Hongjoong and I met when I was still an intern at Couvang and he was an associate in his previous company, learning how to be a merchandiser and I contacted him to get connected to his boss which I failed to do and he felt bad for the rejection so he took me out. We officially dated two months after the rejection and we helped each other with our respective careers. Then he moved to work at The Gallerio and I was so happy for him because he got his dream job at his dream company and I got to accompany him. Considering the demands in his line of work and the clause in my contract, we decided to keep our relationship as close as we could by severely limiting our couple tweets and drowning those couple tweets in other tweets. We tried our best and it was proven to be effective, no one cared that we were together or they simply didn't know because after Hongjoong got his recognition, he stopped tagging me upon my request. Then comes the wedding. You would've thought that we broke up because of budgeting issues or guest lists or maybe an issue with our exes but nothing of the sort, the wedding planner even said that we were one of the most decisive and in tune couple she had ever worked with. Hell, we even went under budget and over the top somehow. I remember... It was one night after my dress-fitting, I brought my cousin whom we appointed as the flower girl and I told him about how her mom was grateful that we involved them simply because she now had something to do other than chauffeur her kids and attend to her husband. Hongjoong said that he felt bad that she had to go through life as a stay-at-home mom and I told him that I could see why she decided to become a stay-at-home mom because raising kids, being a chauffeur, taking care of her husband's needs, whilst still being expected to have a social life is a whole circus of its own and it was worth it and that I was thinking that once we start having kids of our own, I'd quit my job and be a stay-at-home mom myself. That night, we didn't talk more about that but I had a feeling that Hongjoong kept something from me. Turns out, by the end of the week, he packed his things while I was at work, waited for me to come home, then tearily said 'I'm sorry for doing this, I just can't respect someone who'd throw away their career, what they worked so hard for, to be a stay-at-home parent' then he hauled his ass out of my life and apparently to Europe before I could understand what he meant and it wasn't until I called his aunt from the countryside that I realized what had happened. He left me because of something that hadn't happened yet and I was so embarrassed that I failed in my relationship that I haven't even told my friends because I don't want them to think of me the same way," you chuckled bitterly.

You hadn't realized that you were crying because you were so focused on telling your side of the story until your face was cupped gently and you saw Mingi looking at you with a broken-hearted look on his face. When did he even got that close to you? It was true, Mingi expected that the reason for your breakup was differences or clashing opinions when you were planning your wedding. He even considered the possibility of one of you cheating and he hated himself for hoping that if that were the case, it was you who cheated because he was pissed at the situation. Something, anything that could justify your action which may or may not be based on shame. But never could he have imagined that it was because of something as stupid as employment or the lack of to focus on being a mom which he thinks is a noble thing.

In all honesty, Mingi had nothing to say about your situation because he felt disgusted. He was disgusted by himself for basically forcing you to revisit such a painful memory. How could he have done that? He wanted to apologize, he wanted to let you know how he never should have done that, forced you to share something so sensitive. But he didn't want to make things about him. He didn't want to make it about him because if he apologized, he knew you'd accept it and that would only alleviate his guilt but not take away your pain.

Mingi thought that the least he could do was to open up to you himself.

"H-have I told you about the gay allegation? M-my gay allegation?" He started meekly, afraid that you'd react badly. But through teary eyes that he soon helped wipe away with the calloused pad of his thumb gently, you stared at him with only curiosity and that got him to crack a small smile, the smile that you missed over the past couple of days. "Well... I... I also haven't told my friends this because over time, I think the truth became irrelevant and I'm just... Desensitized to it."

You could see that it was hard for Mingi to talk about it judging by how long it took him to form his sentence. "Mingi... You don't-" But he cut you off immediately.

"I used to have a mentor. He was my college professor and a prominent figure in contemporary fashion and he was like a father to me. He helped me land an internship at a creative house that often works with big brands and even after I started working there, he still mentored me. When Men's Today poached me to be an associate editor, he threw a party in my honour. That was the first time the photographer I had worked with often times groped me. He cornered me when I was alone in the men's room and he grabbed my ass, pulled me close to him and told me how his wife wouldn't mind him tasting me just to see how talented I was. I pushed him away and ran to my mentor and I told him everything, I told him what happened while crying and when he heard that, he cried too but he congratulated me. He said that it was... Part of the job, to be flirted with and even touched inappropriately without my consent and I can't complain. I can't report them. Not if I want to succeed and make a name for myself. But I was determined to break the cycle, I wanted to stop the harassment and just be known for what I can do but through every situation I was cornered and forced, and abused, I realized that these people are smart. There was no way I could prove that they sexually harassed me and they made sure I know that I will never be able to work in the industry if I report them. So I made a choice to work within the corrupted, broken system to protect people like me. Through the groupings, hand holdings, arm linking and cheek kisses in public, I let them happen because I didn't want to lose the reputation I had built on crying every night because I felt disgusted by myself for not having more spine about this issue, why did I let myself go through it? It never got easier, I just got numb, I guess."

The tears you shed before were from reliving your own pain but this time, it was for Mingi who had to endure all the pain and shame all by himself. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't even tell his friends, For you, your friends were aware of the things going on with Hongjoong except for the part where he said he couldn't respect you if you decided to give up your job. But Mingi couldn't even tell his friends that he was being taken advantage of.

"Mingi, oh my god, that's not just harassment, that's assault I think," you sighed, closing your eyes in dejection. Mingi bitterly smiled and nodded, "At best, I guess."

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked, hiccuping slightly.

At first, Mingi just pursed his lips, wanting to tell you that it was because he wanted to return the favour of being vulnerable. But he knew it wasn't true, it wasn't as simple as sharing pain because he could've told you about the time his dad left him which was a more common pain. He could've told you about the time he was bullied all through elementary school because he was lanky and nerdy and didn't seem like he had much in him. So why did he decide to tell you something traumatic that was still going on?

"I... I trust you," he said, shoulders relaxing as if admitting that relieved him of burden. "Don't you trust your friends too?" that question could've stumped Mingi because it was true, he trusted his friends. But with you, it felt different.

Carefully, Mingi let his hands envelop yours, the warmth that transferred slowly from his skin to yours, comforting you as soon as you felt his warmth, "I trust them a lot. They're basically my brothers, that's why if they didn't trust me, if they mocked me, or if they rejected me because of this, I wouldn't be able to take it. But you? I'm not saying that you're broken, but you've had your fair share of bitter pill in life, hard decisions you were forced to take, paths you were put on that was never your plan, hopes that were squandered by someone you trusted, you loved. So I believe that you'd trust me, you'd accept me despite what I faced."

Your heart clenched at his words. All this time you thought that he was an indecisive dumbass, a product of coddling, a stereotypical stupid jerk. Turns out he was just a child at heart who was never given the opportunity to make his own choice, that's why he didn't know what kind of decision to make when he actually had the chance to, how to react in situations that's troubling. It's not his fault he's a dumbass, he had just been living life the way people forced him to and he had been desensitized by his situation that he has the emotional ability of a 5-year-old. He's just a child at heart.

More tears poured down your cheeks, causing Mingi to panic, thinking that he had said the wrong thing to you. But before he could even apologize for making you cry, you reached over and hugged him as tightly as you could without harming your belly. "I'm sorry for not telling you about me and Hongjoong, not giving you a chance to choose how to react and not trusting that you could handle the information," you sobbed into his chest, taking him completely by surprise. "I shouldn't have done that, I should've told you but I was scared and ashamed of what happened between me and him. I thought it wouldn't have mattered anyway until Hongjoong showed up at the hospital and ever since then, I have been making the wrong decision." Slowly, Mingi's arms wrapped around your waist, reciprocating your guilt and accepting your apology. "I'm sorry too for leaving just like that, not having a conversation first," sneakily he peeked down at your belly and smiled tearily, "Thank you for accompanying your mom while daddy was being a dodo, bean." You pushed him, laughing genuinely for the first time in two days, "You're such a dork," you said as you pushed him lightly on the shoulder, now in a lighter mood.

You were about to sit back down in your previous spot when Mingi pulled you in gently flush to him so he could rest his cheek on the top of your head. It felt nice, you felt safe. Mingi felt secure like he was a fortress made out of the most comfortable, sturdy material. If that's a thing.

"So..." You sighed, nervous slightly, "What do we do now?"

"We face whatever comes next," then you felt him slink a hand around your waist, resting his palm on your stomach while his other hand used his thumb to caress the back of his palm, "Together."

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@ateezourstars @phenomenalgirl9 @90s-belladonna @yunhorights @yuntokkie @stopeatread @aestheticsluut @spooo00oky @kodzukein @galaxypox @mayonnaisehoeshit @maddiebabyxoxo @dreamlesswonder86 @charreddonuts @jwnghyuns @angelicyeo @axo-l0tl @gxlden-bxbyy @bbymatz @blaaiissee @kyume02 @aurora-tiny @senpai-of-doom @meowmeowminnie @thesolarplanetarysystem @seonghwaddict @miaatiny @soobiverse @alyssajavenss @yayaistime @juicy-red @moo-moo-bitch666 @camillelafaye

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