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criibibi · 9 months ago

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Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

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Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste

It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.

And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.

With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.

Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.

And there is a pattern.

What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.

Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit.

Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.

But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.

A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.

“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.

“On my way.” He replied.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

“So you see…”

After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.

You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.

You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location.

This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck!

All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.

You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.

No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.

And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.

Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.

You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.

Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.

Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.

You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.

So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.

“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”

“Um, I’m not a k-”

“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”

Spider luck?

Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”

“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”

Spider luck.

After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.

The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I’m not-” The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.

So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.

Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot.

Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.

It certainly is a sight.

It was that very day that you had your very first fight.

Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.

Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.

The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.

He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed.

“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.

What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored.

So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.

This time he kicked, you parried.

He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.

“What the fuck man?!”

“Hit the kid!”

“My money’s riding on you dickface!”

“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”

It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.

“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.

You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”

Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.

“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.

Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”

The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.

With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.

By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”

“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”

The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”

Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.

“Booyah baby!”

You bought a phone the next morning.

And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.

You were not taking any chances.

Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless.

“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”

Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”

“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”

Fucking spider luck.

Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location.

And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.

He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”

Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.

You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department.

It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.

Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.

Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.

It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.

“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought.

Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.

It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.

Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”

The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.

“Don’t be rude, Dame.”

“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”

“Hey wait a minute!”

“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”

Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.

After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong.

Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.

You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.

Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.

But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home.

You can’t even go home.

Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.

Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.

This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.

Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.

Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.

Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?

You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.

It couldn’t be…right?

Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.

The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.

In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.

You were royally fucking screwed.

Fuck- fuck! No, no nono!

All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again.

And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.

God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.

You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.

Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.

Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.

You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.

Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.

‘They know. Scatter.’

It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in.

Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.

They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes.

It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun…

Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”

Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”

“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”

“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”

“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.

“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.

It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.

Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.

Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.”

Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”

Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment.

“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.

Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!”

Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.

Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”

Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.

Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.

“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.

“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.

Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.

Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.

His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.

Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased.

“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”

“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”

Jon tunes into the conversation again.

“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.”

“The usual?”

“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”

“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”

“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”

“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.

Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”

“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”

“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.

Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”

“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.

“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”

“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.

“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”

Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.

Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”

Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.

As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.

Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.

Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.

The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.

And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be.

Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.

You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.

No.

After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will.

You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north.

Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.

On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans.

The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead.

Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!

Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.

While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone.

Something just isn’t adding up.

Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you.

With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.

Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.

The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face.

It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”

The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.

While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.

He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up.

You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!

Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!

“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.

Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected.

Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.

He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment.

“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.

Prev; Next;

I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.

Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.

Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.

Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.

If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.

Spider-Woman's is bad at grieving and worse with failure.

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thewitchblue · 2 months ago

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"Go, go, go."

Duke whispered while manipulating the light to create a shadow right next to you. You can teleport through shadows and let yourself get swallowed entirely by the provided shadows to make you impossible to detect.

You muttered curses under your breath, but did as you were told just in time for a young man to burst into the room. You hugged yourself as the frigid temperature of the shadows sink in slowly. It's like winter in the shadows.

"Who were you talking to?"

Dick asked with a suspicious look. Duke tried not to look in your direction. You could have already left the manor, but he still didn't want to reveal you and expose your abilities.

"Nobody."

Duke tried to lie in a convincing tone. Dick didn't believe Duke in the slightest and started to look around the room regardless. He heard two voices coming from Duke's room as he was passing by.

Dick couldn't find anyone after searching every corner. He almost ran into you several times, however, and nearly made you jump out of his way.

Maybe Duke was on a video call with someone. He was tempted to check Duke's phone, and he plans to tap the phone to receive all the texts and record all calls, but he can let Duke assume he let this go from the moment. He needs to know now that his curiosity is piqued. Fortunately, Duke is the only one with a normal sleep schedule, so that will be relatively easy to do.

Dick left without more fuss, but you only stepped away from your shadows when Duke's door was shut and locked. He doesn't want his family to know about you yet, but he knows for a fact now that they will tap his phone. Tim might even be brought into this and find you easily.

You hid a small laugh as Duke flopped onto his bed with a groan. He was so annoyed. Can't he cuddle his beautiful partner in peace? Maybe he should bring you to his secret condo just to have you to himself. After he checks for secret cameras, of course. You smiled warmly at him and asked softly,

"Do you want to go to my place? My parents are out on business trips, so they won't bother us."

Duke took your hands and kissed both of them. He spoke as he massaged your hands in his own,

"That would be for the best. I can show you my secret place."

You didn't live in Gotham or Bludhaven, so you would be 100% Bat free. You were content in Keystone City, having shadow travelled your whole way to Gotham to be with him. Speedsters only care about fighting each other instead of going after civilians for the most part, and the criminals only care about escaping Flash with whatever they tried to get away with.

You took his hand and teleported you both to your bedroom. You want to cuddle your boyfriend in peace. Duke took a moment to look around the room before you pulled him to your bed to cuddle. He will have to check for cameras next time. They know nothing right now, so there should be no cameras, right? He'll delete all your texts and leave every group chat when he gets home, but he can worry about that later.

He smiled warmly at you and kissed your forehead. He was, admittedly, surprised how long he has managed to keep you hidden from the family. It's been nearly one year, yet you have remained out of the family's close eye.

"I'm going to have to get a new phone."

Duke mumbled, resting his head on top of your shoulder while wrapping his arms around you. He's got bolder with you, but he's still nervous to introduce you to the family, and you were equally nervous. Who wouldn't be? You would be meeting the most influential and powerful family in Gotham history.

He was worried about what the others would do when they met you. The family is very intense, and he doesn't trust any of them to handle you properly. You weren't a hero. You had no fighting skills. Your sense of self-preservation is questionable, and your survival skills aren't the best. He was worried not always because of how dissimilar you are to the family, but also because of how scary the family can be to others. The matching scowls on Damian's and Jason's faces would be intimidating. You'd see straight through Brucie and Cass' and Tim's intelligent eyes would never stop analysing you. You'd feel self-conscious with every movement.

You lightly knocked on his forehead with a worried expression to bring him back to existence again,

"Stop overthinking, lightsaber."

He really hated that nickname, but you found it hilarious and adorable, so he let's you continue. He didn't appreciate having to learn every Star Wars fact to cover your lie about meeting at a Star Wars movie, but it turned into a date night to binge the movies after the first time you called him lightsaber, and the lie has held for so long that it stopped becoming an issue. Your friends and family believe you, and the Waynes may even believe it once you start rambling.

You kissed his forehead as an apology for knocking on it, and suddenly, he was back in the present once more. He noticed he was in your arms. You seemed to have migrated him to the bed and pulled him into your arms to cuddle.

He gave you a grateful smile and kissed your cheek. Cuddling sounds nice to him, and he has all night before his family will come home.

#duke thomas x reader #gn reader #x reader

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occasionalsnippets · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! I have an ask for your family dissonance au. It’s a scenario I’m curious about that you mentioned in one of your writings. What would happen if reader needed up in an alternate au that doesn’t have her in it dressed as Robin because she was filling in? (In like a Yandere way btw). Would she be able to hide, would she reveal herself? What would the Batfam she was originally with do when they notice she is gone??? And for drama sake what if Tim in the other au she falls into was in the time period he was banned from being Robin for his safety due to Redhood just appearing? What would Redhood do about another Robin?

I hope you have a wonderful day!

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream, @shirp-collector-of-fixations

---

When you aren't acting as Robin, everything is fair game.

If you don't land near a bat, you're not likely to reveal yourself or go to the manor until you do some information gathering. You play it careful, avoid getting caught on any cameras and head to a safe house. Disabling all the hidden mics and trackers is child's play and the safe house is stocked enough for you to get your bearings.

First things first, the internet. Doing a quick search reveals the current state of Gotham, its vigilantes and rogues. Pretty standard stuff. Your plan is mainly to just bunker down until you're found. There's nothing stopping you from doing so and sooner or later, your family will find you.

Those plans are ruined deep into the night by someone else breaking into the safe house.

Red Hood stumbles in, trailing blood all over the place. You're already categorizing his injuries by the time he drags himself over to the couch. Several bullets. Dislocated shoulder. Some kind of fear toxin. All things you can fix if you choose to get involved.

You might as well. Jason will live whether you do or don't but you would feel bad about leaving him. He's not all that there while you're treating him but he's definitely more lucid after getting the antidote.

"So," you hum as you dig bullets out of his flesh, "do you specifically want Batman to kill the Joker or do you want to kill him yourself or are you okay if anyone kills him."

He mutters something you can't hear. The blood loss is probably getting to him. By the time you're finished wrapping him up, his breathing has slowed and become steady. You pat his smooth helmet. Even if it's part of his brand, it kinda makes him look bald.

"Sleep tight, Hood."

By the time he wakes, you are gone and the Joker is dead.

I'm not really sure how to spin the rest of it in a yandere type of way since you don't stay long enough in the universe to really trigger anything.

Jason's helmet probably has some kind of recording thing though so there's evidence of you in the universe before you disappear. Plus in your quest to commit murder, you run into a couple other bats too. The bats in that universe might end up spiralling trying to find you though since a. you killed the Joker, b. you patched Jason up, c. you look like Tim, and d. you broke into a safe house too easily.

Maybe they'll find where you came from, maybe they won't, but regardless, they're sure to have questions.

---

On the other side of the coin, what is going on with your batfam?

They notice within probably 10 ish minutes or less that your trackers are down. In less than half an hour, their facts are confirmed. You’ve gone missing. Like any good detectives, information gathering comes first and conclusions drawn from evidence last. Despite that, they’re actually pretty frantic in their search for you.

Most resources are diverted solely to finding you, everything else is dealt with quickly and efficiently so they aren’t wasting time. Once they narrow things down to magic, fixing everything is actually quite easy. Thank goodness you’re not difficult to find. If it took any longer, you probably wouldn’t want to know the lengths they’d go to for you to be back home and safe.

—

There are three Robins in Titan’s Tower. One current Robin, one former Robin and one not-Robin. It is, in summary, a Spider-Man pointing meme situation.

There’s a lot of yelling and fighting and “you’re ruining my plan” and “well I wasn’t trying to” but it doesn’t end with any major injuries.

Tim and Jason definitely think it’s a time travel thing where future Tim came back to the past to fix something. You don’t have enough energy to correct them. Either way, you stall long enough for the big Bat and Nightwing to come crashing into Titan’s Tower for an early reveal.

You’re gone by the time they get back to the topic of your presence. Hidden away, waiting to return home.

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manias-wordcount · 2 years ago

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Wonder (L)

Kinktober 2023 Day Seventeen: Cockwarming

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞��𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You wonder…you wonder if they know.

With every deep breath you take, you feel it. You know. With every slight shift, you feel it. You know. With every movement he makes- whether it’s his hand playing with the hem of your skirt as you sit snuggly on his lap or him splaying his hand flat against your stomach in an almost possessive way- you feel it. You know. And L of course does too.

Yet here Matsuda is- standing right next to the two of you while he clicks away at a monitor and pulls up different files and video feeds from the evidence pile.

As if L’s cock wasn’t buried in your warm, wet pussy right now.

“...but if you look at the camera feed here, you’ll see that the cultists were congregating around-”

You can hear Matsuda talking. You can see his face lit up by the blue light of the screen, and his excitement grows as he talks about what he was able to deduce from the video footage. But all you can hear is just…just words. Same with Police Chief’s Yagami whispers to his team members. You’d like to think that they’re speaking about how weird it is that L only chooses to sit properly when you’re around. Or how they’re worried about your involvement with the Kira case since you’re a more public figure than L is. You’d like to think that. You’d like to. But…

“Hmmm, that is interesting Matsuda. Looks like you were useful after all.”

All you can focus on is him.

His deep hum right by your ear. The tickle of his breath as he breathes in and breathes out right beside you. And to top it off- the soft way he rolls and jerks his hips into you. Forcing you to shift around. Forcing you to adjust your position. Forcing you to feel it. And to not forget it. Not forget that out of all of the men in the room, there’s one who is completely unashamed to claim you as his own just for the sake of it. Just for his pleasure.

It makes your face warm up even more just thinking about it. What would the rest of the Japanese Task Force say? What would they do? Hell, what would Light Yagami say? You know L admires him. Sees him as a friend even. But you have enough sense to know what you’re doing right now isn’t going to fly over so easily just because he’s the great and powerful L. Eight wonder of the world. That being said, you probably won’t catch the same amount of flack as he will considering how everyone knows how much he likes to rope you into his stupid ideas and incredulous behavior.

Still, it gets you wondering about things. About just how things would go if someone were to find out that you’re in this room not to help with the case but to be some wet, messy whore for the world’s greatest detective while he’s busy at work. In a room full of people. In a room full of strangers. Who have shown you nothing but kindness and bravery and respect since you’ve met them.

It makes you wonder. And it makes you swallow nervously. Breathe heavily. Adjust your clothes ever so slightly. But worst of all? It makes you squeeze around it. Around him. Just like a wet, messy whore would. In a way that only brings little jolts- little moments of pleasure from all that happening beneath your skirt. It’s too risky to go any further. But you wonder if L knows that. You wonder if L even cares about that. You wonder. You wonder…

In fact, it makes you start to wonder so much and so hard that you don’t even realize the faces that you’re pulling. The flustered expressions that are hidden from everyone based on the way you’re facing. Everyone- except for Matsuda who manages to catch a glimpse of your expression in the reflection of one of the monitors. And before you can even blink- he’s turning around to face you and asking you a question.

“Are you okay? Did you see something?” He says- or at least, that’s what it seems like he said to you. You feel so guilty right now, you can barely listen to a word he says. It’s like an awful feeling is stirring up inside of you as you look into poor, sweet Mastuda’s face and take in his concern. But something is blocking that awful feeling from you having to open your mouth. It’s the same awful feeling that keeps you rooted to L’s lap and very, very quiet while he takes care of business. The same awful feeling that tells you to do the dirtiest of things like opening your legs a little wider or arching your back a little bit more. “Ryuzaki, is something wron-”

So you get the same amount of pleasure from him as he gets from you.

“Everything is fine, ” L answers for you, not even bothering to look back at Matsuda as he addresses him. Instead, you can feel L’s gaze on the side of your face. When you turn your head a little more in his direction, you’re met with the same passive expression on his face as always. But you know different. You know more than anyone else could get from him with one little glance. “Sometimes she gets a little worked up when she’s at work with me. But it’s fine .”

Worked up is an understatement right now. Because right now, your inner walls are fluttering around him. Right now, you’re growing a little too bold and reckless and you’re leaning into the subtle way he’s rolling you back onto his throbbing hard cock. And right now? You can’t even find it in yourself to care just how high L is bunching up the front of your skirt.

“She can take it. Right?”

Or the fact that Matsuda just drew a sharp breath at just a fraction of the sight of your parted thighs hiding the very thing that plugged your insides up all nice and full.

Because right now? You’re only thinking about the thick, creamy white ring you’re probably leaving around his cock- a mess that he might just make you clean up with your tongue later if he gets you alone for long enough. You’re only thinking about when was the last chance he got up and properly fucked you. And when that next chance will be. Oh, how you wonder.

“Right…Ryuzaki~ ”

Oh, how you wonder.

#L #L x reader #L Lawliet #L Lawliet x Reader #death note #death note x reader #death note fanfic #death note fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfic #fanfiction

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alexanderwales · 5 months ago

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The show Adolescence has four episodes, and each episode is a single continuous shot. This is crazy impressive, even with hidden cuts (which there supposedly weren't here), since these are hour-long episodes with a fair amount of camera movement and pretty intensive acting performances.

This is cool, but I kept asking myself "okay, why?"

Camera movements are supposed to be motivated. You cut at specific times for specific reasons. When you don't cut, there should be a reason. And when you're doing a full-episode oner, you're removing a lot of tools from the toolbox, like shot-reverse shot, Kuleshov effect, etc, so in theory there should be a really good reason.

And here ... it's a show about a 13-year-old boy accused of murder, and his friends, and family, and the detective leading the case. On the surface there's nothing obvious to me about why it's all a single shot. There's something in how it impacts emotionally in the first episode, but maybe not as much in the later episodes. There's something in how it changes your understanding of the geography of a place, the way that it makes you feel more "in" a place.

But I'm not entirely sure that it works consistently here. Sometimes it feels like a series of scenes that just happen to be happening with the camera not cutting away.

Maybe, because at least some of the show is about the internet and its impact on kids, the not cutting is supposed to make a point, to make you sit in this reality. Not cutting away as a way of contrasting the rapidfire context switching and cutting of your average TikTok. I would be willing to accept that interpretation.

(I went looking for some statement by the creators about why this choice was made, after forming my own opinions, and the only thing I could find was "for immersion", which ... is that a complaint people have? "I couldn't get immersed because of all these pesky cuts"? I could understand it as a cinema verite thing, but that's different from immersion, IMO.)

#movies #television #adolescence

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aliesbienish · 11 months ago

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A study of wolves

Paul Lahote x Reader

Part two (part one here)

“It’s lovely to meet you all, and thank you for being so welcoming.”

Paul’s mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. Here you were, the supposed perfect woman for him. And he never had wanted this. He had deemed imprinting as an anchor. Another knock to his freedom. Yet even the idea of walking away seemed to make him physically sick.

Paul caught Sam’s questioning gaze and gave a quick shake of his head. He may not be able to walk away but her certainly wasn’t ready to bare his soul to this virtual stranger, however her smile made him feel.

“So [y/n], what’s first for the study,” Emily questioned, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.

“The wolf population in the area isn’t well documented, so first thing will be exploring the area and trying to find signs of their territory. From there I can set up motion activated cameras to try to work population and observe behaviours,”

“Oh, we weren’t aware of cameras, how exactly do the work?” Sam almost sounded a little nervous.

“I’ll set them up facing areas that look like frequented wolf paths. They’ll then capture photos and videos whenever they detect significant motion, including during the evening. Obviously they’ll be a lot of other animals or even false shots due to the wind but hopefully we’ll see some gray wolves.”

“Will you let us know where they’ll be set up so we don’t disturb them?”

“Don’t stress too much, they’ll likely be far away from the village so I doubt you’ll come into contact with them. But I can definitely let you know the coordinates, and I’m sure one of you guys will be with me when I set them up otherwise I’ll never find my way back.”

“Coordinates would be great. You mentioned starting heading out of Monday, is that still the case?” Emily questioned.

“Absolutely. Sam agreed to be my guide for the day so all going well no rescue team will be needed,”

“Actually [y/n] I completely forgot that I have other work to do Monday, but Paul here has agreed to be your guide. Isn’t that right Paul?”

You looked up to the man beside you and caught him shaking his head at Sam. Noticing you caught him it was quickly changed to a nod paired with a guilty smile.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Monday came around quickly. Your first two days were spent unpacking your relatively few belongings and exploring the small reservation town. You’d need to head into the nearby town of Forks soon to stock on groceries as the shop on the reservation only held the basics. But for the mean time sandwiches and toast would at least keep you going.

This morning you were woken by your alarm just before sunrise. The air was fresh and getting out of bed was a mental battle, but you couldn’t help feel excited. Today was officially the first day of your adult life. What you had been working on throughout college, even throughout school.

Your backpack was packed full with equipment and layers of clothes. Enough fore mentioned sandwiches for both yourself and Paul were also stuffed in. Maps were also tucked in just in case your phone, and the two battery packs you were also bringing, didn’t hold out. Turns out you had an inner Girl Scout after all.

Your phone ticked over to 7:30am just as there was a rap on the cabin door. Opening it revealed Paul. The man was impressively pulling off the cargo pants and green polo combo; the official but sparingly used uniform of the Quilliete Tribe. Blinking back into focus, the smirk on Paul’s face was a clear indicator that you had been caught.

“Morning,” he laughed. “Here” he thrusted a coffee into your hand. You almost hugged him in appreciation, before remembering the man is practically a stranger. The cabin had been only equipped with the basics, no kettle or coffee machine in sight, another necessity to find in Forks or even further afield.

“My hero! Where did you even get this?” You sighed appreciatively.

“Sue’s cafe. One and only on the Res. It’s hidden behind the school and not on maps so I’m not surprised you haven’t found it yet,”

“Damn, can’t believe I missed it on my walk yesterday, went right passed the school and everything. I thought I was a blood hound when it comes to coffee, how disappointing”

“Calm down Lassie, im sure you were just having an off day. Ready to get this show on the road?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Paul’s truck was a comfortable ride as you headed out of town. You debated taking your car but after it’s cross country marathon you’d declared that it needed a little rest. That and you’d wanted to get used to the gravel roads before you chauffeured around attractive men on them. Plus then you wouldn’t a) get the pleasure of teasing Paul on his lack of manners when you paid for petrol on your work card later and b) see how his muscles flex every time he shifted gear. If the wolves fell through you’d happily spend six months studying the path of his tendons across his biceps.

Your first site wasn’t too far from La Push. An area of cliffs along the ocean was the last known sighting of a gray wolf in the area so it seemed like a good place to start your survey. You didn’t expect to cover too much ground, especially as you got the hang of it. Instead you wanted to be meticulous, examine the ground for wolf tracks, excrement and remains of prey.

You were going over the mental list of what to be on the look out for when the car pulled to a halt.

“Alright boss lady we’re here. You ready for this?”

“Absolutely.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Next chapter

Am I getting a little caught up in the idea of doing an ecological study like this…absolutely. So I had no real intention going in about making a long multi chapter story but that feels like where this is head. Is that something people are interested in, or do you prefer short and sweet??

#twilight x reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #paul imagine #paul lahote x reader #paul x reader #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote

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m-robinavitch · 3 months ago

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the interrogation.

Pairing: Sammy Bryant x Reader, SLIGHT Ben Sherman x Reader (blink and you miss it) Summary: Pulled out of bed in the middle of the night, you find yourself in an interrogation room with two cops. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, role play, sex as negotiation, drug mentions, general cop meanness

It was late, you were tired, and you were so fucking annoyed because you were pulled out of bed for this? Two fucking cops staring over at you in the poorly lit, freezing interrogation room asking you about something they knew you had nothing to do with.

“You don’t mind if we record this conversation, do you?” The younger of the two asked, Officer Sherman, you think. You just shrug, not meeting his eyes because they’re going to do what they want regardless of what you say. The officer presses record and the ancient fucking device whirs to life- the reels start to spin and where the fuck did they even find that relic?

“Now, we appreciate you coming down here so late.” The older of the two speaks- sitting back in the chair that’s slightly too small for him and throws his elbow over the backrest. They were both fucking attractive and knew it, but this one seems like he’s used to his charm getting him to where he needs.

“It didn’t seem like I had a choice, Officer Bryant.” You crossed your arms, titling your head while you answered his question because you were woken up abruptly for this. You were literally only clad in your nightgown that was too thin and a cardigan that barely provided any warmth.

“It’s Detective.” He spit back, rank was important to him, “and we like to give people the benefit of the doubt here. At first anyway.” You could feel the way his eyes trailed over you, the neckline of your nightgown was way too fucking low and he let his gaze wander over the skin that was uncovered and bare for him.

“What’s this about?” You asked, looking over to Officer Sherman now- maybe he’d like to get to the fucking point.

“Uh- um Wednesday night. Hospital pharmacy inventory shows that two vials of fentanyl were missing. Now those are high security clearance drugs- that were logged under your access code.” Sherman never handled interrogations before, but Bryant decided what better way to learn than diving in head first when the precinct was practically empty- he was here if the kid needed help.

“I never touched them.” You quickly said- too quickly. Fuck, you had to relax.

“You were the only nurse on that floor with that security clearance. And the pharmacy was suspiciously empty around that time- not even the cameras caught anyone.” Bryant spoke now, taking the papers from Sherman so he could look and make sure he was on the right track here.

“Someone must have used my code,” you shrugged again, not backing down now. “I’ve been there for 5 years- never had an issue before.”

“Codes just don’t go floating around on their own, sweetheart,” Oh? Sweetheart were you? Detective Bryant tosses the folder in front of you now, lets it slide across the cold metal table while he leans forward and lets his forearms rest along with them, “now of course my partner and I looked into you- last month your supervisor had you under review for some discrepancies in your medication counts.” You tensed, eyes darting between the men because they had you pinned now.

“Those discrepancies were corrected. Clerical error.” Your voice wavered slightly, but you held your head up as you anxiously bit your lip to help the nerves.

“Clerical errors don’t walk out the door in vials that are worth $2,000 on the street.” Detective Bryant cut off your words, the lies he could see forming behind those pretty little eyes- hidden behind thick lashes that he’d probably have a problem saying no to. Officer Sherman watched his superior work, watched how he took the lead now- how he had you awkwardly adjusting in your chair and trying to cover yourself up with that cardigan that did nothing to hide your figure.

“You think I’m fucking selling?”

“You tell me sweetheart,” the detective shrugged, picking up the folder again, thumbing through the papers and- “you’ve got the access, knowledge of the protocol, and the debt.” Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“E-everyone has debts.” You swallowed heavily.

“Not everyone lies about their whereabouts during a 15 minute blank period.” He was cold. Stone cold and harsh and the only thing you can focus on was the way his hazel eyes trailed over you again.

“I was in the break room. No cameras to see me.” Focus. Don’t let him get to you.

“Convenient.” Sherman speaks again, wetting his lips lightly with his tongue, stopping at the way you anxiously toyed at the necklace that dipped between your breasts, wedding ring catching the only overhead light of the now seemingly stuffy interrogation room.

“If I wanted to fucking steal, Detective Bryant, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to use my own login.” Frustrated- frustrated and nervous so you lash out like you usually do and-

“You know what’s interesting, we pulled the access codes from the staff entrance and- well you said you were in the break room but your badge was scanned at the east stairwell door around that time. Not the break room like you say.” Bryant’s eyes never left yours, titling his head only slightly but he leaned back again and nodding along with his own words like he’s made his mind up about you already.

“The door sticks, everyone knows that and the scanner catches wrong sometimes.” You were not going down for this.

“Except, we crossed checked that sweetheart,” Bryant stands now, “with the elevator scans?” He’s walking around the table to come in front of you- to sit on the table and block the light from you and- “no one else was on the floor when it happened. Just you. And we found some latex gloves in the stairwell trash, no prints but some traces of fentanyl residue.” You didn’t want to look up at him, you kept your eyes focused on that folder in front of him- trying to will whatever damning evidence they had against you to disappear.

“That doesn’t prove that it was mine.” You needed to stay calm. You needed to breathe. In. Out. They had nothing. Circumstantial at best.

“No- but it was your locker that had a box of gloves that don’t match the ones the hospital orders, the same brand and size from the stairwell trash.” Less circumstantial.

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say.” You were visibly tense, it was getting hotter in the room now and you shrugged off your cardigan to get some ventilation on your body.

“I want the truth sweetheart,” Detective Bryant came off the table now, kneeling in front of you so you’re almost eye level and you look behind him at Officer Sherman who had leaned in to watch his partner work. “You’re not a hardened criminal.” He shakes his head, almost condescendingly and his voice changes from gritted and angry to- soft and pleading. “You’re married, never been arrested, not even so much as a speeding ticket- maybe, maybe you made a choice. Maybe you were helping someone? Frankly I don’t care why you did it- I care about the kid that OD’d last night- who toxicology said had hospital grade fentanyl in his system- same brand that was missing from your hospital.” One of his large hands comes to rest on your thigh, thumb stroking along your skin while his words come out- almost rehearsed. “Officer Sherman- give me a minute with our friend here. She might be a bit nervous about having two cops in here.” Ben pauses, swallowing a bit but nods and stands to comply with his superior. Detective Bryant waits until the door shuts but he knows Ben is watching behind the glass. A few moments pass, his eyes don’t leave yours, thumb still stroking and his other hand rests on the edge of the table next to you- effectively caging you in.

“It’s not on me, I didn’t- I didn’t give anything to anyone.” Your lip quivered, shaking your head and looking down at the ring along your finger, running your thumb along the smooth metal to calm yourself and- he takes your hand.

“We’re past denial now sweetheart,” shaking his head, stooping his head down to make sure your eyes meet his, “what comes next is cooperation. Help us. And the DA might listen, but if you don’t tell me the truth then- you’re looking at felony charges. Theft, possession, intent to distribute, murder-” Wait- no. You didn’t- you didn’t murder anyone. You absolutely didn’t- no.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” you panic, standing and ripping away from him as you start to pace the small room. They can’t pin this on you. They can’t. This wasn’t even your idea and you just went along with what you were told and- “I want a lawyer.” You say- watching as Detective Bryant stands and nods, considering what you say. He hears Ben knock on the glass. Lawyered up? Get out of the room. But- Sammy has never been one to follow the rules anyway.

“That’s fine sweetheart, you get a lawyer but-” he comes around the table again, stopping in front of you- hand resting on the table and making you look up at him. “I can’t help you if you hide behind your lawyer. If I walk out that door then we’re done here.” Sammy didn’t move, Ben wants to knock again because if Sammy doesn’t leave then they’re fucked. Lawyer? Leave. That’s the way it goes. But you were biting your lip and look up at him and-

“Help me. Please detective I- I don’t want to go to jail.” You begged, putting your hands on his chest and looking up at him like he would be your savior. “I’ll do anything. Please I can’t- I’ll lose my job if this gets out. My husband will find out and- my reputation. I can’t have this happen to me.” You could convince him. You could convince the detective to let you off if you just gave them all the information they asked and even the next drop off location and time. But you couldn’t go down for this.

“You have to talk to the DA, there will most likely be a trial and-”

“No!” You cut him off, pushing forward and your faces are inches apart, “please- no I’ll- I’ll tell you everything. I’ll do anything Detective Bryant- anything if you make this go away.” He swallows- hard. From this angle he can see down your nightgown and- fuck. You see the way he looks at you, the way he flushes when his eyes drop down your neck and maybe you could- maybe there’s a way out of this? Your hands slowly drag themselves down his chest, not breaking eye contact and see his face flush again.

“I- I can’t promise that-” his focus breaks, his mouth waters because you’re fucking gorgeous and your hands stop at his belt now, “I can’t promise that it’ll go away for you. Th-there’s, um, a process and- and-” Fuck. Sammy stops, eyes closing as you lean up to kiss his jaw. He- he can’t do this. He can’t let you off because you’re kissing him, sighing against his skin with little nips and your small hands work at his belt. Fuck- was Ben seeing this? He knew he was, he can feel his partner’s gaze from behind the glass and-

“It’ll feel good Detective Bryant,” you whisper, dragging his zipper down and smiling to yourself when you feel how hard he is. “I’ll make you feel so good.” Sammy had to close his eyes, bite his fucking lip from moaning out loud because your hands are pulling his shirt from it’s tucked in position and slipping into the waistband of his boxers and- fuck your hands are soft. He lets out a choked off breath- hand coming down the grip the edge of the table because it feels so fucking good. The way your fingers haven’t even done much other than swipe your thumb along the slit, collecting the bit of dripping pre-cum there and- he remembers where he is. Remembers who he is and steps back- grabbing your wrist now and you’re fucking smirking at him.

“I can’t- that’s not, this isn’t-” he’s a good cop, he can’t let himself get lost in a pretty girl with a wicked smile who’s fucking licking her lips now and dropping to her knees in front of him. He takes a few steps back, coming to bump into the table and you’re fucking crawling to him now with a devilish smile- fucking hell he can’t breathe. You pull his pants down to his knees and-

“Do you want me to stop Detective Bryant?” You whisper again, looking up at him through thick lashes as you toy with the fabric at his thigh. No. No he didn’t want you to fucking stop. Your mouth looked fucking heavenly and you were all but begging and- he shakes his head, no. You drag his boxers down his thigh, moaning at the way his cock springs up to slap against his stomach and- oh he was big. His cock was big and thick and leaking already and you could tell he needed a warm mouth to cum in. Well- might as well serve him while he protects. You shuffle a bit closer, knees coming to rest alongside his feet and you push his buttoned shirt up, giving you view and access to his cock and you give it a slow, soft lick- starting from the base and coming to the tip.

“Oh fuck me-” He groans, gripping the table with both hands so he doesn’t get the urge to tug you by your hair and use it to hold you while he fucks your mouth. No. No he fucking needs to relax. But it’s so hard to relax when after a few experimental licks, you swirl your tongue around the tip and over the slit to taste what has collected, moaning at the act and smiling when his breathing gets harder. Again, taking the tip between your lips, swirling your tongue and just barely sucking the tip this time as you drag your nails down his shaking thighs. Deeper, just to mid shaft you suck, letting your tongue rest flat along the bottom of him while he’s in your mouth and his groans just make you more eager- that you’ve got him now. Sammy whines when you stop, when your mouth is no longer enveloping his cock but now it’s your hand- slowly dragging up and down his cock while you kiss and suck marks along his thighs. Your touch is so much better than his own, hands warm and small- gentle strokes of him while murmuring praise against his thigh about how big he is, how you’ve never had someone so big in your mouth, how good he tastes and that- you want him to cum in your mouth. That one gets him- makes him see stars and he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your fist because he feels an embarrassingly quick orgasm swelling in his gut. Fuck he can’t cum too fast- but your lips are around him again. You take him deeper into your mouth and your nose is against his stomach, hands coming to grab Sammy by the backs of his thighs to keep him there while you swallow around him and he lets out a string of moans and curses when he empties his load down your throat. He’s breathing hard, panting and slumped against the table but you’re smiling, wiping your mouth and he grabs you by your arm to pull you up into him, kissing you deeply- tongue shoved between your lips so he can taste himself mixed with you, nothing moaning into each other.

Fuck- he needs to be inside you but he has to wait. Sammy picks you up to sit on the table, shoving himself to stand between your open legs and smiles when you gasp against his lips. He can feel how wet you are, you came to the fucking precinct with no panties on and he’s dying right now- praying he gets hard again soon so he can bury himself deep inside your wet pussy and fuck you into this table. But for now, he’ll settle for dragging his hands along your body, palming at your breasts that are fucking threatening to spill over out this damn nightgown that is practically sheer. He drags it down, lets your breast spill out and catches it with his mouth. Your chest heaves into his mouth, hand coming up to thread into his hair now and tug at his auburn curls so you can get him to suck or bite or something. Fuck he’s going to leave marks, marks you can’t hide and-

“You gonna let me fuck you?” He mumbles, grinding himself into your bare cunt- slowly feeling his cock start to stir again but not quite ready to shove inside you just yet. His fingers will do. His fingers that glint in the light from the wedding ring on his finger and slowly push inside you. Thick. So fucking thick and deliciously perfect- dragging across your walls to where you gasp in his ear, nodding because you’re definitely letting him fuck you. Even if you weren’t staring down the barrel of jail time you’d let him fuck you. He drags his fingers slowly inside you, letting you feel every ridge and his fucking ring while he pumps them slightly faster now as he takes your nipple into his mouth- feeling you clench around his fingers while his thumb starts to circle your clit and- “you get this wet from sucking me off sweetheart?”

“Y-yes,” you nod weakly, grinding into his hand now because you feel that swell of ecstasy begin its way through your body- feel the heat dance along your nerves. You’re close. How are you so fucking close already?

“Can my partner watch, sweetheart?” Fuck you almost forgot he was behind the glass. You turn back, obviously not able to see him but you smirk, turning back to the detective in front of you who’s fingers are shoved so fucking far inside you and working fast now you gasp a choked off ‘yes’. Sammy smiles, looking in front of him to the mirror and he knows Ben wants to see your face- so he pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt and kisses your whining lips while he picks you up to move around the other side of the table now. Half hard, achingly so but he knows this will get him ready to fuck you- kneeling in front of you and dragging the other side of your nightgown down so you’re fully revealed to Ben. “Can I taste you?” Sammy is on his knees, kissing your ankle and nipping along the skin as he trails his lips up your leg. You whine a pathetic little ‘please’ to him as he sucks marks against your inner thighs- his curls tickling the sensitive skin there while shoving his shoulders under your knees and pushing the hem of your dress to bunch up around your waist. “So fucking eager- does your husband even fuck you enough?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond- just drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, circling around once before dipping back down to start over.

“Fuck!” You scream and clenching your thighs around his head while one hand grips the edge of the table, the other finding solace in the curls at the top of his head- trying to be gentle but his tongue feels so fucking good. And he moans when he tastes you- moans into your wet cunt and the vibrations have you pull him by his hair into you deeper so you can grind for more friction. It’s almost not enough. You want him inside you so bad, you want him to fuck you hard into this fucking table and want his partner to watch. But his tongue slowly circles your clit and he moans again before laving at your entrance and pushing between your folds to settle as deep as he could inside your walls. Oh. Oh fuck. The hand that wasn’t gripping his hair for dear life reaches to grab his that’s at your thigh- pulling it to settle on your breast and give some sensation to help your orgasm along. The cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of the marks he had left, this thumb toying with your nipple while he tongue fucks your orgasm from you. It’s wet, hot, and forceful when it slams into your body all at once like a train. You bite your lip, tasting blood to stop yourself from crying out his name when his tongue doesn’t stop but keeps slowly licking into you- helping you ride out your orgasm.

“You okay?” He stands, kissing your neck and collarbone and he’s hard enough now that he can drag the tip of his now fully hard cock along your wet sensitive folds- smirking to himself because you can’t reply with a coherent response but you grab his hip to hold him still against your entrance to teasingly angle your hips back and forth so the tip can just notch at your entrance over and over again.

“Fuck me Detective- now.” You’re breathless, but your hold on his hip doesn’t waver- you’re almost pulling him into you and your mouth falls open in a silent cry because his cock is thick and heavy and pushes into your pussy with resistance from just his fucking size no matter how wet you were. Fuck it was perfect, so deliciously perfect that you can’t even remember your fucking name- only know the feeling of him teasing back and forth into your heat with slow little thrusts. You need to enjoy this- it may be the last time you get to have sex in a while because he can’t promise you won’t actually do time but if the last orgasm was anything to go off of then you’ll be seeing stars soon enough. He’s fully seated in you, throbbing and pulsing inside you but he gives himself a moment to kiss your soft lips- licking his way into your mouth to swirl his tongue around yours while pulling out so unfairly slow. Slow- that you can feel every vein and even the ridge where the tip meets his shaft and he’s almost pulling out of you that when you go to protest he slam back inside you so forcefully it has the table drag an inch or two forward from it.

“This what you needed? To be fucked hard?” He groans in your ear, burying his face in your neck and wills himself to not cum too fast again. “You would’ve confessed anyway huh? Didn’t need my cock to convince you?” The only sound inside the room was the soft drag of the table along the floor, the slap of Sammy’s hips into your own, and your breaths mixing together- panting and shaking moans because he’s fucking you withing an inch of your sanity and- the glass. The mirror where you watch how hard he’s pounding into your tight pussy- behind that mirror Officer Sherman is watching you. Watching you get split open by his partner's cock and- you know you can’t see him but you like to think you’re making eye contact with him, smiling so he can see how good this feels. Smiling at yourself really- dragging your nose along Sammy’s neck with your lips and tongue closely followed behind. With the remnants of your last orgasm still swimming along in your mind- you feel another start to claw its way back up your spine.

“I’m- fuck, I’m gonna cum again,” you whine, silently begging him to give you another orgasm before you start thinking clearly about how bad this is. How bad fucking a detective in the interrogation room is- cutting yourself a deal and using sex as a leverage for your own survival. You try to tell yourself that this is bad, clinging onto him tighter and your ring stares at you- reminding you that your bed is shared. That you greet someone everyday- kiss them every morning and every night. This is so bad. But he hitches your leg higher above his hip, letting it rest in his arm while he shoves himself deeper. “D-don’t stop.” You were close- and a violent orgasm is exactly what you need to stop your mind from going through just how bad this was.

“He definitely doesn’t fuck you enough,” Sammy spits out, eagerly hammering into you and loving the way each thrust has you gasping out while you clench around him. Oh yeah- you’re fucking close. “Been neglected sweetheart? That why you’re so happy to confess? Need rewarding?” He sounds almost condescending, gritting his teeth to concentrate on his words but not letting his pace falter. Each thrust shoves himself deeper- pushing up to force your lungs out the way to make room for his cock. He sounds so mean and rough but his kiss was loving- melting his lips with yours, letting his tongue trail into your mouth and you just let him. You’re too fucked out to do little more than moan and whimper. Your orgasm is fast approaching and you have just enough sense to pull away from the kiss to stare back into the mirror as you cum. Hard. Sickeningly hard that it’s almost devastating and if Sammy wasn’t in front of you then you’d slide off this fucking table and melt into the a puddle into the floor. Your pussy spasms and clenches around him, milking his cock for a few more thrusts before you give his curls a firm tug to crash your lips into his. That was it. That was the literal pull he needed before he pumps once more- cumming hard and emptying himself as deep as he can go inside you. Shared panting, mouths agape and not even able to remember how to kiss but you feel him throb inside you as he finishes cumming so hard he’s sure he had a stroke at that last moment.

“Good?” Sammy asks, pressing his forehead into yours after mouthing mindlessly at your lips and jaw. He’s always concerned with making you feel good- even if he can feel how wet he’s made you or how hard you’ve dug your nails into him- Sammy needs to hear it. He doesn’t like when you just nod- no he wants words.

“Mhm,” catching your breath, wincing when he sets your leg down on the cold table under you, “it’s always good.” You smile up at him, capturing his lips in yet another bruising kiss. You blush now- no longer too horny to care about your state as you adjust your nightgown back over your chest and push the fabric back over your legs once Sammy pulls himself out of you. Fuck- he’s going to be dripping out of your the entire way home. He doesn’t move to grab your forgotten cardigan from the chair- shrugging off his suit jacket to wrap around your shoulders so give you a moment of modesty. “Think Ben is still alive back there or?” You giggle after Sammy tucks his shirt back into his pants, looking back to the mirror when he walks over to the intercom and presses the speaker button.

“You good man?” Sammy asks, smiling back at you when a weak ‘y-yeah’ follows heavy breaths from the speaker- poor Ben. Always dragged into whatever stupid idea Sammy had. But it was an idea that Sammy had tossed around a while ago and how can you deny your husband on his birthday? Because what man doesn’t like the way his wife is lusted after- watching the way Ben has trailed his eyes up and down your body a time or two gave him the idea. Now he didn’t want you to be touched by someone else- no Sammy would break their jaw. But knowing Ben had his hand wrapped around his own cock while watching Sammy fuck you? That was the best present ever. “He’ll be fine.” Sammy came back to you, cupping your face in his large hands while you whispered a soft ‘happy birthday’ to him. He was lucky most of the precinct had gone home already- a few night shift officers were at their desks but typing away on a report or two and the interrogation room was far enough away that he was sure no one would hear you or pay attention to you really.

”Where the fuck did you even find that thing?” You laugh when Sammy reaches over you to turn off the recorder- taking the tape out of the deck and bopping you on the nose with it lightly before shoving it in his back pocket. Definitely one to listen to later.

“Sherman found it in the basement,” Sammy says while you help him with his belt, fixing the metal police badge to clip on straight and adjusting his tie- giving it a yank to draw him in closer to you for another kiss.

“Give him the tape- I think he earned it.” You smile against Sammy's lips when you feel him pout. Maybe it was a sick ‘thank you’ from you- for watching your husband’s back all the time. Making sure he comes back home to you in one piece. You reach in Sammy’s back pocket to retrieve the tape and hold it up to the glass for Ben to see.

“Come get it before I change my mind-” your husband grumbles against your kiss, hearing the door open as Ben rushes in to grab the tape from your hand while you toss him a wink. “Go get the car Sherman.” You smack Sammy for being mean- he gets a little possessive, he’s been sated and fucked and can think properly and doesn’t want his partner seeing his wife with barely anything on anymore. “Lemme get you a sweatshirt and I’ll take you back home okay baby?” There was no way he was walking you out this precinct covered in marks from his lips and your nightgown so low your tits threaten to spill out with every move you make- his favorite one that you wear to bed, the one that doesn’t ever stay on the entire night. The fucking things you do for your husband- but how do you say no to charming hazel eyes and a sweet dimple when he smiles like he knows he’s devilishly handsome?

Everyone thank Ty @velvetmel0n for listening to my random thoughts and sometimes idiot checking my fics for me

#my random typings #sammy bryant #sammy bryant x reader #sammy bryant fic #southland #sammy bryant x you

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moonlight-dream01 · 2 months ago

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How the bat fam find out

The bat family is the first of the two families to find out about Icarus and Achilles, and its not thanks to their detective brains. As the first few weeks with the twins officially pass Jon and Damian have a new routine set up already.

Whoever wakes up first gives the twins their first bottles and then works on breakfast. Once the other is awake they take over the child caring role. Then Jon goes and gets ready for his civilian job before flying from Gotham to Metropolis. (Damian and Jon bought a mansion close enough to wayne manor that the cave systems could connect to the batcave since Damian is their assigned doctor) Afterwards Damian spends the day caring for Icarus and Achilles, and once Jon is home in the evening he is solely responsible for the child caring and cooking. Then once nightfall arrives they all go to sleep, unless Damian is needed. Then he goes over to the batcave to work on whatever injuries have been sustained.

Through it all not once does Damian consider informing his family of the twins, it's not that he doesn't want to, it's that he forgot they don't know of their existence, and that the family never asks. Despite Jon taking the nightshift in child caring Damian still keeps their nurseries baby monitor camera app on at all times when he's not home in case of an emergency. It's one of these emergencies that leads to his family finding out about the twins.

It had been a semi peaceful night with very minore injuries, Jason being the only one who would require more thorough assistance, nothing a few stitches couldn't fix. And while Damian knew Alfred could handle it easily he didn't want the man to carry on that burden by himself, thus he was there tonight to stitch Jason up. It was calm in the bat cave for once, everyone doing what they needed to do or just relaxing.

Damian was just about done with the stitches when he received a text from Jon. It simply stated 'natural disaster emergency, Solarflare is needed, the twins are asleep will be back as soon as I can, I love you'. Damian replied an affirmative and that he loved him too, checked on the still asleep twins through the camera app, and turned back quickly to his family. He simply stated "Jon is needed out as Solarflare and Achilles and Icarus cannot be left home alone, thus I must leave early tonight." Everyone stared at him in confusion, before assuming he was talking about some new pets he and Jon might have recently acquired. It was Dick who questioned him first, "Damian I didn't know you and Jon got some new pets, what species are they?" To which Damian stared at him in mild confusion and concern before simply replying "Richard, human infants aren't animals, even if they act like them at times."

Total silence. All that could be heard in the cave was the bats screeching above them and Tim choking on and dropping the energy drink he'd been chugging. Every single one of the bats and birds stared at Damian like he'd grown a second head before Bruce finally spoke up, sounding a bit choked, "human infants?" "Indeed, mother stated that the twins were a wedding gift to Jon and I, it has been a hard few weeks adjusting to them but it has been worth it," was the reply Damian gave, "now I must go, they shouldn't be left alone even if they are asleep in their cribs, goodbye."

With that the rest of them broke out of their stupor. Before he could fully walk out everyone started shouting out questions, "Wait! What do you mean wedding gifts???" "Did Talia kidnap some children for you?" "How old are they?" "You and Jon have children?" "Can you bring them here so we can meet them?", it was Stephanie who shouted that last question, louder then all the others looking at Damian imploringly. Seeing Damian pause she smirked before continuing, "you've kept them hidden from us so it's only fair that you introduce then to us." "I haven't kept them hidden from you, they simply never came up in conversation," was the reply she got. Steph pouted and just as she went to open her mouth to speak Damian interrupted her, "while I am unwilling to bring them here you all may quietly accompany me to check up on them, and once thats done you may ask your questions." Everyone immediately stood up and went to follow Damian through the tunnel that connected the two houses. They were all excited and mildly concerned to meet the two new additions to the family.

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#damian wayne #jonathon kent #jondami #jon and damian #jonathan samuel kent #damian wayne al ghul #supersons #damijon

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neptuneiris · 2 years ago

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Behind the Scenes (02/05)

Behind the Revelation

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: after running away for second time, the past returns and you force yourself to remember as Aemond demands explanations.

word counter: 9.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

warnings: language, angst, discussion, mention of abortion, aemond being a dick.

Aemond remembers perfectly well the moment you disappeared from his life without warning.

It was precisely after his manager and all his team left your apartment once everything was clear and somehow "solved", on the same day you let him know that you were expecting his child.

He stayed a moment longer with you, comforting you and wanting to be there for you, to make you understand that you were not alone and that despite everything, he would be there supporting you and would not leave your side, ever.

But unfortunately he never knew what was really tormenting your mind. He didn't realize how hurt you were when you both made the decision.

And he didn't realize at the time what an idiot he was to you and the bad decisions he made. He only realized after you left, without warning and without a trace, as if you never existed in his life.

Stress, frustration, worry and anguish clung to him, thinking he would go mad, and he quickly turned to Criston and his entire team for help.

At first, worry gripped him. He thought something bad had happened to you when messages didn't reach you and when you called, your number was forwarded straight to the mailbox.

He asked your makeup partners about you, but none of them had any relevant information. They had only seen you the same day you told him the news.

Your disappearance, however, was not convenient for Criston, who needed to know your condition, to know about the baby.

However, when you were reported missing to the police, it was only a matter of time before they discovered that you had, in fact, run away.

He learned that you had spoken to the owner of your apartment to inform him that you would no longer be living there and also that you had quit your job. You never revealed your reasons, you simply handed in your resignation and left.

As the pieces fell into place, Aemond realized that he could not ignore reality. Your expression, described by everyone who had seen you one last time, was the same: deep circles under your eyes, a face marked by fatigue, eyes swollen with tears and sadness.

And Aemond, try as he might, could not accept it.

After you left, he pushed his entire team to find some clue to your whereabouts. He used all the resources his celebrity status afforded him, keeping a small police back-up, hiring private detectives and even trying to locate your parents, but it was all to no avail.

You simply vanished along with his child in your womb.

And Aemond could do little more than immerse himself in his thoughts, in despair and worry as he found nothing of you.

Days turned into weeks and weeks into months, while Aemond persisted in his search without success. In those moments he didn't care about his work, he only fulfilled the filming time of some projects, avoiding interviews, red carpets and any other public activity.

Until it was only a matter of time before in the midst of his misery, he was forced to return to the recording studios and face the cameras, continue with his work, but all the time his mind was focused on you.

Between takes and script lines, you were always on his mind and what you had once been.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to touch you and hold you tight against him, not wanting to let you go, to apologize for his behavior and beg you not to leave him, regretting over and over again that he had kept you hidden, that he had allowed so much of his work to affect you both.

And every time someone did his makeup and fixed his wardrobe, he couldn't stop thinking about you, wishing, longing for it to be you and no one else.

His one nights were only worse, he couldn't sleep and got caught in a whirlwind of his own mind, questioning himself over and over again:

Why did you run away?

He knows his behavior wasn't the best but why? Why not give him an explanation?

He could only continue to stare at a spot on his ceiling while guilt and remorse invaded him, recognizing his own mistakes, the decision he made and the one he convinced you too carry out, a selfish decision for his own benefit that now takes its toll on him.

And there in the restlessness of his luxurious apartment on Visenya Hill, Aemond is alone with his thoughts.

And he couldn't help but imagine you in scenarios you never shared, of both of you holding a little person you both created in your most intimate moments, probably with his characteristics or yours as well.

But every time he imagined it, he could see a little boy or girl with silver hair and blue eyes, making him smile softly with sadness and with his eye full of tears.

But he didn't even know if his child was still in your womb or if you had made the decision you refused to make at first. And he couldn't help but wonder, among the same questions that always torment his mind:

Where are you?

Are you all right?

Why did you run away?

Did you decide to have the baby?

Did you find support somewhere?

He just didn't know and that frustrated him too much, not knowing if you were even okay, staying in uncertainty and worry, longing to find you, to see you and know what happened.

And those same questions haunt his mind when he sees you again after almost two years. The face he desperately searched for so long is finally there, a few steps away from him, watching him with the same surprise and disbelief he feels, unable to assimilate reality.

But when you decide to escape for the second time, it is as if he receives a blow to the stomach, stripping him of all the air in his lungs.

He is paralyzed, unable to move, as he faces the reality that you are finally there, in front of him, after almost two years of searching without success.

His heart beats with overwhelming intensity and a persistent echo of confusion and surprise resounds in his mind. It is a moment when reality and emotions intertwine in a way that is almost unbearable for him.

Why did you run away?

I'm sorry!

I miss you!

But he remains motionless, as his brain tries to process the wave of emotions that threaten to drown him.

But not just from seeing you again, but from remembering every moment he shared with you, every laugh, every caress, every one night they spent together, all overwhelming him.

The need to understand, to discover the truth, engulfs him completely. And without hesitation, an inner voice screams in his head, "Move, you idiot!"

Everything seemed to crumble around him, with questions echoing back into his mind, unanswered questions. And thanks to that, a spark ignites, pulling him out of his paralysis: despair.

And that is the call to action that drives you to react immediately, determined not to let you escape again.

Every step he takes is charged with urgency, an urgency to get answers, to know what happened with a tight lump in his throat, especially at the thought of the baby.

Everything at that moment seems overwhelming, but his desire to know, or rather his need to understand your escape and to know what happened to his child, eclipses all other considerations, filling him with worry and longing.

The thought of that little being that would have been a fusion of the two of them envelops him in desperate confusion.

The vision of a part of him and you floating in the air like a faded dream haunts his mind, asking himself questions about whether you decided to go through with the pregnancy or not.

Aemond advances through the corridors of the studio with a totally worried look on his face, desperately looking everywhere to find you. And in the distance, he spots your running figure and instantly rushes after you, determined not to let you out of his sight.

You both plunge into a busy atmosphere, where you hear the subtle sound of indicator lights and the distant hum of electronic equipment.

And there you were, trying to run away from it all, with your trembling figure, having an emotional breakdown and tears streaming down your cheeks, while Aemond with desperation in his eyes, tries to catch up with you.

"Y/N, wait!"

His voice, piercing and close, only manages to increase your anxiety. You try to move away from him, desperate to evade him, willing him to lose sight of you while you don't stop.

"Wait!" he shouts in desperation, pleading.

But you can't. You don't want to and you can't face this. Not now. Not when you thought you'd never see him again.

Aemond rushes towards you, reaching for you, grabbing your arm tightly and stopping your steps, scaring you. He turns your body towards him, watching you with desperation and need, instantly catching the tears and suffering on your face.

"No!" you exclaim with concern, trying to free yourself, "No, please, let me go!"

"Y/N—" he begins to say, confused and worried, breathing agitatedly.

"Let go of me, Aemond!" you demand.

You manage to wriggle free of his grip, straining to keep your distance from each other, avoiding any contact, but he grabs your arm again, stopping you and showing irritation.

"Can't you wait a fucking minute!?" he hisses at you, annoyed, though the pain lingers in his gaze, "How do you expect me to let you go like this!? After everything that happened—

"I don't want to talk to you!" you sentence, the pain palpable in every word.

"Y/N, please," he begs you, his voice taking on a sad melody.

Her eyes search yours, desperately seeking understanding in the midst of the emotional storm you both face.

Your chest pounds with a mixture of pain and confusion, where again you try to break free from his grip, but he gives your arm a firmer grip, preventing you from pulling away, firm and resistant to your efforts.

"I told you to let me go!" you shout angrily, crying.

"Why do you keep running away!?" he demands to know, his voice annoyed, full of confusion and pain, "We need to talk and you know it! I need to understand!"

You remain silent, your gaze fixed on his face and your eyes filled with tears, as Aemond feels all his emotions threatening to boil over.

"What happened?" he demands to know, hurt, without letting go, looking for an answer in your gaze, "Where did you go?"

Again you remain silent, feeling the lump in your throat, as the tension between the two of you is palpable and the held breath of both of you is in anticipation, waiting.

"Why did you disappear?"

He insists, completely frustrated and insistent.

"I've been looking for you all this time and I could never find you. I never knew who to ask where you were or where to try to find you."

Nothing.

You say absolutely nothing.

Aemond's hand trembles slightly as he gently releases you from one of your arms, but his determination and insistence did not waver.

"Talk to me, please," he pleads, "I need to know."

And the whole moment only becomes more intense when he mentions your son.

"W-what… what happened to our child?"

A silent pain crosses your face, but your lips remain sealed, trembling slightly. Frustration increased in Aemond's chest as he receives no response from you and it also makes his anger increase.

"What happened to him, Y/N?" he snaps, his patience reaching its limit.

And you, still trembling from all this, find yourself caught in the vortex of it all, your eyes reddened, your gaze hard and hurt, where you couldn't find the courage to answer the questions accusing you.

And Aemond, for his part, let the anger and resentment flow like a raging tide against you.

"How could you just walk away? Disappear without a word?" he says, his voice carrying with it the weight of betrayal he feels, "I was willing to help you. I-I thought we could get through this together, but you just took off, left me and vanished as if you never existed."

His every word echoes around you, the accusation hangs heavy in the air, and you, feeling the courage flowing through your veins, decide to answer him with the same intensity.

"Help me?" you repeat, earnest and hurt, "Oh, right, you mean that 'help' you were planning to offer by not acknowledging your own child publicly and legally so as not to ruin your career?"

The words leave your lips with a cutting tone, like a sharp blade aimed straight at his heart, where surprise flashes all over Aemond's face, as if that revelation had come as an unexpected blow, even though he already knew.

And before he can articulate a response, you continue, your voice echoing with pain, annoyance and defiance.

"I left so I wouldn't ruin your career, whether I had the baby or not. Because if I had an abortion, eventually the media would know, right?" you inquire regretfully, "But that's not exactly why I left," you clarify, "What other choice did I have if I decided to have it? Hide with my child until you decided the time was right? Live in the shadows while you enjoyed the spotlight?"

The recording set, even with its cinematic sounds and the frenetic activity of those working on it, now resonates with the clash of arguments and emotional charge unleashed between him and you.

And he, still processing the raw truth being revealed to him, tries to defend himself, but you don't give him a chance.

"I stand by my decisions, Aemond. I wasn't going to be a prisoner to anyone's expectations, even if it was you," you spit, your gaze still pained but defiant. "You weren't going to acknowledge your child for the sake of your career, at least not in his early years or who knows after how long. And what was the benefit if you did it later? We would finally see the light after all we would have gone through with your manager and your whole team to keep saving your reputation?"

Your words float in the air, creating a dense silence that fills the space between the two of you.

Despite the raw, exposed emotional wounds, Aemond desperately searches for words that might calm the intensity of the moment somewhat. However, neither you nor he can deny the truth, as it becomes clear that you are right.

But still, with a lump in his throat, he tries to defend himself with a vulnerability you haven't seen in him in a long time, exactly since you let him know of your pregnancy.

"I didn't mean to… I-I… I didn't know how to handle it," he mumbles, his expression reflecting confusion and remorse.

You sniffle and let a couple more tears fall down your cheeks, your eyes full of pain but also determination.

"That's the thing. You always thought about your career, your image, but what about us?" you ask him in your broken voice, "What truly mattered most?"

The question echoes between the two of you, leaving Aemond without a convincing answer.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, looking at you with regret, "I shouldn't have done that, I know," he tells you honestly, "I shouldn't have let Criston and the others interfere too much. But…" he sighs, "I-it wasn't easy for me."

And you, undeterred, feel disbelief wash over you and reply bitterly.

"It wasn't easy for you?" you repeat, "And what about me?" you inquire, "Did you ever think about what it would be like to put yourself in my shoes?"

"Y/N—

"You only thought about yourself, just like everyone else, while I also had to think about everyone else but me," you say hurt, "And I didn't want to cause you any more trouble. I had to have, raise and care for my son all by myself."

The revelation hits Aemond like a bolt of lightning, his eyes widen in shock and disbelief, staring at you in disbelief.

"A son?" he repeats in a whisper, taking it in.

You stare at him for a moment, not understanding, but after you realize that in all this time you have told him nothing concrete about your son, you see the realization all over his gaze, that regret and longing.

You let out a long breath as you look away from him for a moment and bring one of your hands to wipe away your tears, feeling that sharp pain in your chest.

While Aemond, he really couldn't say a single word that could ease the pain he has caused you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible, "I was selfish, I didn't think correctly."

"No, because you only thought of yourself and I faced everything alone. I didn't want to cause you trouble or be a burden, I decided it was better not to drag you into this for your career, so as not to affect your life, so I decided to leave. And I don't want to affect you now either."

You say as you begin to back away and Aemond, feeling the ground crumble beneath him, again stops you.

"Y/N, please, we can fix this, just… don't leave, not again," he pleads with you, his gaze full of anguish as he urges you to stay.

"There is nothing to fix," you tell him with hopelessness in your voice, completely broken, "Your life remains the same and my only priority is my son."

"He's my son too!" he exclaims, frustration and annoyance creeping into his voice. "You think I don't want to know him, take care of him and do the right thing? Of course I do!"

He, glassy-eyed, tries to make you understand by looking at your face, but you can't.

You can't and you don't want to.

"But, Aemond, it's not just that," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Your career, your life, it's still the same. And I don't want my son to live under the gaze of the entire press, making speculations about you and me. Nor do I want you to feel obligated to be a part of his life out of guilt."

He, feeling helpless, tries to hug you, but you pull away, but he again with his worried look full of determination, holds you again.

"No Y/N, I swear it's not like that, I promise," he clarifies to you, sad, "And this is not only for our son, but also for you. I want to be a part of your life, his life."

The dilemma hung in the air, the tension between the two of you forming an invisible barrier. And you, with tear-filled eyes, know this is not possible.

"I can't," you whisper to him in your broken voice.

And despite this, he doesn't give up, rather he persists with words laden with pain and determination.

"I know I made mistakes and that I failed you, but I'm not going to let this go and you must know that."

His words send a shiver down your spine and you feel the urge to scream at him to leave you alone, that everything is already done, that he can't just come and change something that is already built between you and your son.

And before you can respond, a production assistant rushes over.

You understand that you made the mistake of running away and not informing him absolutely nothing about what happened with you and his son.

But at least you're right about one thing now: you don't want your son to become the next entertainment in magazines and all the media, in case Aemond decides to publicly acknowledge him just to make amends.

"Mr. Targaryen, we need you to finalize your makeup and wardrobe. The producer is upset because the scenes are about to shoot," the concerned man announces, interrupting the intensity of the moment.

Aemond, without taking his eye off you, nods with a mechanical gesture.

"I'll be there in a second," he replies, but his attention remains anchored on you.

The man persists, trying to make him understand the urgency of the situation, but Aemond is unwilling to let you go. His gaze, full of pleading and determination, watches you intently.

"Please don't go. Wait for me to finish rolling so we can go somewhere else and talk," he pleads in his voice laden with urgency.

And you feeling caught between the intensity of the situation, you inhale deeply, feeling the man's annoyed and desperate gaze on you as well as on him.

"Fine," you say without emotion.

"Fine?" he repeats, thinking maybe he has misheard.

"Fine," you affirm.

He nods gratefully and his gaze reflects both relief and gratitude.

"I promise I'll try to finish soon," he states softly, his voice with determination.

You don't say anything back, only he finally turns away from you but his eye continues to watch you longingly and intently, as if he fears you're going to vanish again right there.

And as he begins to walk away, you inevitably dive into memories of the past, reliving both the good times and the bad times you shared with him, as Aemond wishes today's shooting would come to an end so he could get close to you again.

However, once he is no longer in your sight, nor you in his, the weight of remorse becomes evident in your chest.

Although you told him to stay and talk to him later, you find yourself unable to do so. And you quickly make your way to the nursery, take your son in your arms and leave the film set without wasting another second.

You are truly sorry for him, but this is necessary. All you want at this moment is to protect your son and also your broken heart.

ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO

"We need to approach this with caution."

Criston Cole speaks, completely serious and as he paces around the living room of your apartment, you sitting on the couch and Aemond standing with an attentive and anxious look to him.

"And there's no need for us all to make fools of ourselves, we know the most viable option at this point is an abortion."

This immediately grabs your attention, watching Criston with your eyes wide as Aemond beside him frowns and stares at him in confused disbelief.

"An abortion?"

"I'm sorry, Aemond, but your image is everything," he tells him seriously, "A pregnancy at this time will affect your career," he explains, "Right now you are supposed to be in a relationship with Cerelle Lannister and how do you think people are going to react when they find out about this?"

"We would have to make confidentiality agreements if you decide to accompany her to the clinic," his publicist speaks, "Deny rumors and manage your public image."

"But if she decides to go into the clinic on her own, it won't be so complicated," speaks a man on her PR team.

"And an abortion at home?" suggests Criston, as if it's the easiest and most normal thing in the world.

"An abortion at home is not the best, it will be more difficult and anything can go wrong. The safest thing is the clinic."

You all start talking about different techniques to preserve Aemond's reputation, which is his job, while you stand there among everyone in silence, horrified at the thought of an abortion and overwhelmed by the magnitude of the decisions they are suggesting around you.

You look at Aemond completely panicked and looking for his support, but he is completely focused on his team.

"And how could we hide it? I mean, how exactly would that be handled if I decided to accompany her to the clinic?"

Disbelief washes over you completely, watching him confused and hurt.

He can't seriously consider—

"We'll implement a diversionary strategy on your behalf, like a charity event with attention-diverting photo shoots where we can work with some media to make sure the news prevails," the woman explains, "All while she goes through the process and you accompany her."

"If you are going with her to the clinic you must be completely covered," Criston tells him, "I will form a security team for you, we will lock down the entire clinic so that only she is attended to and so no one can recognize you."

"The best thing to do would be to create confidentiality contracts," suggests the same guy from before.

"Yeah, do that," Criston points out, "No one can know about this, not even the production company or your family, Aemond, you know what I mean?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks annoyed, "How do you expect me not to tell my mother about this? Y/N's parents don't live here, she doesn't even talk to them and we need that kind of support," he says incredulously.

"Do you want this to come to light by accident?" he asks between his teeth, "It doesn't matter that it's your family, no one can know, besides all this could have been avoided if both of you and especially you had been more responsible," he reproaches him.

You listen as Aemond speaks again, but you don't pay attention anymore, you just keep silent, observing the emptiness with tears falling down your cheeks.

All while around you they keep talking about more strategies, while you, you feel that you are the spectator of your own life, feeling hopeless, sad and scared.

And that's when Aemond finally notices your state and his gaze changes, looking at you with concern and understanding, feeling like an idiot for not knowing what you want to do. You haven't even been given the option to abort, just everyone and he has already decided for you.

"No, wait," he says serious and firm, stopping his entire team, to quickly turn to you, kneeling down and taking your hands in his, "Hey, darling," he looks at you worriedly, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, "Are you okay?"

You blink softly as you lower your gaze, trying to chase away your tears but it is impossible, while the eyes of the others also watch you, where finally your voice has space in the conversation, but you look at him hurt and worried.

"Do you really want me to do this?" you ask him with your voice completely broken.

"You need to think about what's best for both of you," Criston answers you instead, "This is an accident, it's not planned, neither you nor he wanted this to happen, so the best option is an abortion."

"B-but I'm scared," you say weakly.

"And you must not only think of yourself, you must also think of him and his career."

"That's enough," he says annoyed turning to Criston rudely and annoyed, "Didn't you hear her? She's scared and she's not having a voice here. She has as much right to decide what to do as I do."

"Aemond," he warns him, "We're here to protect your career."

Aemond clenches his jaw, tension beginning to emerge throughout the room.

"Yes, I understand that, but this isn't just about me, it's about both of us and especially her. We can't make a decision without considering what she thinks."

Criston folds his arms and lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Aemond, I understand your point but the reality is different. The press can be ruthless–

"Sometimes, Criston, there are more important things than the press," he replies in his firm tone. "And this is one of those times. I'm not going to sacrifice Y/N's happiness and decision for the sake of my career. We need to find a solution that works for both of us."

Criston shakes his head as he purses his lips.

"Fine," he says seriously and looking at him expectantly, then looks at you, "So tell us, Y/N, what do you want to do? Have the baby?" he asks clearly incredulous.

And you, feeling everyone's piercing gaze, making you feel nervous and scared, respond with all the fear in the world but not being unwilling to not let them know what you think is best.

"Yes," you reply quietly and with a completely vulnerable tone.

The expression on Criston's face worsens, not believing it, as well as the woman publicist and the entire PR team look shocked and annoyed.

And Criston, frustrated, can't contain his anger.

"Y/N," he calls you in a serious voice and wanting to make you understand, "This baby was not planned and all of us can help you handle this correctly and privately. We simply cannot let this affect Aemond's career."

His words echo throughout your living room, feeling the tension, as you feel the weight of all the expectant stares, feeling completely vulnerable and helpless.

"B-but I'm afraid of going through an abortion and I don't think that's—

The anger in Criston's eyes increases, while some of the team members exchanged serious and uneasy looks with the atmosphere becoming increasingly tense.

"This baby wasn't planned, Y/N," he repeats to you seriously and with a firm tone, "You can't ignore reality."

"Look, we understand that this is a complicated situation and a difficult decision," the publicist tells you, "But you must consider the impact it will have on Aemond's career if you decide to have him."

"Besides the fact that the news of an unplanned pregnancy could generate a negative narrative in the media," the PR man says.

"And it will affect his career, definitely," adds another woman.

"But I—

You try to speak, with desperation in your tone of voice completely broken and tears still streaming down your cheeks.

"Y/N, our job is to protect Aemond's reputation at all costs. And that's exactly what we're going to do."

Criston tells you as a final answer and you can only look at him completely bewildered, sad and hopeless, while in an attempt to seek support in all this, as they are deciding everything for you, you look at Aemond with clear despair in your eyes.

And he watches you with tight lips and a look of sadness, frustration and resignation, and then turns his gaze away from yours and immerses himself in his own internal struggle between his feelings and the reality of his career as he lets out a sigh.

Until finally he breaks the silence.

"Okay," he looks at everyone with a tired but determined look, then looks at you, "We'll have the baby."

Disbelief and surprise wash over you, watching him with relief beginning to reflect in your eyes, as Criston and his entire team, look on in complete bewilderment and alarm.

"Aemond—

Criston tries to speak, with clear dissatisfaction all over his eyes, but he won't let him.

"This is my responsibility too," he tells him firmly, "But it's her body and she decides."

"You're not thinking clearly—

"Listen," he interrupts again, serious, then looks at you again and turns to you, "Y/N," he says softly and with some caution, "We'll have the baby, okay? You will stay in my apartment, I will settle all the necessary expenses and I will be by your side always, making sure that you and the baby have everything you need, as it should be," he assures you.

That relief and that little spark of hope and happiness persists, until all that was beginning to bloom vanishes in a second when Aemond says the following words:

"But I cannot recognize the baby publicly or legally."

Then, everything around you stops.

His words echo continuously in your mind like a distant echo and you watch him completely bewildered, confused, hurt and even with some betrayal as your breath catches.

"Actually that might work," says his publicist, "Up to a certain time but it might work."

"Really?" asks Criston seriously but thoughtfully.

"Recognizing the baby legally and giving him his last name will be a public record and document, anyone could access it and it would be too much of a risk to Aemond's career. But by not doing so, it gives us more time and an advantage."

"You'll still be able to take care of him and be there for him, privately. And when the time comes, giving him your last name won't be a problem, you could even set a date."

Aemond listens carefully, then turns his gaze back to you, while you can't take your eyes off him and ask him silently, completely hurt: why? Why do something like this?

You understand perfectly well his job and what is at stake but what about you? The baby? Does his career really matter more?

But you can't formulate words, you just continue to watch him, until there is simply nothing more inside you, only pain and betrayal, unable to believe that he said those words and it breaks your heart even more when he says to you with remorse and seriousness.

"Y/N, please understand that I want to do the right thing, but I also need to protect my career. And this is the best I can offer you right now."

You watch him in complete silence, your eyes relieving your sadness, disappointment and sense of abandonment.

"We need to make sure that during the pregnancy Y/N and the baby are well taken care of, postpartum as well, preventing either of them from appearing in public until the time is right, keeping the news from leaking out."

"Or Y/N can go out publicly but she can't be seen with you," the man says to Aemond, "And the baby must be in cover all the time, especially if his hair is silver like yours afterwards."

And you again stand in the middle of it all, silent and resisting the urge to just cry louder. Your heart is beating too hard, where your emotions are tangled in confusion and pain.

"So it could work? For a while?" asks Aemond, hopeful, but with clear frustration and worry in his eyes, realizing that he really doesn't want to do this.

"Sure. As long as she's not seen with you during and after the pregnancy and the baby is fully protected, everything will be fine."

taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak

there were some of you that I could not tag:(

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond

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ragnarockz · 3 months ago

Text

Agatha All Along Week Day 1: Jealousy

Summary: Vidal cannot shake the past romantic relationship that Agnes and Alice once had.

Pairings: Detective Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal

Rating: Mature (NSFW)

Inspo: Girlfriend by Alicia Keys

*Italicized parts are lyrics from song inspo above*

@agathaallalongweek

Alice Wu Gulliver was like a haunting that filled the little spaces in Vidal and Agnes' home. The second Vidal thought Alice was just another thought in the wind; something else would pop up and place her alongside the two of them.

A dusty key chain with ALICE on it found in the basement tossed in a random box of decorations, a well worn band tee shirt that Agnes had shoved in her drawer and got it stuck so that Vidal had to take the entire drawer out to fix. The shirt fell out of its hiding place like a rotten tooth knocked loose.

There were so many things Vidal wanted to say to Agnes; to ask her. Vidal of course respected her girlfriends privacy and history; the very hard life she had to endure before they even met. There was a sadness in Agnes that Vidal knew she couldn't fix. But, why would she? That sadness made Agnes who she was and she loved the woman Agnes was; all of her. It was of course more than just accepting Agnes for the person that she was. Vidal wanted to understand the woman Agnes was and it was very rare Agnes allowed for that.

It wasn't anger or disappointment towards the detective and the longer Vidal mused about her feelings, she had slowly come to realize what the feeling was that burned in her chest. Jealousy. A whole lifetime away that Vidal knew she would never get to experience with Agnes. A whole eclipse of time that she would never be allowed to look back on with fondness or sadness simply because their paths had not crossed that early on.

But, of course, Agnes and Alice's paths had crossed and without a doubt, they could look back with fondness and sadness.

Vidal sucked in her cheeks as she refolded the shirt and tucked it at the very bottom of Agnes' messy tee shirt pile before fixing the drawer and slamming it shut.

Alice lived with them even if she didn't know it; wasn't physically walking around and touching their things.

Alice sat at the table during dinner whenever Agnes mentioned something about an 8 dollar steak and eggs meal she used to get just after Nicky was born and she was craving meat. That place no longer existed; no longer could one get a meal like that for that price.

Alice was in their bed whenever Agnes pulled out the Polaroid camera to take pictures of Vidal; always making them as graphic and pornographic as she could. Vidal did not mind; loved how they got Agnes off and loved how it was a little keepsake of their love, desire, affection, passion. Vidal only pouted and rolled her eyes when Agnes would position her in a certain way that Vidal had seen in the same fashion of the Polaroids of Alice that were tucked away in that box under Nicky's bed. Agnes knew that Vidal knew; knew that her girlfriend had seen the Polaroids. Agnes was aware that Vidal, most likely, knew she was being asked to pose in the same way Agnes once asked Alice to pose all those years ago.

Alice lingered around and inside the room that always had the door closed. She made her presence known in there as Agnes, if ever, opened that door to go inside. It was locked up like a secret; a burning, disgusting secret that Agnes never had the heart to spill out. It chewed at Vidal's heart and she knew, no matter how much prodding or coaxing, she could never get it out of the detective.

May be silly for me to feel/This way about you and her/'Cause I know she's been such a good friend/I know she had helped you through

"Why don't we ever talk about Alice?"

Vidal whispered as she peered between her legs and down at Agnes' face. She caught those blue eyes staring back at her; the bottom half of her face hidden by the mound of Vidal's pubis. There was embarrassment and fear in them that Vidal could recognize while she laid there with a smug look on her face. She wanted Agnes to feel slightly uncomfortable while she had her tongue swirling her current girlfriend's clit while her brain was rapidly forced to think about her ex-girlfriend.

Agnes pulled her mouth away and caught her breath before wiping her lips against the inside of Vidal's thigh. They were both silent as they stared one another down. Vidal's eyebrows rose in question and waited for Agnes to respond.

"...Do we need to?"

Vidal's eyes went wider as she blinked. She was staring Agnes down with a look of impatience that Agnes definitely received. Vidal watched as the detective let out a low and deep exhale through her mouth before clearing her throat.

"You want to talk about her right now?"

Vidal shrugged against the pillow as she brought her hands up to rest behind her head; propping herself up a little better. She gave Agnes a tight smile in response and waited.

It was definitely something, Agnes thought as her gaze drifted back down to the space between Vidal's open legs, to be asked about your ex while eating your current partner out.

"What...do you want me to say?"

Vidal's eyes narrowed as she jutted her chin forward a little; held her breath with the air of superiority. What did she want Agnes to say?

"How come she's still here? Why can't you let her go?"

Agnes opened her mouth to reply but no words, no sounds came out. She was struck dumb by the bluntness of Vidal's questions. Struck dumb because she knew Vidal was right. Why was Alice still here in little ways that didn't add much to anything? Why was she allowed to haunt this home alongside Nicholas as well?

Alice was alive; Nicholas was not.

Alice had moved on; Agnes had not.

"If it wasn't for her, Vidal...I don't think I'd be here right now...in between your legs...she shares a special part of me..."

Vidal remained silent as she shifted a little against the bed; shifted her legs so that they opened a little wider in invitation. Agnes' eyebrows rose as she bowed her head once more; tongue chasing before her mouth did as she made contact again with Vidal's clitoral hood. She made broad strokes with her tongue before pressing the tip of her tongue right down onto the tiny pulsing nub. Vidal let out a shaky, ragged breath as she sunk a little deeper and closed her eyes to focus on the sensation Agnes was providing her with.

You said that she's one who helped you see/How deep you're in love with me

Vidal was still tangled in the sheets at 5 am; deep in her sleep from another night of having nothing but being worshiped by Agnes. Agnes, on the other hand, was up and dressed and already in the kitchen grabbing a coffee and a granola bar before heading out with the box tucked under her arm. She closed the front door as quietly as she could behind her and locked it before heading to the car. She unlocked it, opened the passenger seat and placed the box there before quietly closing the door and making her way over to the driver's side.

She had woken up an hour ago and felt like Vidal was in her mind; talking into her ear. Why was she holding on so dearly to all of this? Why couldn't she let go? Why couldn't she fully direct all of her love and attention to Vidal? Alice was nothing more than the past and everything that physically lingered continued to hold Agnes back and she herself knew it. As quietly as she could, Agnes had gathered up all of the things she no longer needed and put them into a box.

Agnes drove with determination; the radio turned low with one of her CDs playing. The weather had changed within the hour from somewhat sunny to overcast with the promise of rain. It pulled Agnes right back to the day that she and Alice said their goodbyes in that coffee shop with the box Alice had gifted her in the chair between them.

Maybe, Agnes thought as she pulled into Alice and Jen's driveway, turning off and parking the car, it would be one less ghost haunting her and Vidal.

Agnes got out and made her way back around to the passenger side; opening the door and taking out the box. She grabbed it with both hands and walked up the walkway to their front door. She doubted they were even awake yet as she knew, from years ago, Alice loved to sleep in. Agnes placed the box on the welcome mat and gave it one last look before she took the envelope out of her heavy canvas jacket pocket and slipped it under the lid.

She backed up one step and then two, before she turned her back to head back to the car once more.

And you say that you feel/I'm the best thing in your life/And I know it's real/And I see it in your eyes

It had been more or less twenty five years since Agnes had walked into this coffee shop. Many things had changed and yet, a lot of it still stayed the same. New and upgraded appliances and seating. Old and weathered paint and floor tiles. Agnes pulled in a deep breath and then sighed it out; legs wobbly as she walked towards the counter to order. She stole a glance over to where that meeting had taken place all those years ago and realized as she was called next in line, that ghosts would follow her no matter where she went.

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