#Which makes me anxious about being anxious

[cherrylovelycherry]

You and me. Us.

pairing. Aventurine x fem!reader cw/genre. angst, confused thoughts and feelings, insecurity. synopsis. You didn't feel right, so after keeping it to yourself, you decided to talk it over with him. masterlist

Despite him being a loving and attentive boyfriend, something was troubling him internally.

It could be his senses telling him that something "bad" was happening, like a premonition.

For your part, there was no change, you were still stuck to him, as always.

So after about 2 months, he decided to ignore that strange worried feeling inside him.

However, one night you saw him pacing back and forth, muttering some words under his breath.

When he seemed to notice you, he stopped what he was doing and approached you.

"I can't stop thinking about it.. something's going to go wrong, I just feel it. Maybe I'm being paranoid."

It was unlike you to see him with this sort of anxious energy.

You reached out to him, squeezing his hand gently. He looked up at you and gave a smile of appreciation, but the tension in his eyes persisted.

"You know it's normal to get tense, right?" You tried to make your words comforting and soft. "Everything is going to be okay, honey."

Despite not knowing his thoughts in detail or being able to put yourself in his place at that moment, you tried to comfort him.

He let out a sigh that seemed to expel all of his worries. His grip on your hand was tight enough for you to be able to sense his anxiety.

He pressed his forehead towards yours, his eyes closed tight.

You wondered what was going through his mind.

He couldn't bring himself to look at you during this moment.

His thumb gently brushed your hand, his eyes slightly clenched as he was about to tell you something, but hesitated.

It seems to be hard for him to get out what he was trying to say.

So he opted to squeeze your hand and bury his face into your chest.

You let a smile grace your face, despite his tense aura.

You understood him enough to know that whatever he was going through right now was something beyond your knowledge.

You comforted and supported him by wrapping your arms around him, kissing his head, and rubbing his back.

He looked grateful as your tender words of comfort helped him relax.

It was a nice moment of intimacy. It wasn't always a situation like this between the two of them, but there was never a problem comforting each other.

The affection and love that both had for each other was very enviable, they fit together so well in any situation.

Your fingers found their way onto his chin, gently lifting his head up so that he could meet your gaze.

His face was soft and expressive even when feeling down.

Even in the midst of trouble, he could always find a ray of hope with you.

He didn't say a word, but the feeling of your thumb rubbing his chin could be interpreted as "everything will be alright".

You both stayed close throughout the rest of the night.

It was an unproblematic night of rest for the both of you, he slept comfortably next to you, and you watched over him, feeling safe.

As the weeks went by, the one who started to feel bad was you.

Physically bad.

First came the nausea and dizziness, which you managed to hide perfectly from Aventurine.

At one point you thought you were sick and that these symptoms would eventually go away. However, that didn't happen, the symptoms remained, which worried you.

"…" From the way you felt, you suspected it from the first moment.

You sat on the bed, your legs a little weak from the shock, staring at the pregnancy test.

The minutes of waiting felt like hours. The intrigue was killing you.

Until finally you could see for yourself, your suspicions were right. You were pregnant.

You didn't know how to feel, you didn't know whether to be excited or worried.

However, a smile grew on your face, and you hugged the test closer to yourself.

So what if you weren't ready? For you this was something to be happy about.

But all you could think about was the moment you'd tell him.

He would be happy with this news, right?

Despite the pregnancy, life carried on, and so did you.

The symptoms you've been experiencing were unpleasant but tolerable. The nausea was still there, and you still felt dizzy, but you did your best to get through it.

As for the pregnancy, you tried to tell Aventurine once or twice. But you just… didn't feel ready yet. You wanted the perfect moment to drop that bomb on him, but that perfect moment felt like it never came.

You looked at Aventurine's sleeping form.

Should you tell him the news?

He looked so peaceful.

Perhaps you should wait for the right moment, the right time.

You laid there, not wanting to wake him, feeling a sense of anticipation inside. Even after the physical symptoms subsided slightly, your mind was full of worries.

"What if he doesn't want children now?"

"What if he thinks we're not ready?"

"He wouldn't leave me, would he?"

You wanted to push these worries aside and focus on the good things, but your mind wandered.

You didn't realise when it was that he had already woken up and was looking at you for a while.

You came out of your thoughts when you felt his hands caressing your face.

"Darling, what's wrong?" His voice was soft, not wanting to scare you.

For your part, you felt relaxed at his touch.

He continued to stroke your face, his hands eventually finding their way into your hair and gently combing it as he spoke,

"… Are you okay…?"

He sounded slightly worried.

"Mhm." After making a sound of affirmation, you clung to him, keeping your head buried to his chest.

"…" Once you were close to him, he continued to stroke your hair gently, not speaking, just wanting to listen to your breathing for a moment.

He rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe you, despite not knowing what was wrong. After a moment of silence, you broke it by speaking.

"I'm pregnant…" You blurted out. Your words were somewhat muffled by the fact that your face was in his chest.

His body tensed as soon as the words left your mouth.

"You're… pregnant?"

His hands stopped moving as an overwhelming sense of shock and fear came over him.

You thought he would be happy with that type of news but what you got was something different.

"…" Your boyfriend couldn't get his mind to respond, his face expressionless as he processed your words.

You let out a sigh as you waited for his words of response. He slowly pulled you away from his chest and stared straight into your eyes, almost as if studying your expression.

After another long pause, he spoke.

"You're… you're sure…?"

Your response was a confident nod.

He was quiet for a while.

"…" He could barely process what you'd just told him.

This was not the response you were expecting.

However, he still didn't move, not even a slight twitch of emotion on his face.

Silence.

His eyes wandered away from you, looking at the ceiling.

He was deep in internal crisis, feeling overwhelmed with all sorts of different thoughts.

At this moment, anxiety and nervousness flooded your system. The situation that had gone quiet too long was something that made you uncomfortable.

You waited.

He still wasn't speaking.

After another few minutes of staring at the ceiling, he finally opened his mouth.

"… I need time to think about this, dear" He said, his voice as serious as you had ever heard it before.

Before he got up, he ruffled your hair gently. Then he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom without another word or a glance thrown in your direction.

A feeling of rejection began to fill your heart as the bathroom door closed, leaving you all alone.

Your stomach dropped at the unexpected response. The fact that he requested time to digest what you had just told him made you increasingly anxious. Your fingers fiddled with the bedsheet, you were thinking too.

Is he angry with you for getting pregnant?

Is he just scared?

Why did he react like that instead of showing happiness like you thought he would?

The questions were countless, each one creating an increasing sense of insecurity within you.

But not only insecurity, but also sadness.

You couldn't help but think that this would be the breakup of your relationship, also due to the fact that you would have to raise your child alone.

It was a little too much for you to make those kinds of ideas and thoughts.

From one moment to the next you felt your cheeks wet. You didn't bother to dry them, you stayed leaning on the pillow, trying to disappear at that moment.

Your emotions were not very rational, being 4 months pregnant was hard.

On the other hand, Aventurine was locked in the bathroom.

He had a range of emotions inside of him.

Fear, anxiety, frustration, worry.

He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror.

You were the love of his life, so he knew that there was no way he would leave you. But that didn't change the fact that he was terrified right now.

After a while of crying and waiting, you finally noticed the bathroom door slightly open.

Aventurine was still very far from calm. His face seemed still tense, but he was much more relaxed than before.

"Honey…" His voice was gentle, he came to sit next to you and started running his hand down your back again, trying to soothe you.

You were with your head buried in the pillow and with the blanket covering your entire body.

His touch gave you comfort, his presence reassured you.

"Please look at me, darling." he insisted, his thumb tracing the outline of your face.

You did as he said, you slowly turned your head and looked at him, he was smiling slightly, which surprised you.

"Come here." he took you in his arms, placing you on top of his lap.

Your eyes slowly closed, you let out a small sigh as you began to relax, and your mind started to settle.

While you sat on his lap, he brushed his hand through your hair, not speaking.

You buried your face into his shoulder and let him do his thing, it was calming.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft as he continued to comb through your hair.

"It was stupid of me to react like that." He said, letting out a tired sigh.

His words soothed you.

You kept quiet for a moment, not knowing if you should answer him or not.

By the time you were going to answer him, Aventurine spoke again.

"I'm just…scared." As he spoke, his voice cut off at the end. His arms wrapped around you as if you were going to slip away from his grasp at that moment.

After a while, you broke away from his grip, you lifted your head off his shoulder and went to grab his face, placing it in your hands. You looked into his eyes and tried to get a glimpse of what was going on inside of him, but it was hard to read.

Your face was worried, no matter how much you tried to get an idea of what was going on in his head, you couldn't figure it out.

In his eyes there was a hint of tears beginning to fill little by little. Not to mention the expression he had on his face, it was something that surprised you, you had rarely seen him like that.

"Can I ask why, darling?" You tried to sound as cautious and gentle as possible, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.

His eyes closed as soon as you touched him.

When you asked your question, he was silent for a few seconds before speaking very softly.

It was like he was fighting to hold himself together to keep himself from breaking from the flood of emotions.

"You know what my childhood was like, how they killed all of my race, I—" He took some time to stop his voice from breaking up again.

You, with the greatest delicacy in the world, wiped away the fine tears that fell from his eyes. You didn't rush him to speak, you simply listened to him, letting him know you were there.

"I don't want this baby to suffer. Who knows what they life will be like when they grows up? We don't know if they could have the same luck that I had…" His voice faded into a silent murmur, unable to continue talking.

He was trembling slighty, his body seemed to be unable to hold all of the distress that was eating at his mind.

After he spoke, you held him close to you, your arms embraced him tightly, so he could cry, if he needed it, without feeling uncomfortable.

You rubbed his back gently to keep him calm, you knew that the moment that you were in was very delicate and that he needed your attention and support.

You let him get his thoughts out of his system.

His insecurities were very understandable.

It did not seem to be a problem of not wanting the baby, but rather a problem of fear and anxiety about what life the child might have.

You understood him perfectly, he had lived through a lot in his life and did not want to put that on his baby.

In front of you, you could see the man who was so confident, crumble into a pile of fears and insecurities. Insecurities that he don't let other people see.

"Mhm, you're right, my love. We don't know what will become of they future." Your voice was quiet, as if it were a lullaby to calm him down.

"I also know that that you are very afraid that they will go through the same thing as you. There, unfortunately you were alone…but now you have me." You could almost hear him holding back his sobs.

"The baby will have you and me. And I know we will make sure this child was the happiest and most protected by us."

With that, he stopped holding back his sobs, letting them out. As he clung to your chest, finding the comfort he longed for.

All he heard were your words, words that calmed him down like the sound of a song.

You held him close and comforted him, as if he was a child needing a gentle voice to help him fall asleep.

His head rested on your chest while your arms were wrapped around him.

"…" His breathing started to slow down, the tension was slowly being drained out of his body.

You could feel the softness of his body and his soft hiccups.

"Mhm.." He let out a sound, while with one of his hands, he wiped his wet cheeks.

You continued to stroke his hair and comfort him.

Love and affection.

"I love you." he spoke, his voice still trembling, but not with anxiety this time. "I love you so much."

The weight that seemed to be on his shoulders lifted, even if just a little, as the fear that had been tormenting him was starting to melt away.

He broke away from your grip a little and turned to face you, then he looked at you.

"I love you both." He said as he placed a hand on your belly.

The love he had in his gaze was undeniable. With his hand on your belly, the reality you were living felt much more real.

You smiled at him, and placed your hand over his, keeping it placed against your belly.

"We love you too, my dear."

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[joshlmbrt]

I’M LOST IN ADMIRATION, COULD I NEED YOU THIS MUCH? | PROLOGUE

chapter warnings; does not follow ST timeline, eddie being slightly sour, a creepy boy, eddie is a knight in shining …. metallica tee?, no appearance spoken about (i try to be inclusive for everyone to read) - but if there’s anything besides accidental pronoun drop, please feel free to let me know!

an; super excited to tell eddie’s story for my au and for all of you to read! i’m slightly hoping people will ask me questions in my inbox for this story like i’ve seen others do on other blogs (a girl can dream). but to those who take time to read and who ever is excited - thank you so much. i adore you forever.

JUNE 15TH, 1987. 

𖡡 AGUSTA, INDIANA. 

Eddie is starting to regret showing up to a concert that Steve had drugged both him and Robin to - Tears For Fears concert at that. 

Robin was beaming - bouncing on her toes, blue eyes scoping the top of everyone’s head, hands clasped together in front of her chest. “Eddie, quit being so sour. You’re gonna bring down my mood.” 

“It’s hot out here,” Eddie complains. “My hair is flat to my head now because I’m all sticky. I need a drink too.” 

“Do you want a snack too?” It’s a rhetorical question Steve asks. But Eddie smirks and looks at him. 

“Yes. Yes, I do. When we get in there you're gonna give me some cash and I’ll go get us something from the bar.” 

“Me? Why me?” Steve is baffled by Eddie’s suggestion as if he wasn’t the one who wanted to come. 

“Because I barely have any money and you drug me here,” He points his thumb towards Robin. “She wanted to come. That’s a different story.” 

Steve grumbles and pulls his wallet from the front pocket of his jeans. Eddie’s brows lift slightly, head tilting up slightly to take a quick peek into the wallet. 

Steve narrows his eyes and quickly shuts his wallet as he hands over two twenty dollar bills. 

Eddie takes it from Steve’s hand. “Thank you, rich man.” 

Steve opens his mouth to speak but Robin is squealing. “They’re opening the doors!” She claps. “Maybe we can bulldoze over a couple of people to get close to the stage.” 

Eddie and Steve glances at one another - they know Robin would not have that in her, especially in one’s anxious nature. 

There’s a stamp placed on each of their hands when they step close to the guard up front. Robin steps inside, looking around the lobby area with wide eyes and parted mouth. “This is so tubular.” 

It’s been a saying she’s added into her vocabulary. Along with ‘veg out’. 

“Dustin is gonna be so jealous,” She then looks at Steve. “Kind of feel bad for the strange boy, matter-of-fact.” 

Steve rolls his eyes and places his hands on his hips. “He’ll be fine.” 

“He threw out your hair supplies when he found out, Steve.” 

“Well…” Steve thinks for a moment before shaking his head. “He’ll be fine eventually. I didn’t even know he liked Tears For Fears! I would’ve brought him instead of tough guy over here, all brooding and mysterious.” 

Eddie smacks the hand of the pointing thumb, mocking him before slapping his forehead as he walks past. “I’ll find you in the crowd, peasants.” 

Steve huffs, pointing at him. “I better get my change back, Munson.” 

Eddie waves a hand and glances over his shoulder watching as Steve and Robin make their way into the arena. Letting a small sigh out, he slips out of line. 

He wanted to look around first. Wanted to get a feel of what it’d be like to perform somewhere like here. It’s still in Indiana, but some place better than Hawkins. 

He’s cooled off tremendously, but his hair is still flat to his head which annoys him to no end. His scalp itches from how much he had sweat from waiting outside. He should’ve worn something way different besides black. 

He has color in his closet, but waking up at the crack of dawn to go on a small road trip with two chatterboxes was not ideal - especially ones who would not let you go back to sleep. 

He's caught off by the sound of a pinball machine and the multitude of ding, ding, dings that leave the open room and float down the hallway. There’s a neon sign that glows red and stretches across the carpet that beckons Eddie to an arcade room. 

An arcade room! 

The cash in his pocket feels like it’s burning a hole through his pocket but he knows if he comes back empty handed - snacks, drinks, and cash back - he’s a dead man while Curt Smith and Roland Orzabal sings the song that has a strangely upbeat sound but sad lyrics. 

Mad World if you will. 

He could just look. That’s it. No playing. Just peeking at all the high scores that he knows he could’ve beat with the eighty bucks right now. 

He might’ve lied when he said he barely had any money. He had twenty to spare. 

His smile doesn’t falter as he walks down the row of machines, letting out a whistle at one of the high scores. 

“I’m really not interested. I’m sorry, sir.” 

Eddie’s brow lifts slightly as he stops by a machine that’s close to the register. 

There’s a couple of chuckles that have him turning his head and investigating what’s going on behind him. There’s a group of boys against one person behind the counter - you. 

You look tired and fed up with the antics that you had put up with the whole day. 

“Sir…A good one who uses manners - that’s rare,” Eddie rolls his eyes, shaking his head. If that kid thinks that was a pick-up line, he’s grossly mistaken. “Anyway. I just think maybe you should—”

“She told you, she’s not interested.” It slips before Eddie can catch himself and he’s gritting his teeth together and clamping his eyes shut. 

He can hear the scrunch of new shoes as they make their way over. When he’s opening his eyes, they’re met with pristine Nike’s that has a red swoop on each shoe with blue lines. 

“I don’t think anyone was talking to you.” 

Eddie lets out a defeated sigh - he lets the words slip before he could stop them and that’s a price he has to pay, especially if it takes their mind off of you for a while. 

“And you’re bothering someone with a gross pick-up line while they’re working after they told you they're not interested,” He shakes his head. “I know there’s nothing much that rattles around up here,” The tip of his finger taps at his own temple. 

“But you do know what no means, right? Or did you forget the basic definition of that because you always get what you ask for?” 

There’s a second Eddie feels like he’s lifted from the ground, but he’s wincing when his back is slammed into a machine. It shakes with force and there’s a small ding sound - he almost laughs from the sound. 

“Do you know who you’re talking to?” 

“No,” Eddie shrugs slightly. His rings pinch at his palm when he grips the polished edge of the glass. “Oh, wait, you don’t know what that means, do you?” 

His shirt is bunched up when he feels the grip loosen. “Oh, you’re a mouthy one, huh?” 

“Occasionally.” 

Eddie’s digging himself deeper in a hole that, again, he never meant to start first and now he’s about… twelve feet down. 

The boy in front of him chuckles. Eddie lets out a small laugh because he realized how incredibly stupid this whole thing is. And maybe because he’s nervous as well. 

“Brian!” The boy flinches and looks over his shoulder. Eddie glances at his knight-in-shining-uniform. “I told you to leave my workers alone and not to come back here. I could call the cops if I wanted to. Leave.” 

Ah, so this has happened on more than one occasion, has it, Brian. 

Eddie looks back when blue eyes connect with him again. “Watch your back.” To make it seem good, he’s pushing Eddie back into the machine again. 

Yeah, well, good thing for Eddie, he doesn’t have to watch his back. He doesn’t even live here. 

The man follows behind the group of boys, giving you a small nod. You give a quick nod back and a little thumbs up. You then turn and look at Eddie, tilting your head slightly. 

He watches as you walk closer and bend at the waist before coming back up, holding up two folded green bills. “Dropped this.” 

“Oh,” He’s suddenly flushed and he nods a bit, grabbing the cash from your fingers. “Thanks.” 

“Well, thank you. For, uh, taking up for me. Not a lot of people have the courage to do that.” 

“Yeah, well,” Eddie stands straighter when he notices that he’s still leaned against the machine and smooths out his shirt. “Guys like that are annoying to people. You’d just have to keep on repeating yourself.” 

You give a small nod and a small smile, eyes glancing down at his shirt. “I like your shirt.” 

He glances down because he momentarily forgets what shirt he’s wearing. “Oh, thank you. You listen to Metallica?” 

You laugh softly. “They’re a big band. But, yes, I listen to them. Got tickets for July.” 

“Wait, really?” He lifts his brows. You nod with a small mhm. “I’ll be there too.” 

“Well, uh—”

“Eddie.” He says his name all too eagerly when he realizes he hasn’t even given you his name - what a ditz. 

You smile softly, glossy lips shining from the neon red that catches and mingles. “Eddie,” It’s soft and sweet and smooth the way you repeat his name. “I…might see you there, then?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely. I’ll look for you…” He pauses when he realizes how creepy that sounds. “You can look for me.” 

You snort. “We can both look for one another. How does that sound?” 

“That sounds great, yeah.” 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to the concert, which I’m totally jealous about, by the way. You can see and hear them loud and clear. I get to hear a muffled version.” Your face scrunches a bit as you shake your head. 

He didn’t want to say how sour he was the whole way here - he’ll spare that. Instead, he says - “I’ll enjoy it for the both of us.” 

You smile at him again, nodding. “I’d appreciate it. Thank you.” 

Nodding, he’s walking out of the arcade, only glancing back until you’re out of view. He’s just realizing how much time he’s spent in the arcade and curses quietly to himself, stepping into the arena, eyes squinting to see if he can make out a screaming rasping girl and a head full of hair. 

Cutting through the crowd, he finally catches a whiff of Steve’s cologne and glances over. “Steve!” He's making his way over, before stopping beside him. 

“You didn’t get anything?! What were you doing this whole time?!” 

Take a wild guess. 

“Uhh … Bathroom. I decided to just come here when I got out!” 

Steve rolls his eyes and grabs the money from Eddie’s hand that he hands back over. He flinches when Robin grips his forearm, jumping as they fade into a new song. 

Only then does Eddie realize…

He never got your name. 

— @joshlmbrt 2024

[bby-deerling]

Hi!! I was wondering, do you have any friendship HC’s for the Law/Bepo/shachi/penguin dynamic? We only ever really see them interacting in action so I’d love to know what shenanigans you think they’d get up to in day to day life around the sub because let’s be honest, those four together are probably chaos incarnate ^.^

Tysm for your amazing writings, they make my day! 💕

oh my goodness i have SO many thoughts so please bear with me, this will probably be so disorganized.

first of all, i think that they have a ridiculous amount of inside jokes as a result of them living so closely for so many years. i think that law is a lot more laid-back around his crew in general, and this is especially true around shachi, penguin, and bepo.

in my mind, they all have their specific brand of chaos, but shachi displays it in the most outward of ways and isn't afraid to tease or play pranks on the others. also, totally unrelated, but i headcanon that he has an on-again off-again relationship with ikkaku (they are endgame though, and law is secretly very invested in all of the drama). he keeps cutting hair even after they all become pirates, and takes care of everyone on the polar tang, even though most of them wear hats. he makes fun of law because his hairline is receding and gets away with it bc law loves him to death (he's secretly insecure about it).

penguin is a bit more subdued and calm, but when he comes up with pranks or witty remarks, they're usually very well thought out. he's a bit quieter than shachi, but they complement each other's energy well, and he's always willing to help out with whoever needs assistance around the ship. i think that he and shachi also continue to do a majority of the cooking on the polar tang, which probably makes all of them feel nostalgic about their time with wolf.

in my mind, based on the way bepo isn't afraid to push shachi and penguin around (which is a far cry from when they were kids), whenever someone new joins the crew, bepo probably makes a big deal out of telling them how mean shachi and penguin were when they first met, even when it happened years ago, just to see his friends get flustered about it (and gain sympathy points with the new crewmember). he isn't afraid to pull the "cute" card to get what he wants, especially from law, and shachi and penguin are the only ones on the crew that carry enough weight to call him out on this behavior (he won't stop though).

and law's chaos is the quiet kind, and he encourages all of his friends' shenanigans, participating when he sees fit. i also headcanon some of the dorky things about him that are shown in one piece party like wearing pool floaties and dumb hawaiian shirts and playing the tambourine while his friends sing karaoke as true. shachi and penguin probably buy him new horrible shirts all the time, and he wears them with pride. in my mind, law is so stressed out during the main events of one piece, but during the majority of the 10 or so years that he's sailing with his crew, he is able to relax and enjoy the time he spends with his friends, especially during the calm moments underwater.

and on the whole, i think that bepo, shachi, and penguin can get away with teasing law a lot more than anyone else can, and law not so secretly enjoys the banter. the heart pirates have their own breed of chaos, and to be honest, i think the one of the main reasons law is so grumpy when he's with the straw hats is because

he's no longer in charge of the chaos (he is so used to being the quiet ringleader of his little circus of friends)

he misses his friends dreadfully and is just anxious to get back to them.

anyways that was a lot and i have a million more thoughts so enjoy this lil disjointed ramble.

[brucewaynehater101]

I typically go with Romantic which is just. So *oof*. Also, I can just picture it now. Dick asks Tim why he thought this was a good idea at all, why he didn't call someone for a ride and Tim simply replies, "I've been getting back to Gothem on my own like this for years. No need to bother you guys." and before he can even continue theres a chorus of "you aren't a bother" and "what the fuck do you mean?!"

Tim just takes a deep breath and says, "I've been getting back to Gothem on my own since before I was Robin so it was never a Robin or Batman issue, it's always been a Tim Drake thing." of course Bruce demands to know what Tim means by "getting back to Gothem on his own" and he just sighs as he sits on some grain, biting the bullet to just get it over with as he says, "sometimes when I went on trips with my parents they would get into arguments and leave in separate cars. And both of them would think the other one took me with them. And I always showed up at home safe and sound a few days later so they never really questioned it. Ha, first time was actually at a Gala in New York. I remember they were fighting about what dig site to go to and that night Mom got on a flight to Siberia while Dad got on a flight to The Congo. I snuck my little nine year old self onto a gray hound bus and rode it all the way to Gothem and then walked back to the manor."

Tim goes on to tell them about other times, somewhere between venting about his trauma and reminiscing about times he looks back on fondly. The fight that left him in Panama Beach when he was 11, the one that left him in Denver when he was 13, just 3 weeks before he became Robin, the one when he was 15 and was abandoned in Atlanta, the time when they left him somewhere in *Canada* and the time he was left in *Mexico City* when he was 14. He even laughs about having to sneak onto a cargo ship when his parents left him in Paris, France when he was 16. He comments that that one was actually a few weeks after he healed from the Titans Tower fight. Bruce and Jason are both totally not having a near panic attack about that last one.

Tim is living his life and forgetting that what he went through is probably fucked up. If it happened to another kid, he'd label that as criminal neglect. For himself? Meh.

(I know this is possible because, as someone who's been praised for being smart, I can be so fucking dumb. After explaining to my therapist that I've had anxiety attacks several years before and get anxious in social situations, I was shocked when she told me I had anxiety. Fucking dumb of me, but I bet Tim makes similar mistakes).

Just Tim vibing over all the "good times" he had and forgetting that it's fucked up his parents did that. He probably also felt really proud of himself for figuring it out. He was able to solve his issues and navigate complicated problems (like crossing borders without a passport) all by himself! Isn't that so cool!

The poor batfam is having heart attack after heart attack hearing all of this. It's another aspect of Tim that gets added to the piles of "things he hid from us without meaning to" and "why digging up the Drakes to revive and kill them again is a good idea" (Damian and Steph mainly are the ones to propose the second option).

I love the examples you proposed! Tim really was vibing

[strang3lov3]

Raise

Roman Roy x f!reader (6.1k)

Summary - Roman will increase your raise substantially, so long as you don't lose his game.

Tags - 18+ smut mdni, harassment, manipulation, coercion, dubcon, blowjobs, fingering, oral, brief ass eating and play, unprotected piv, rough sex, creampie, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described, roman is dominant because i like him that way, reader has a sick cat.

A/N - hello Roman readers!! it's been a while, but I hope to write a little more of him for you this summer. Thank you for being patient with me and for all of the love and support on Invisible Line . Enjoy the smut my friends

Graciously edited by my love @noxturnalpascal <3

You’re sitting at Roman’s desk, staring at the back of his monitor, counting the number of pens in his cup. You wonder how much he actually writes with them, if he has a favorite and which one it could be. Roman’s making you wait on him, just because he can. He likes to watch you squirm. He’s got an analog clock on the wall that ticks loudly, something he probably hand picked himself. Obnoxious, just like him. 

It’s been about a year of you working at Waystar, a year of putting up with Roman’s antics. It started with some light hazing, as others called it. Roman would humiliate you in meetings, going out of his way to make your day worse. He’d stick a leg out in the aisle of his jet to trip your feet, scuff your pretty heels you worked so hard saving up for. Most bullies get a rise out of their victim’s reaction, but Roman always seemed equally amused by your lack of one. He was relentless, and his tormenting only escalated as time went on. Pinching your ass cheek in a crowded elevator, groping you on the jet, whispering vulgar things in your ear. Roman, ever the walking sexual harassment lawsuit, but nothing you can’t handle. He seems to know this too. 

He’s harmless, after all. Gossip is rich at Waystar Royco, especially when it comes to the family. Kendall went on another bender, Logan’s pissing in closets and losing it, Roman can’t get it up - scared of pussy, always has been, always will be. You’d heard it all before, so you know that all of his touching, inappropriate sexual remarks, they’re just a façade. But yet, you’re not immune to the anxiety he invokes within you. Your heart pounds when Roman enters the room, pounds harder when he locks the door behind him. You feel the pulse between your thighs. 

Roman takes a seat across from you at his desk, papers in hand, and taps the edge of them on the wood to line them up. Your legs are crossed, you’re wiggling your ankle. Anxious tic. “Are you nervous?” he asks. “You don’t have to be. It’s just me and you, you and me. Nothing to be nervous about.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.   

“Cool. So I’m gonna start us off. You’ve been here for uhhh….” Roman hums, thinking, “Little over a year now, so congratulations are in order. So congrats,” he says, motioning to you with the papers in his hand. 

“Thank you,” you say.

Roman continues, “It’s been nice having you here, for a number of reasons. Number of reasons,” he smirks, his voice a little lower. You shift uncomfortably in your seat when he glances at you through his eyebrows, still mostly looking down at his papers. “I like having you here, a lot. I do,” Roman says. He’s throwing you off though,  and you know he’s trying to make you second guess yourself, walk on eggshells around him. And it works. “It’s just…I don’t know. Not that impressed with your performance lately.” 

“Okay…Why, exactly?”

“You tell me.”

Roman’s good at what he’s doing. He knows exactly the kind of inflection in his tone he needs to take to really get under your skin, make you pick at your nails a little more urgently, tug at that loose string in your skirt until it breaks. Roman likes you - really, he does. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, you’re maybe a little meek for his taste, but there’s worse things than that. He had a conversation with you recently on the plane and got to know you a little better. 

-

During the flight he’d noticed the cat photo on your phone’s lock screen and asked about it. “Who’s this?” 

“Artie,” you replied. “He’s my baby. He’s a sick old man, but he’s my baby.”

“Sick? How sick?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to get into it entirely. It’s difficult to think about. “He’s getting uncomfortable. He’s got a few years left in him, I think, but he’s got some stuff going on. I take him in for these treatments every two weeks, and they’re getting too expensive. And he’s got teeth issues, so he’s in pain. And just - none of it’s affordable, so I’m considering…I don’t know. You know.” 

Roman nodded sympathetically, then asked what vet’s office you take Artie to. You stifled your laugh when he told you that he always considered himself a cat person. Roman, a cat person. It’s hard to think of him as an actual human at times, bizarre to think of him as a human that could identify with any sort of animal. If anything, you would have guessed he’d associate with a snake. Bearded dragon, maybe. You don’t know.

 “Seriously, I love ‘em,” he explained, “Dogs are just so in your face, you know? I don’t know. They’re fine, I guess. One of god’s creatures. I’ve just always liked cats.”

“Didn’t know that,” you replied with a small smile. 

“You do now,” he said. He was a little too close for comfort, sitting next to you bicep to bicep, thigh to thigh. Roman whispered, “I can help you, if you ask for it.”

“Ask for what?”

“You know. You’ve got an anniversary coming up, yeah? Usually means a raise. What do you think, would five percent be enough? Take care of your kitty cat and a little extra for you?” Your eyes lit up at that and you nodded excitedly. “I need you to ask.” 

“Can I have…” Nervous it might be a trap, you trail off, but Roman raised his eyebrows and nodded, encouraged to go on. It felt less like a trap than normal, though. “Five percent?”

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure. We’ll have a performance meeting here soon, we’ll bang it all out,” Roman squeezes your thigh a couple of times, you don’t even jump like you usually do when he touches you and flirts. “Yeah?”

-

You tell me.

You’re caught off guard, zero clue what Roman could be referring to. “I don’t - you - what did I do?” your voice comes out shakier, more defensive than you intended.

“Hey, relax. Just you and me, like I said. It’ll be fine.” Roman waits for you to reply, but you’re silent. “It’s not a big deal, really, and it’s fixable. You know, with discipline and all that. I’ve just noticed you’ve got quite the habit of sneaking off to the supply closet? Hours at a time, sometimes, and always when I need you most. What is it you’re doing in there?”

Still silent. Moreso now, as if that’s even possible, because you know exactly what Roman’s talking about. You wonder how much he knows, if he’s heard or - god forbid - seen anything. You’re not going to talk about it.

“That’s fine,” Roman says, “Don’t tell me. Anyway, I see here you’re asking for a five percent raise, the best I can do is one and a half. Insulting, I know, but - well - you know, keep up the hard work. I’m sure you’ll get there.”

“But the plane,” you argue, “Roman, you told me to ask for five.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not - ugh -” he groans then, an exaggerated groan, like he’s really trying to sell it. You shouldn’t have trusted him on the plane, you should’ve known he’d fuck you. He always fucks you, he fucks everyone. “I’m not happy about this either. I think you deserve your five percent. Fuck it, I think you deserve ten. But my hands are tied.”

“But they’re not, Roman, you said–”

“I know what I said, but I told you: you’re dropping the ball, and I just don’t feel that you deserve that five percent anymore. Don’t think it’s representative of the kind of work you’ve been doing here.”  

Roman stares at you from across his desk, putting on his own pouty face to mock yours. You feel disappointed, both in him and in yourself. Dejected. It’s your own fault, for two reasons: A, trusting Roman to throw you a bone and B, getting called out for the closet thing. He stands up, tapping fingers on his desk as he rounds it to sit in the chair next to you and puts a hand on your thigh, always with the hand on your thigh. You’re almost used to it. He says, “You’re upset. I know. I’m sorry. But some raise is better than no raise, right?” with a squeeze to your flesh.

“Yeah. I guess. Was just excited, you and I…we talked about this,” you whisper. Poor Artie. You had told him excitedly that he’s gonna start having good days again. Good thing cats don’t speak English.

“I know. I don’t - yeah, I don’t know. That was before though, wasn’t it? Maybe if you tell me what you’ve been doing in that supply closet I’ll wiggle a bit.” Roman looks at you quietly, a sly smirk on his lips, still drumming his fingers against the top of his desk as he allows you time to explain yourself. When the silence hangs long enough, he decides to switch gears. He bends down and lifts your leg up onto his lap, escalating those touches of his again. “Nice heels. I like these on you,” he says. 

“Thank you,” you mumble cautiously. Is that it? Is the meeting over? He brought you in here just to tell you that your raise might as well be nothing at all, and then what? He’s turning your foot in his hand, now, and you’re tensing up with his touch. 

“Sure.” Roman says. He doesn’t ask permission when he pulls the shoe off, exposing your foot - he’d never ask permission. With his pointer finger, he traces your skin, starting at your heel, tracing up, up, he watches your toes curl as he follows the curve of each one. He tells you he likes the way your toes are pedicured.

“Roman,” you protest, trying to pull your foot from his grip. Roman ignores you and squeezes your ankle tightly with his other hand as he continues to touch your skin. 

“You’re ticklish,” he says, now tracing the length of the bottom of your foot. You’re wiggling and fighting not to kick him but you do, accidentally. You kick harder than you expected, certainly harder than Roman expected as well. This much is evident when he lets out a surprised noise, a groan of pain, and chuckles at that.  “Alright, alright, don’t hurt me. I’ll stop.” 

Stop tickling you, maybe. But he’s not done touching you, oh not at all. He pulls on your other leg and brings it to his lap, rolls your chair until it’s as close as can be, flush with his legs. He sits your feet on top of the arm rests of his chair and his hands are traveling up your legs now, fingers skating over your kneecaps and you jolt again, one of your shins hit the hardwood of his desk and you suck a sharp breath through your teeth. “You’re ticklish here, too?” Roman asks, circling your knee with his middle and forefingers. His question is answered when you squirm and shimmy in your seat, reaching to pry his hands away as you bite down on your lip to hide the smile that betrays you. “Wow. Sensitive, very sensitive. Are you sensitive everywhere?”

One of his hands is climbing up your thigh now, his fingertips hidden beneath the fabric of your skirt. You look over her shoulder, then hear the click of Roman hitting a button on his remote. Shades descend down the vast planes of his indoor windows, concealing you and Roman in privacy. 

Not that there’s many people in the office, anyway. Your stomach drops and your heart pounds loudly, loud enough that Roman might hear if it weren’t for your heavy breathing, made up of fear, arousal, anticipation. You face Roman again and the sun is setting behind him, there’s not much light on his face and he looks almost like a movie in black and white. Fuck, he’s so sexy like this, sleeves rolled up and his small, crooked smirk. He’s gorgeous, with his longish strands of dark hair, his eyes that flicker between colors of hazel and green, now darkened nearly black. He taps you, “Hey, you. I asked you something.”

“Y-yeah, I’m ticklish,” you stutter.

“Well duh, I know you’re ticklish, look–” Roman reaches behind himself to tickle your foot again, and he catches your ankle when you try to kick him away. Your foot goes right back where he wants it. “I asked if you’re sensitive. Sensitive like, what’re you gonna do if my hand goes up your skirt?”

“Roman, what are you–”

“Nothing you don’t want me to do.” he interrupts. Roman continues, “Maybe my hands aren’t as tied as we thought. I could get you that ten percent, if you’d let me.” 

With one hand drawing lazy patterns on your bare thigh, the other is unbuckling his belt, the sound is unmistakable. He’s palming his bulge through his Calvin Klein briefs, groaning as he does so. Then he pulls his cock out, where it springs up against his tummy. You must look shocked or scared by this, because Roman tells you to relax. “I’m not doing anything. You don’t have to suck me off, I don’t even have to fuck you. I probably will, though. It’s easy.”

“What’s easy?”

“What I’m gonna do to you,” he says plainly. He continues, “If you let me have my way with you, toy with you for as long as I’d like, however I like, I’ll get you your ten percent. Promise. I know it’s like, super off the books, but…more fun this way, I think. And you’d agree too, wouldn’t you?”

“Roman, we’re gonna…we’re gonna get in trouble, Roman,” you caution.  

“But you don’t disagree, though.” 

“We’re going to get in trouble,” you repeat.

“Only if you tattle. And you’re not gonna tattle on me, are you? ‘Cause that would be stupid. You know what’d happen - they’d ask if I harassed you, and you’d say yes, of course, because you know I love to. They’d ask you how long it’s been going on for, da da da. You know. But then–” Roman pushes your knees apart, opening you up wide for him and your skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, “I’ll tell them how you spread your legs for me, how you moaned for me - ‘cause you will. Oh, I’ll make you. And I’ll tell them how you wanted it this way. Always wanted it this way, didn’t you?” he asks. “You can be honest.”

Your body will do nothing if not betray you. You nod, because you’ve fantasized about this. Oh, you’ve fantasized about all of this, about Roman. And they’re never normal fantasies, always the dirtiest and most shameful. Roman fucking you against a window he masturbates on, people below could watch if they wanted. Roman hitting you, hurting you. Teasing you. Making you cry, then kissing away your tears. You’ll squeeze your legs together on the plane when you think of these things, often sitting across from Roman or right next to him. Slip away when you need relief, desperately dance your fingers around your clit. Roman always watches you after you emerge from your hiding place, like he knows, like he can smell it on you.“Yeah, I know. This’ll be fun then. Lotta fun.” 

Roman brings one of your feet to his lips and kisses it, kisses up your ankle and your leg, his stubble brushing and scratching against your skin. Remembering his rule, that he’ll do as he pleases and that you just have to take it, you ask him, “What are you, oh fuck–” you gasp and moan when he sucks on a spot near your inner knee, an area you didn’t even know could feel that way. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he taunts. He kisses your other leg, swirling his tongue in circles on your skin. “Whatever I want, that’s what I’m gonna do to you. Does that answer your question?”  

Roman bends forward, wriggles his hands beneath your skirt and paws at your hips until he hooks his fingers into the fabric of your panties, then pulls them down and off your legs. He admires his work, seeing as they’re already slick with your arousal. “Wet for me already,” he comments, sniffing your panties before tucking them away. You’re embarrassed by that, heat creeps up your neck and paints your cheeks. Roman continues, “But yeah, I don’t know, though, to answer your question. What do you think I’m gonna do to you?” 

“Touch me,” you breathe. You’re not sure if it’s an answer to his question or a demand. Roman smiles at your desperation.

“Well yeah, of course I’m gonna touch you. I’ll touch you more than I touch myself, and you know that’s a lot. You should probably be scared.” 

Roman inches closer, placing one of his hands on top of the back of your chair, caging you in. He has such a way of making you feel so small. A hand sneaks between your thighs, where he first toys with your tuft of curls, dampened by your arousal. “How nice. You shaved for me.”

He dips his fingers between your lips, dragging them through your slickened folds. You’re sighing, your head falling back against your chair as you finally feel him where you’ve been needing him most. You’re so wet, he notices, parting your flesh. Wet enough that as he touches you lightly, just teasing, your cunt makes sticky, lewd noises for him. He dips a finger inside you, circles your clit with his thumb to see what he’s working with. He wants to know how easily you moan, how he can make you whimper. He wants to find out just how sensitive you are really. You’re loud, despite your fighting to keep quiet. Roman hushes you, “Shhhh. Are you always this loud? Or is it just for me?” 

You’re already close and he knows this by the way your clit twitches under his thumb, how your cunt is beginning to pulse and squeeze his knuckles. “Just for me,” he mumbles under his breath. He clears his throat before speaking, “One - one little caveat though, sweetheart, and I think you’ll wanna listen.”

“I’m listening,” you rasp. Roman’s movements never falter, but you’re not even conscious of the way you’re frantically holding his wrist. Don’t stop, don’t stop. 

“If you come, you’re not getting a raise.” 

You lift your head to look at Roman. “What?”

“What?” He mocks you. “Yeah,” he says, “Double or nothing. I’ll double your ask if you’re good and if you don’t come. Or - er…I mean, you’re getting one and a half percent, and a jump to ten would be…” Roman does the math in his head, “Like, six point six repeating. So technically, sextuple or nothing but fucking…whatever. Isn’t that fitting, sextuple?”

“Roman–”

“You come on my fingers, tongue, cock and you get…nothing at all. It’s a game, it’s a fun game. Fun for me, at least.”

Roman continues to tease you. You stare at him for a moment, when the eye contact becomes too intense you drop your eyes to your lap, staring at the fabric of your skirt that dances with his movements. 

“Look–” he says, “You can tap out if you want. Take your one and a half percent and be on your way. You know I’m not gonna force you to do anything.” 

Roman changes the angle a bit, curls his fingers until he finds that spot that makes you gasp and shudder. He hums in amusement as you squirm and bite back a moan. “Roman, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” you pant, “I need a second, Roman.”

Roman stops, to your surprise. You didn’t really expect him to. “Works out, actually, because I need a moment to think about what I’m gonna do to you. On your knees for me, sweetheart, come on,” He reaches to help you move, your slick on his fingertips now on your legs. Once you’re on your knees for him, just how he wanted. He pumps his cock a couple of times and reaches with his free hand to take you by the chin, guiding you to where he wants you. “There you go - good girl. Good girl.” 

He keeps a hand on your head, urging you lower until the tip of his cock breaches your lips. You swirl your tongue around the head a couple of times to tease him, but Roman doesn’t have it. “Nuh-uh, cut that out. No teasing, down you go,” he says, pushing your head down on his cock. “Down. Hand goes here,” Roman reaches for one of your hands and spits in it before guiding it to the base of his cock where he wraps his fingers around yours. He twists your hand for you as he keeps a firm pressure on your scalp, encouraging you to take him deep. You whimper and sputter on his cock, it’s too much yet. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth entirely. “Can’t, Roman, it’s too much,” you whine.

“Oh, come on. Yes you can,” Roman pushes himself into your mouth once more, controlling the pace to his liking though it’s still too much for you and he knows it, he can feel it when he bucks his hips, cock hitting the back of your throat and you gag. “I think you’ll get used to it.”

But you don’t. Roman fucks himself deep into your mouth and your eyes prick with tears, your jaw is so sore already. You wonder if he’s even thinking about what he’s gonna do to you, like he said he would. He doesn’t appear to be, not with the way his eyes are rolling back and his brows are furrowed together as he moans softly. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to put it to use. “Look at you,” he says, holding the side of your face and skating his thumb over your cheekbone, you’d almost call it tender. “God, you’re good at this. I think you’re made for this, don’t you?” You bob your head, trace your tongue along the veins of his shaft and Roman answers his own question, “You are.” 

Your jaw is still sore with the newness of it all, but you’re finally about used to the feeling when Roman pulls you off of his cock. His eyes are bright and excited, he wears a mischievous smirk as he pulls on your swollen, wet lips with his thumb. Roman takes your hands and pulls you to your feet at the same time as he stands up from his chair, he leads you to his couch and sits you on the armrest as he unbuttons your shirt, unhooks your bra. He holds your torso in both of his hands, breathing heavily as they travel up, up, where he cups your breasts, teasing your nipples with his fingers. Pinching and rolling one, flicking the other. “You are sensitive, aren’t you? I bet I could make you come like this. Maybe I’ll try.”

“Roman, please don’t.”

Roman tilts his head in amusement. “Really not your call, but I won’t, sweetheart. Maybe next time. Open your mouth for me.”

“Rome–”

 Roman reaches into his pocket and pulls out your worn panties. He stuffs them in your mouth, the cotton is rough on your tongue but you can still taste your own arousal. “I guess you’re not always so quiet, huh? Didn’t know you could make so much noise. Just had to wiggle it out of you. I’ll keep it in mind,” he comments, loosening his necktie now. Once loosened, he turns you around and presses a kiss to the blade of your shoulder. “This–” he says, tying the silk around your wrists, “Is so you can’t cheat and push me away. You are going to lie here and you are going to take what I give you, and you’re playing by the rules. No coming, I mean - not unless you wanna lose your raise. It is all up to you, my darling.” Roman pushes you down then, your face in the cushions of the couch as he pulls your hips back, putting you right where he wants you. “And don’t try lying to me, either, telling me you didn’t come. I’ll know. I know the noises you make, and I’ve watched you come. You’re very obvious.”

You let out a muffled noise of surprise at that. Roman chuckles. 

“Yeah, I was waiting to see if you’d fess up to what you do on your little supply runs. Been getting off to it actually, you know? Cameras everywhere. You put on a nice little show for me.”

Well, fuck. Cat’s out of the bag. Has been actually, if Roman’s telling the truth, and you know he is.  

“Yeah, no. It was odd. It was last week, and you were in my office doing whatever it is that you do. And then I came in all sweaty from my workout, I don’t know. You gave me this sort of deer in the headlights look and ran off, something about needing new Sharpies. And I just found it odd for just a…just a couple of reasons, you know? Like one, I like Sharpies, those slutty little pens. So I keep them around, and two, you have an iPad. You don’t use Sharpies.” Roman finds the zipper on the side of your skirt, pulls it down slowly before pulling the skirt off of you entirely, tossing it behind him. You’re bare for him now, all exposed and your arms tied tightly behind you. “So I mosey on down to security, and I’m just curious. Naturally, of course. I take a seat and I flip through the channels until I find you in your closet and sure as shit, you’re fucking yourself. And those cameras have mics too, so I hear everything. Roman, oh Roman,” he mocks. “That was my favorite part. All pathetic and desperate for me, music to my ears. I must really do it for you, don’t I? When I’m all sweaty and gross. You’re a freak, huh? My favorite little pornstar, and you didn’t even know it.”

You feel him move behind you, anticipating the feeling of his cock breaching your entrance. But the feeling never comes. Instead, you hear the small crack of his joints as Roman kneels behind you. You let out a muffled gasp when you finally feel him touch you, his big hands squeezing your ass cheeks before he spreads you apart, spitting on your hole. How vulnerable you must feel, Roman wonders. He wonders how much you trust him, if at all. Now you’re gonna have to.

You first feel his tongue circling your tight hole, then he presses a few kisses there, all wet and sloppy. He dips his tongue inside you and you squirm a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. It’s different and unexpected, especially coming from Roman. 

He pulls away from you momentarily, “I know. I promise I’ll get you off soon,” and you feel him smirking against you before swirling his tongue one last time around your hole, and then his lips travel lower. He’s kissing at your slick folds now, dipping his tongue inside your wet heat as he inhales you, your sweet arousal. He traces you with his tongue, just for fun, just for a moment before finding your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud. 

He doesn’t eat you the way he should. He doesn’t savor you, there’s no love in it. Passion, determination, sure - but no love. His tongue and lips on your clit is not something he’s doing for you, it’s something he’s doing to you, for his own amusement. It’s all aggression, all fingernails cutting into your skin under his bruising grip, a relentless assault on your sex. His scruff scratches your inner thighs and rubs you raw, you’ll be feeling him for days after, skin burning under the lather of your lavender scented soap in the shower. And worst of all, you fucking love it. There’s nothing you can do about it, and you fucking love it. Even in your fantasies, all those midday supply closet visits, you always knew it’d be like this. No tenderness or adoration, not from broken Roman and certainly not like this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You’re moaning something but you don’t know what, not with your own panties shoved down your throat. Roman thinks it’s his name, he thinks he can hear the two syllables. He keeps you still, held tight in his grip so that you can’t writhe and grind against his mouth and take control of your pleasure like he knows you’re trying to do. Like Roman said, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna feel his perfect, pointed nose tease that space he just fucked with his tongue. Feel his lips lap at your poor, swollen clit. He eats you voraciously, consumes you whole and you’re beginning to see stars.

Roman intently listens to all those different noises you’re making. Muffled cries and those wet, lewd sounds of your cunt being licked, sucked, kissed, lapped. And he can feel your thighs twitching with your impending release, “Don’t come,” he reminds you in a singsong tone. “I’m not gonna stop this time. Don’t come.”

Your groan of frustration is muffled too, but unmistakable all the same. Only when Roman’s jaw and his tongue begin to tire does he finally relent, pulling away from your body but not before he kisses and bites your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. Roman stands then, pumps his cock a couple of times with his fist before he lines up with your entrance, notching himself inside you. He offers no warning before burying himself in you unceremoniously, splitting you in two. You cry out, balling your bound fists. In a small gesture of kindness, Roman reaches for your hands and squeezes, rubs his thumb comfortingly over your palm as he allows you just a moment to get used to the stretch and the ache. When the tension dissipates and your fingers relax, he pulls out of you all the way and pushes himself right back in, even harder and faster than before. “God, you’re fuckin’ tight.”

He fucks you slow at first, searching for the right pace and angle to make you squirm. You arch your back and keen into the sensation, then quickly pull away as you realize you’ve given him another tell. But Roman’s attentive. With your sweet spot now in mind, he sets a quick pace with a zealous snapping of his hips, his neatly trimmed tuft of pubic hair rubs against your ass. He works a hand between you and his couch, pressing his fingertips against your clit and using his thrusts to stimulate it. He gives you his all and you can do nothing but take it, take him. “Fuck,” he pants, circling your asshole with his thumb before pressing it inside. “Oh, fuck. Tough nut to crack, aren’t you? I’ll get there. I’ll break you, just you wait.”

It’s not easy, and knowing what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s what Roman’s not trying to do that makes it all the more impossible. He’s fucking loud, all whines and groans and swears. And you’ve heard it all before from his mouth, but the way he strings it together has you dizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ followed by a moan and another ‘Fuck’. Heavy breathing, ‘Such a good girl’ and a sharp inhale. Your panties feel extra obnoxious in your mouth now, knowing how much noise he makes himself. Glass houses, you think. Roman pulls out of you and flips you over so you’re face to face with him and then he’s right back at it, entering you once more and thumbing your clit just like he did in the chair. He’s glad he did so, learned what kind of tight circles to paint your clit with to make you moan loudest. 

It’s sensitive and you’re right there, aching for release you know you shouldn’t allow yourself. It’s a constant fight, a push and pull between indulging in your pleasure and trying your hardest to block it out. You can’t quite read his expression when Roman notices your tear stained eyes, but he pulls your spit-soaked panties from your mouth and wipes your wet cheeks. 

“You’re fine. You can take it,” he encourages. He pulls you closer so that you’re face to face, chest to chest, holding you tightly against himself. “It’s a lot, I know. You’re doing good.” 

“Oh, Roman,” you moan, your eyes knit shut as you lean forward and bite into his neck to subdue your cries of pleasure. It helps to stave off your impending release. 

“Oh, you bite hard,” Roman taunts, “Do what you need to do, whatever you think will work.”

It doesn’t work. He continues to round your clit with his thumb as he rolls his hips into yours and you know it and he knows it. Your breaths are shallow, your moans are strangled and you’re squirming. You’re so fucking close. 

“It’s gonna happen, isn’t it? And you can’t do a fucking thing about it, can you?” Roman goads, “You gonna come for me?”

“No,” you whimper. 

“Oh, come on. Just let go. You know I’m gonna get it out of you, one way or another. So quit torturing yourself, just let go for me. Hey–” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, stroking your back with one of his hands and his voice is kind, saccharine. “Just let go.” Roman nods, eyebrows raised as he searches for your confirmation. When you nod back, Roman smiles. He’s got you in the palm of his hand. 

It’s a just few seconds of Roman teasing your clit with those tight, steadied circles as he fucks you deeply. And then you’re there, and god is it intense. You shake and stutter in Roman’s arms, and you’re certain you’re breaking into pieces, he’s just holding you together and thank god for that. Roman’s jaw twitches and he’s about to come undone with you, but he never loses focus on you. You’re gonna give him everything you have and he’s gonna make sure of it. 

“Roman, Roman, Roman,” you cry. “Oh my god, Roman, please.”

“Fuck me,” he hisses. It’s too much and too sensitive as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. He comes with a whine, painting your insides with his hot come before his thrusts slow to a still. Roman pulls out of you slowly, groaning as he does so. His come spills onto the expensive upholstery of his couch, but he doesn’t seem bothered. He’s still close to you as he fumbles with the knot of his necktie holding your wrists together. You can smell him, the fresh sweat and faint cologne. When he unties you, you rub your irritated wrists in your hands, doing your best to process what just happened. You dress yourselves silently, the rustling and swishing of your clothes, the clinking of Roman’s belt buckle are the only sounds in the room.

The ripping up of papers startles you. Roman crumples the shredded papers that discussed your raise and tosses them in his trash can. Dramatic. You watch as he does so, your heart dropping. “Don’t start with the waterworks. You came on my cock, you knew the rules. This is on you,” he says, “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’re fucking fine. Everything’s fine, okay?” 

-

It’s been about two weeks since your encounter with Roman. You’ve avoided him as much as one in your position can do, though it’s not easy. You use a variety of techniques, grey rocking, silent treatment. It doesn’t seem to deter him much. 

Artie sits in his carrier as you pull out your wallet to pay for what’s probably his last treatment. You can’t help but feel so selfish, so consumed by guilt.

“Oh–” the vet’s office receptionist says, “It’s been paid for already. You guys are good to go.”

“Oh no, that can’t be right. Here–” you hand her your card.

But the receptionist doesn’t take it. “It is, actually. There’s a credit on your account.”

“What?”

“Yeah, someone called a couple of weeks ago and put a substantial credit on your account. You’re good for a long time.”

“Who?”

The receptionist shrugs, “Anonymous donor. They left a message though, if that helps.”

“What’d they say?”

“Uhmm,” the receptionist blushes and stutters. Instead of answering you verbally, she turns her monitor around to show you. 

“For my favorite pornstar and her cat. Take care of him. -R”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a nice comment <3 your words keep me motivated.

[a-twistedheartslonging]

Could I ask for courting/relationship headcanons for my pathetic boy Idia in your AU?

Sorry, this took a while.

Man, poor OG Idia already has it hard as a cursed human, he's not the type to make the first move, even with his brother providing him with all the evidence and statistics showing him that you would accept his feelings.

But now we're adding him big a big spider with those courting and mating instincts that conflict with the guy's other anxiety-driven instincts telling him to avoid it all and that everything would go wrong and that you would tell him “Ew no, you're a gross spider that’s blue all over.” and then poke him with a stick.

Most spiders tend to be solitary creatures, they don't live in groups and only come together when it's time to find a mate. It doesn't happen all the time but it’s common for the males to get eaten after mating or even before they have the chance to when their advances are rejected. Now that is for regular spiders but there might be a chance of it if you go up to the wrong person and these guys still have those instincts telling them to be warry thanks to their ancestors. People always say “The worst that can happen is they say no.” But really there's the chance they might say “Ew no” which is way worse. Or the extra way way worse when you are a spider cuz your crush might get freaking aggressive with you and take a bite out of you. You being a little human def ease his worry about the latter, but not the former.

It's later after you guys start to hang out that he starts to be a snarky little shit, who knew such an anxious guy could have so much sass. He’s a weird combination of having issues with self-loathing while also having a big ego. It's one of those times where he starts mouthing off that you do actually try to bite him, he was legit scared for a sec but once he saw those little teeth of yours couldn’t even make a scratch on the exoskeleton on his arm, he gets super freaking smug, and now he’s even more of a shit when teasing you.

With Idia romantic feelings will develop slowly over time after becoming friends though. It's def a new feeling for him, he gives me demi-ace vibes and I think this would be the first time he had this kind of interest in a real person, it was always fictional characters before.

But also I feel like with him it could turn into him thinking these fillings are just how it feels when you have a best friend since he’s only had his brother for all those years and you're the first person outside of his family that he felt this comfortable around and when he actually does these courting behaviors its subconscious and his instincts are kicking in and his brother is actually the one to point it out.

The male of the orb weaver family (Araneidae) and some others court by rhythmically plucking the threads of a web. After the female approaches, he pats and strokes her before mating. I head canon that not only is he able to create webs but they are cool and glowy and he makes a cool hammock for you to chill in sometimes or even hang out with him on one he made for himself…and then without thinking when you're leaning against him and enjoying the soft blue floof of his legs he gives you a few gentle pats and baps with spider paw and Ortho lets out a gasp and startles him. Oh, he gets so embarrassed once Ortho starts asking him about how long he’s been courting you and how he’s so proud that he made the first move despite his anxiety. Hopefully, he does his questioning after you're out of the room.

(Oh, to be patted by one of his cute spooder paws.)

Or perhaps…he pulls a male wolf spider and ends up doing that purr after you say or do something that hits him in those feelings and oh boy, he is so embarrassed when he realizes he did it thanks to your excited reaction to hearing it. Though it hurts his ego a bit when you squeal about how cute it is…I mean…even if he didn't mean to do it, it was supposed to be sexy…still with spiders if you're rejected you either get ignored or attacked…even though he knows better, the inhuman part of his brain is telling him your positive reaction is a “yes” to getting with him which lends to him actually considering that this might actually work out and that Ortho is right. 

(Tbh I don't get why the video says it's creepy, it kind of sounds like bird sounds to me.)

Silk-wrapped gifts and offerings, expect snacks and games. Though admittedly he’s going to give you ones that he wants you to play with him. Beating a boss in co-op counts as a date…right? Right. Best believe he’s gonna be getting you hard-to-get items in game, armor, and whatever else. It’s easy to forget his rich until he gets you some decked-out gaming computer or that handheld you wanted, all wrapped in glowing blue silk of course. Actually, driders giving gifts made of their silk is very much a thing they do but Idia mostly does small simple things, expect to get really cool bracelets and hair ties infused with his scent. He gets so happy and so smug if he sees you wearing them.

I found out recently that another thing some males will do is do sort of a silk-involved message, though I think that is another thing he would do after you guys start dating and not before to...get you in the mood.

The massaging motions of the spider are officially called mate binding. Basically, the male massages the female, so that she'll allow him to mate with her, without killing him before he gets the chance. The male spider releases silk over the back of the female as he massages her. The same study also suggested that it was the feeling of the massage that soothed the female, and not the smell of the silk as some scientists suggested.

NSFW: I just found out that Darwin’s bark spiders figured out they're less likely to get eaten by ladies if they do oral. Do with that info what you may.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

(translator use, Sorry if there are any mistakes in this)

First, I love you, I'm super in love with hyugo and you're one of the few people who made x reader content with him, and the writing is so well done that God. It's beautiful 😭💙

Could I request some headcanons with a shy reader? Just like the one you did with Geo but with Hyugo?

Reticence (Hyugo x Shy! MC/Reader)

Thank you for being so patient with me Anon and @cuentademeri *quietly despairs and prays for forgiveness* and for reading my work! I had fun writing this (however, reminder that I am someone who isn't even remotely shy,so if the shyness part seems inaccurate, well, I tried). Hope you enjoy! :D

P.S Thank you for the compliments. <33 They're appreciated.

A/N: Btw if I take longer to answer requests, it's not because I gave up on them, it's simply the fact I don't want to make this blog quantity > quality. Also an original work for TKATB shall be out soon, so uh rejoice.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Reticence: an unwillingness to do something or talk about something, for example because you are nervous or being careful.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hyugo first met you, he simply thought you were quiet, like Sol. Until he noticed you essentially never talked.

He wasn't concerned per se, more so curious. Did you feel awkward with him and Sol? Why even sit if you weren't gonna chat?

Tries to befriend you, is the type to wave to you and grin if he sees you around.

Is honestly a tad surprised when he finds out you're shy and reserved.

Doesn't have any issue with it though.

Will make more of an effort to chat you up. Words of affirmation and aggressive positivity galore. "The girls keep saying I'm hideous. I don't believe them but..." "You're not." "Yeah but-" "No buts! Those are for sitting! And I'm going to make sure said people who called you that won't be able to comfortably sit ever again!"

When you star talking more, he's a very happy man.

Likes it when you tell him things, doesn't matter what. He just enjoys hearing you chat about nothing.

He'll ask you at some point why you are shy. He's never been shy so he was curious.

You just explain you're simply not as outgoing as a lot of other people are.

But if you feel shy partially due to appearance woes? He'll tell you you look gorgeous! (He means it he just hasn't realised the extent of said words).

Oh, but if you get bullied? Doesn't matter for what, Hyugo'll fight those responsible (Sol's got too much on his plate already *sob*). Will stand up for you if conflicts arise, mf won't even bat an eye.

He honestly doesn't understand why people target you. You're sweet, cute, even funny when you start crawling out of your shell.

He's honestly angry about it.

He doesn't even fully understand why he feels so strongly about you, nor why he's so eager to see you.

Until one day it hits him. Hard.

It's not like he couldn't see it coming, he suspected it deep down, but refused to admit it.

He has too much shit on his shoulders to catch feelings, no matter how angelic or beautiful or smart you may be.

Alas, his heart has other plans, because it eventually will decide to beat solely for you.

Y'all are the classic "Shy x Outgoing" trope.

He's fine with it. He gets to boost your self-confidence, get you to open up bit by bit, until he's got tens of files on you; with only the necessities of course: - Where you were born - When? What time? - Parents? Carers? Financial situations (doesn't know about the debt teehee) - You get the point

Asks you out right after graduation if he's alive then anyway, to which you say yes. Obviously.

Becomes a very content guy, literally spoils you more than a king ever could. He's rich af.

Will hold your hand in public if you're shy or anxious, is okay with also not holding you if you wish although he will pout at the latter with his plump fucking lips.

Also boosts your confidence, eventually you and him end up having the most absurd, comical banter known to man.

Hyugo is am 11/10 bf, will cater for you, and will never tire of ensuring you're comfortable, content and cordial with him.

And you most definitely are. <33

[taikk0]

I love your self ship Pomni art! Question: not to sound judgmental, but why do you love her so much? (The way you draw her makes her look so pretty AAAA)

I... I don't know.

I just came across the first teaser for TADC and something clicked in my brain, I just had no idea what it was at the time.

I just saw this CREATURE and thought they were very cute and charming and appealing.

"I am fond of *him I don't really care about this show but I care about this thing. I wanna see *him again soon."

*him as in, I had no idea Pomni was a girl.

Then eventually I ended up reluctantly watching the pilot which turned into a hyperfixation, and THEN I found myself thinking and talking about Pomni A LOT. It was usually made up of me appreciating her and being quite fond of her character, but THEN. I STARTED TO REALIZE I STARTED TALKING ABOUT HER A LITTLE TOO MUCH.

I STARTED MAKING FUN OF HER ON PURPOSE. BULLYING THIS FICTIONAL CHARACTER ESSENTIALLY. JUST TO MAKE SURE MY FRIENDS DON'T CATCH ONTO HOW MUCH SHE'S CONSTANTLY ON MY MIND. THIS WENT ON FOR MONTHS.

THEN. SOMETHING HAPPENED.

FEBRUARY 6. 2024. 3:34 PM. AFTER MONTHS OF TALKING ABOUT HER NON-STOP. I HAD A REVELATION.

I genuinely thought I could just say and admit it and just move on with my life, but I genuinely have no clue why Pomni had such a grip over me. It's been EIGHT MONTHS.

I have zero explanation as to why Pomni is attractive to me. I am actually aroace so I don't really find myself latching onto anyone for any of their qualities in the first place, but there are a lot of things i love about Pomni.

She's a good person, just a bit of a mess. Pomni is kind and caring even if she doesn't always know what to say or how to say it, but she tries anyway. It's the heart that counts. She also takes no shit, she may seem anxious but she knows that she is allowed to have her own thoughts and feelings, she's not afraid to be judgemental, get angry. She's a person and not an archetype, and i love her so so much for that. She's also really pretty... just looking at her makes me smile, get a little flushed even.

But I guess all these aren't exactly reasons why I love her, they're just one of the many things that I love as a part of her. I just love Pomni no matter what, whatever she does.

I can't really put into words why she makes me feel the way I do about her. I just find so much joy, comfort, and warmth when it comes to her. I know it's silly, it's just a fictional character and I know that, but she is still very special to me nonetheless.

[bridgertonbabe]

Signing off.

I never really thought I'd ever write a post like this and to be perfectly honest I feel a bit cringe for even making a thing out of this but I felt it necessary to address those of you who follow me and my writings.

In the last month I have been suffering severely from anxiety, waking up to what feels like a ball of dread clutching at my heart and being unable to shift it for the better part of the day. It's all come to a head as of late because I've reached a crossroads in my life where I've realised just how unhappy and unfulfilled I am. Truth to be told I really don't have any aspect in my life that I am happy with and for years I've dismissed myself and my own desires for the sake of others to the point where I have no self worth, no self confidence, and I just feel like a shell of a person. Realising that I can't go on like this, that I can't live the life I aspire to without sorting my mental health out, I've taken the first steps in getting counselling and in going to the doctors to be put on anti-depressants.

While I'm already starting to feel better, I've decided it's in my best interests to take some other steps going ahead; which is I'm logging off this account.

Don't get me wrong, this account has brought me fulfillment in the last two and a half years and I've had so much fun interacting with so many of you but as of late I've become very disengaged with Bridgerton. It's one of several of my hyperfixations which I have become anxious with in the last few weeks, in part because they are what I used to immerse myself in as a means to distract myself from a dissatisfying existence, but now I've decided to make a change in my life for the better, everything that I once used to bury my head in the sand has now essentially given me the ick. Bridgerton is just now one of several things that I feel the need to distance myself from in order to fully focus and concentrate on bettering my mental health as well as getting what I want out of life.

As much as I've taken pride in writing because of Bridgerton, my dream has always to one day publish a book of my own and I need to refocus my energies on writing my own original stories to have the chance of maybe being able to make that dream a reality. I would have so dearly loved to have been able to complete a whole host of WIPs (would have also loved to have been able to just focus on one story at a time but c'est la vie) and I can only apologise to anyone who's been hoping for an update from any of them.

You will still be able to read all of my works on AO3 (plus I've restored a couple I had previously hidden from view), and I won't be deleting this tumblr so all of my drabbles and various posts will still be here for you to browse and read at your leisure.

Though I'm stepping away from this account, I don't necessarily know if this will be forever. I might well end up in a better place mentally at some point and return with a healthier state of mind where I can enjoy Bridgerton again, and I would never rule out contributing writings again - however as it stands, I don't want to promise anything and taking care of my mental health is my main priority for now and the foreseeable future.

I also just wanted to take the opportunity to thank every single person who has ever liked, reblogged, and interacted with me since I joined. I had never previously shared any of my creative writing online and thought it would be nice if even a single person somewhere vaguely liked anything I had to share - but over the last two and a half years I've been given such a boost from the amount of people who have reached out and commented on any one of my silly writings. I don't think you'll ever understand just how much it has meant to me and the love and appreciation will stay with me forever.

That about does it, so thank you all for everything. I wish you all a lifetime of health and happiness.

Signing off,

Shinnie

xxx

[giantisms]

i have this very specific brainrot for a story idea that i might turn into an oc story it's driving me crazy

so imagine a guy. normal average-sized human person, right. maybe they live a mundane life- maybe not exactly. and one day something happens - a magical mishap, a science experiment gone wrong that they were bystander or a part of - that made them giant sized

they wake up in a secluded forest for plot related reasons and start freaking out because suddenly everything is so, so much smaller, and by all means this shouldn't be possible. giants don't exist, neither should humans grow to that size, square cube law and all. they start walking around, accidentally wreaking havoc around because they're absolutely not used to being this big. trees start falling, animals flee. this only makes them panic further, until they hear footsteps

another giant

they came to see what the commotion was about because even for them it was loud, too loud for comfort unless they want to be seen by humans. the newly-turned giant freaks out even more, initially assuming the other giant was also in the same situation as them, until they realize that this one is an actual-giant (which shatters their worldview and does less to ease their worries)

the actual-giant also quickly realizes that this klutz is, in fact, a human that somehow grew to this size. and they're very apprehensive about this because no matter their current size, this human now knows giants exist which could prove catastrophic. but if they leave them on their own their destructive behavior will make MORE humans aware of their existence. so they decide to help, show them the ropes on how to interact with the world at this size, and maybe they can figure out what to do from there

the giant might not be too fond of humans (there must be a reason why they keep hidden from humanity, after all) but eventually grows fond of their new friend who shares their perspective on the world. and likewise for the human, who literally gets to see everything from a new perspective. they're having such a great time together, but one thing still looms over them - having the human turn back to normal

it's inevitable for the human to find a way to revert whatever happened to them - they still have friends and family waiting for them. but that makes them anxious over the new friendship. would they still be able to come and visit the giant? or would it be too risky? how would their dynamic shift, with the size difference suddenly becoming oh so real and not a hypothetical? and the giant shares the same anxiety too - how would their friend look at them once they'll be no bigger than their hand? would they even want to stay friends anymore, or was the giant just a means to an end? would they even keep the secret of giants hidden or would they break that trust?

[the-plantman-is-queer]

If you cut me open I bleed adrenaline instead of blood now

[uncanny-tranny]

This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?

At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.

I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.

[thepoisonroom]

i know modern dating is a hell because i once went on a date with this lady and when we were about to kiss i pulled back and went "oh sorry i thought we were a vase for a second" and she didn't like that in the least

[theswedishpajas]

The man truly can’t take a genuine compliment 🙄

[tariah23]

Man, I still remember participating in one of the many jjba zines that I took part in and how my piece was placed as the first page (for the second time) and how one of my mutuals/artists that I’ve always admired, hit me with the “oh… you’re on the front page again… 😅…” like man, that kind of killed me lmfao. I never got over it like man, what was that about.

[sherlock-is-ace]

the imposter syndrome i feel every time i even slightly think i might be autistic is insane, specially for a person who highly relates to the lived experiences of people who are professionally diagnosed.

Like I was just watching this one youtuber, and she was talking about very specific examples in her life and childhood where she saw autistic traits that made her realize she was autistic and then seek a diagnosis and then get one, and everything she was saying was like she was describing my life! But yeah no, I can't be autistic tho