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thebatfamfanatic · 3 years

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Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #dc comics #robin!jason

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jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav · 3 years

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Obey Me: The Brothers Accidentally Trigger an Abused MC (Beelzebub) (6/7)

Disclaimer: I’m not an expert on abuse or mental health. I’m not portraying how one should respond to these situations, only how I think the characters might. Abuse and trauma in particular are very complex topics, and people respond in all sorts of ways to them, and sometimes it gets really bad on all sides.

I can only draw from my personal experiences as well as those of people who have shared their stories or who I’m close with. There’s no one narrative of abuse and how it affects someone, so what I’m familiar with might not be what you’re familiar with. Let’s try and all be respectful of each other.

Content Warnings: Heated arguments, reference to past abuse, parental abuse, trauma response, breaking down in tears, this is quintessential hurt/comfort y’all, buckle up

Kinda cheating for the twins unfortunately! (In the sense that I’m gonna rely heavily on canon events) In Beel’s case it’s because we’ve only ever seen him lose his cool about either food or family, and for Belphie, well… you’ll see.

Gaaaah tumblr’s stupid new thing where if you resize the tab it wipes your post and switches between mobile and desktop versions made this SUCH a bitch to edit, but here it is! Once again, thank you all so much for your patience! I’ve learned not to make promises about when the next part will come out, but we’re almost done! It’s just Belphie left, then I get to the other requests!

To clarify, the initial dialogue in this scene is not mine, but comes from Lesson 4 of the game and is based on events from Lessons 4 and 5.

Lucifer (X) Mammon (X), Leviathan (X), Satan (X), Asmodeus (X), Beelzebub (you are here), Belphegor (X)

“Now what do we have here?” Mammon soliloquises. “Looks like a custard.”

MC has absolutely no idea what possessed them into letting him drag them to the kitchen.

“Mammon, are you sure we should-”

“Here, eat this,” he cuts MC off, handing them a cup of custard. “I need an accomplice. I don’t wanna be the only one in trouble.”

“In trouble?!” They look down at the custard lid. A note is firmly taped to it.

Property of Beelzebub. You eat it, you die.

They gulp. They really shouldn’t be touching this, what if…

“You’ve gotta be seriously brave to eat this custard here.” Mammon snatches the dessert back and waves it around. “If you can do that, I’ll admit that you’ve got guts.”

I won’t have any guts if Beelzebub finds out, MC thinks. They know the consequences for stealing food. I don’t care if you haven’t eaten all day, you DO NOT touch that fridge, understand?

“So you’re gonna do it, right? What am I sayin’? Do it. That’s an order.”

Then again, they don’t know what Mammon’s capable of either.

Go on, do it. You want to waste food so bad? Go in the trash and fish it out like the animal you are!

“...Okay, I’ll eat it...”

“There we go.” Mammon’s grin is wolfish as he holds out a spoon for them.

It tastes… oh wow. It’s very good custard. They almost want to go back for another-

“You did it!” Mammon shouts, and MC flinches so hard they nearly drop the container. “You totally ate Beel’s custard! I saw ya!”

Now you’ve done it, MC! You know how mad our parents are gonna be when they get back!

I… I had to… I didn’t want to… But it had been days...

“Shhh-!”

“Great, now I’ve got an accomplice. If you ate his stuff too, that means we’re in this boat together!” He returns his attention to the fridge. “So, my turn. Let’s see if I can find anything else good in here. I’ve got a feeling there’s probably something nice hiding back here in this corner-”

A shadow looms over the pair. MC’s blood goes cold. They’ve been caught again.

“D’AH! Beel!” Mammon squeaks. “Wh-What’s the big idea sneakin’ up on me like that? How long have you been there…?”

“Did you eat my custard?” Oh no no no no no. “Did you actually eat my CUSTARD?! Answer me, Mammon!”

Who ate it? Well? Answer me! Or none of you are eating tonight.

“N-Now wait a second, Beel! Lemme explain! There’s a good reason for-”

“You did, didn’t you…?”

Pink flames envelop the Avatar of Gluttony as part of his human illusion falls away. An intimidating pair of sharp horns curl around his head and massive fly’s wings buzz angrily on his back.

“You… ate… my… CUSTARD!”

“Uh-oh!”

As Mammon attempts to escape Beelzebub’s wrath, all MC can do is remain perfectly still, the custard container clutched tightly to their chest. They’ve. Been. Caught.

It’s ridiculous. A small, hysterical part of MC laughs at the absurdity of being caught between two of the most powerful demons in Hell, squabbling over custard and chasing each other around the kitchen. A choked noise escapes them instead. The custard turns sickeningly sweet in their mouth.

The paralysis is broken when Mammon goes sailing through the kitchen wall. Is that-?

A hole in their wall, just above their head. Screaming voices, crying, begging, accusing. They’ve been caught, and now they will be punished.

Footsteps approach MC, and a figure stands towering over them, so much taller, he wouldn’t even have to lay a hand on them for them to be scared, but he will, he will, he’ll hit them again, again and again and again and-

“MC-”

“PLEASE DON’T HIT ME!” They hold up the custard towards Beelzebub, their limbs confused between the desire to return the offending dessert and protect their face.

The Avatar of Gluttony is almost offended by the outburst, until he hears Mammon groan and attempt to get up, shifting some of the rubble before collapsing once again. Okay, maybe he doesn’t have room to be offended right now.

He plucks the container from MC’s vice-like grip, the difference in strength between the two so great that he doesn’t feel their resistance. Oh, it’s almost completely untouched. Maybe he overreacted… Then again, it is Mammon.

...It’s MC’s room that connects to that wall, isn’t it?

Beelzebub opens his mouth to apologize to MC about their wall, to assure them that they’ll figure out a place for them to sleep until it’s repaired, but they’re already gone, sprinting off further into the House of Lamentation.

Did he scare them that bad…?

After the three hours of lecturing that ensued, MC isn’t sure if notifying Lucifer was, in fact, the best idea. While Mammon and Beelzebub had seemed bored, annoyed even, they were barely able to stay on their feet by the end of it. Perhaps they’re still exhausted from their sprint to Lucifer’s study, as well as… other factors.

Lucifer calls their name sternly, as though he has done so several times already. They start and straighten up, but can’t bring themself to quite meet the demon’s eyes.

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh…” they say. “...Sorry...I didn’t-”

“Are you sure you’re comfortable staying in Beelzebub’s room?” They don’t reply, and something in Lucifer’s expression softens. “You were quite distressed when you came to me. If my brothers have done something to upset you, I need to know. Your wellbeing is a crucial part of the exchange program.”

MC laughs humorlessly. “You mean other than destroying my room, I’m guessing.”

The Avatar of Pride falters almost imperceptibly, disguising his surprise with a cough. “Yes, other than… the collateral damage.”

“...Yeah,” they eventually say. “Uh, yes, I’ll stay with Beel until my room is fixed. It’s fine.”

“Wonderful. You’re free to go.” He promptly leaves, muttering about calling the construction worker so soon after the last time.

While MC has a feeling that Beel would be completely fine not addressing the Custard Incident so long as they don’t treat him any differently, they feel the need to explain themself for both their sakes. They tell Beelzebub about their upbringing, about how controlling their parents were when it came to food, and how they’d have to sneak meals more often than not. The punishments they faced when caught doing this.

Beel is horrified and feels incredibly guilty upon finding out what he inadvertently forced MC to relive. He once again assures them that he knew it was Mammon who talked them into eating his custard and that he doesn’t really hold it against them. In fact, from then on, the Avatar of Gluttony invites them on his frequent “snack runs” (which, for Beel, consist of an amount of food MC would normally call a family meal) and personally makes sure they’re eating enough regularly.

One day, MC comes back from a long afternoon studying at RAD and nearly panics all over again at the sight of the kitchen. Saucepans, bowls, half-empty containers, and all sorts of utensils litter the room, not to mention a healthy coating of sweet-smelling fluids. At the centre of this mess is none other than Beel, who smiles and waves upon noticing them, sending more flecks of custard to the floor.

He hands them a container of custard, complete with a lining of various fruits around the edges. On its lid is a note: Property of MC.

It’s very good custard.

“...I…” They can’t. Not if that will happen again. They shake their head, the tears threatening to return.

Lucifer holds back a sigh and nods. “Very well. We’ll find other accommodations until your room is repaired. Perhaps Mammon will get his wish after all…”

Beel doesn’t understand why the human is avoiding him. At first he thought they were still mad about the whole going-on-a-rampage-and-destroying-their-room thing, but they’ve since forgiven Mammon for causing that, so that can’t be it. He keeps returning to the thought that it was something about him, that he scared them so bad they don’t feel safe being around him. Did they think he would try and eat them?

That’s not entirely unfair, he thinks. Especially considering they’re a human in a house with a bunch of demons.

But they aren’t scared around anyone else. Not Satan’s propensity for fatal grudges, not Mammon’s recklessness, not Lucifer’s intimidating presence, not Asmo or Levi’s volatile mood swings… It was just him.

Because he’s just a useless glutton.

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me! beelzebub #shall we date: obey me #mine #beelzebub #my writing

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thotly-thoughts-101 · 2 years

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Unwanted Pining

Summary: Mykaelis North, a young trans man in the city, except its not the city he knows. It's New York from Sam Rami's Spider-Man movies. One of his favorite film franchises. The issue is, Mykaelis is from 2022, not 2002, which happens to be the year he was born. So now he's an adult in a time full of technology that he has no idea how to use, all while being the unfortunate recipient of affection. Working in Oscorp for a boss who takes an uncomfortable interest in him, and a friend who has become an unfortunately accurate conspiracy theorist. Kae however, has his heart set on his idol and guilty pleasure, Otto Octavius, who finds this unfortunate protagonist endearing and intelligent, yet incredibly dense. As always, shit can and will go wrong in this turn around romance, full of wit, humor, and Kae being awkward as all fuck.

Pairings?: Otto x Kae, Norman x Kae

Warnings: Language, drugs, fire, food/eating, mentions of death, night terrors, Norman is kinda creepy, conspiracies, tumblr is real here, fax machines.

A/n: Hiya! I'm the author of Unwanted pining, this is an 18+ story, as it covers some mature themes as the story progresses. Kaelis is a self insert and this fic is pure therapy for me while I navigate my life. Likes, reposts comments and asks are always appreciated, keep 'em appropriate and constructive, bullying and harassment will just get you blocked.

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCING THE MODERN PROTAG. ITS ME, IM THE PROTAG

Multi universe traveling sucks ass, I know this. How? Well I’m not from this universe, superheroes aren’t real in my world, unless you look in movies or comic books. But this, this was a spiderman universe. Tobey Miguire, if I am thinking correctly. Which meant only one thing… Doctor Octopus, and the Green Goblin, if this was following No way home, they might still be alive. That or this is all before those events and none of the original events have happened yet.

I hummed while I ate my three dollar hot dog. Who knew that New York street food was so expensive? I sure as hell didn’t, I’m just some trans boy with dyed hair and no way to have a life, unless I got into the hero industry, or the villain industry. However, both occupations required more smarts and physical capabilities than I was able to produce. Maybe I could be a street performer, read poetry or something? It wasn’t my worst idea. But it certainly wasn’t my best.

I was disrupted from my thoughts by a harsh shove as some guy ran past me, making me drop my food, “Hey!” I shouted, hands up in frustration, “What the fuck man?!”

He didn’t even respond, but people kept running past me. Scowling I turned around to see whatever was causing such a raucous. With a dim expression that could have only radiated boredom, I watched a glowing copper ball roll to my feet. Internally, I was thrilled, an opportunity to live out my protestor dreams. I picked up the pumpkin bomb and threw it into the air with all the aggression a wimpy looking person like me could. By that I meant, that bitch was gone, it was just in the air, and it exploded, to no effect, as no people, or goblins, for that matter, were within the blast range.

I, however, was left to face a hovering Goblin, and Spider-man, staring at me. “What?” I asked, still pretty pissed that I no longer had any more food, but I feigned innocence, “I’d always wanted to do that, who was I to ignore the impulse to yeet?”

“Yeet?” Spiderman responded, “That’s a new one.”

“What exactly does it mean to yeet?” Goblin asked, tilting his oversized helmet in a way that really only reminded me of a puppy.

“You know, to throw something really fast,” I smiled, it definitely looked forced, “There is Kobe, for accuracy and yeet for speed, and to take something really fast is yoink.” I was elaborating too much, wasn’t I? But at least I had halted the fighting for a time to explain a universal and time difference, I guess.

Spider-man seemed to perk up at the word yoink, “I know that last one!” He paused, “but that doesn’t explain why you threw a pumpkin bomb in the air.”

I blinked, a little bit faster than I intended, “I wasn’t just…you know, going to let it kill me.”

“So you threw it?” The Goblin’s voice sounded more like Norman Osborn by now, maybe I had defused the fight with my other universal slang and trauma response, “Are you insane?”

Oh my gods, was he aware how ironic that was?

I shook my head, “I just wanted to live out that one fantasy from seeing riots on TV.”

And at that I ran, using what little ability I had left over from cross country and my idiodic desire to climb stuff to join the swarm of people watching from a distance. I watched the two masked beings stare at each other before the Green Goblin flew off, presumably to go back to his big ass penthouse and let Norman rest off the confusion. Spider-Man however, webbed off in the other direction and the crowd disbursed, leaving me standing in the street.

Maybe I could try out that hero shit. But first, to find out if I had been swapped out, and if I even existed.

—

Though some weird fanfic trope bullshit, I had apparently been a missing person for like, three years. They did let me collect the reward, which was a bonus, but I did have to explain the whole transgender thing to my parents, who were still married, which I don’t recall them being married, but whatever, healthy marriage pog? I think they were only accepting because they were thrilled to have their kid back, I did choose to stay in New York though.

Why did I do that?

One, I kinda liked the danger, and who was I kidding, in my own universe I was probably going to seek out the son of a mob boss or some shit like that.

(haha… you know who you are)

But job opportunities were booming in the city, during normal hours I worked as a receptionist for Oscorp, to keep an eye on the action, of course. And off hours, I went about salvaging junk parts and roadkill. It was a good life for me and my ever growing cluster of plants that were taking up my single room apartment.

Norman Osborn never died, which means this was the NO WAY HOME ark, where everyone got cured of whatever made them into who they are.

I mainly found myself keeping alone, knowing that either way, Doc Ock was still bound to die. He was my favorite from the movies, and his redemption arc was so important to me.

Years passed, and the doctor did die, his fusion reactor going down with him in the ocean. As one does when they are in mourning, I dressed in my most work appropriate Victorian dandy clothes. I really had no shame in showing how I mourned. It had been roughly three years since I had been thrown into this universe, and I wasn’t about to just change my whole lifestyle.

Today was no different, save for the fact that I was now standing in the elevator to see the man in charge. I adjusted my vest, fully expecting to be reprimanded for my choice in dress for a work day. Rather, I was greeted by the much older man with a smile.

“Mr. North, thank you for coming in today,” he shook my hand with a strange sort of energy, “come in, have a seat, coffee?”

I found myself sitting in Norman Osborn’s office, shaking my head politely, “No thank you sir… you wanted to speak to me?”

He nodded, donning a serious expression as he sat down, “Yes, Mykaelis, I had noticed you taking a special interest in Dr. Octavius’s work and his…accident, no?”

I nodded, “Yes, well, I can explain sir, Dr. Octavius presented a fascinating case on the subject of clean energy and his work with the actuators could be used– if to a less extreme degree– to help amputees or those who need physical aid to overcome obstacles that exist in an ableist society… I was just curious, if anything.”

I could feel his gaze on me as he spoke, “I see,” he paused, “Well, I would like to offer you a new position, if you are interested.”

“That depends on the job, sir.”

“You would be archiving Dr. Octavius’s items, from his abandoned workshop in the harbor, his office, the police, and his home, you would be housing and cataloging them in what used to be his research office in Oscorps main building, here.”

I thought about it, I swear I did, but I only had one question, “What’s the pay?”

Norman laughed, well, it was more of a cackle, “of course, you would be paid by the hour until I know if I would like to keep you as an archivist, but how does $45 an hour sound?”

And here I was thinking he would be skimping on me, “That sounds like a deal to me Mr. Osborn.”

“You can just call me Norman,” He slid the official document to me, “sign here, and if anyone gives you trouble, send them to me.”

I grazed the documents before signing my life away to salvage the remains of the life of a man I only knew through film, “Of course sir.”

#spiderman #otto octavius #Mykaelis North #otto x reader #Trans reader #trans masc #otto x trans!reader #i don't have testosterone #otto x Kaelis #Norman #harry osborn #slowburn #spiralling decent #i started this like a month ago and it scares me

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venushasvixens · 3 years

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Ch. 6 Confliction - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

[A/N] I really want to give a huge, huge thank you to @tebdundy on tumblr for editing and dealing with my constant check ups and stuff, you are so amazing for helping me. It means a whole lot. You can find more of me on instragram, wattpad, and AO3 (under the same username). Okay, onto the chapter!

WARNING: a lot of angst, rejection

Your ship was on fire. Every belonging, every single thing you had worked so hard for was gone. Your guns, clothes, even appliances you had never given a second thought, gone. And it hit you like a shot. The moment you took in that your ship was on fire, you shut down. Your mind began to wander. What did I do to deserve this? Why is this happening to me?

The next thing you could remember was Spike shaking your shoulders to snap you back to reality. You struggled to form a response. You tried to open your mouth, give some indication that you could feel and see him. In reality, the only thing you could really feel was a dull ache in your spine, each vertebrae mounting with an odd, uncomfortable pain.

The shock was setting in.

You blinked, eyes glassy as you watched firefighters put your ship out of her misery. There was no noise. You couldn't feel your fingertips, your face. You couldn't feel anything. Just that dull ache creeping up your spine.

Thoughts spiraled through your aching head, moving so quickly you could hardly keep up. It felt like you were at war with yourself, trying to keep yourself conscious and cognizant of the situation, while you sank deeper and deeper into your head.

This is just a small hiccup.

Just an obstacle that needed to be conquered, a hurdle you needed to jump over.

This is all your fault, you’ll never bounce back.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid.

You always ruin everything for yourself.

You might as well give up now.

There’s no coming back from this one.

You’re a disappointment.

You’ve failed.

It ate you up like a starving monster devouring a poor soul who crossed its path. Dark tendrils of shame, anger, and sadness weaved into your head, wrapping around your mind and tightening with every passing second. You were going to drown.

Push it down. Push it down. Grieve later. Think now. Grieve later. Think now.

You needed to figure out what you were going to do next. You needed to get out of your head. You desperately tried to claw your way out of this state. Taking a deep breath, you tried to make sense of the chaos around you.

You were sitting on the ground, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You felt the cold stone of the dock under your legs, felt the itchiness of the thick wool wrapped around you. You watched as Jet ran over to Spike, shouting over the sounds of panic that had flooded your head just moments before. Spike was staring at you, his face riddled with concern. You heard him call your name. You didn’t respond.

It was usually so hard to read him, to figure out what he was feeling. But now, it was so incredibly clear. You saw the emotions flashing in his eyes as he called for you again. Loss, guilt, despair, mania, heartbreak.

You felt Jet’s strong hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Hey kid, you okay?" He said, his brows furrowed.

You swallowed. Do not cry. Do not cry. Wait until you're alone. Push it down.

"I think...I think— a glass of water."

"How much do you have?"

"About 200,000 woolong."

"Well, that ain't much."

"Well, I wasn’t expecting to lose everything I own."

You sipped your coffee slowly as you, Spike and Jet discussed a solution to your giant, unavoidable problem. No matter how much you told them that you were okay and could take care of yourself, they insisted on helping you. Deep down, you appreciated it, because you definitely weren’t okay and wouldn’t be able to take care of yourself, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself.

You picked at the eggs on your plate, imagining sleeping in your own bed right now. Wearing your favorite shirt. Eating breakfast in your small kitchen. Watching the morning news in your room. Maybe have someone with you, showing him everything you owned like an excited child because you were so proud of how far you came from your first bounty to now. Things you’ll never be able to do again.

You felt silly and materialistic, mourning the loss of your belongings. But when you worked so hard for something you wanted for so long, building it up over the years, and losing it all in seconds? It's very hard to not mourn.

You had tried to pack light, to not become attached to material possessions. That was one of the first things that you were told by other bounty hunters. When you had first considered entering this god-forsaken profession, you sought out the help of any bounty hunter you came across, trying to glean any useful knowledge from those more experienced than you. You got too comfortable and started to ignore that piece of advice, and now you’re crying over some clothes and dishes.

But your keepsakes, your souvenirs. Ties to your troubled past. Memories of old friends, places, and happy times. Gone, burnt to a crisp.

"How much is a night stay here in town?" You spoke up, interrupting Spike and Jet’s bickering.

"You don't even want to know. The further you go into the city, the worse the rates are. I looked at a couple of places, and it does not look good." Jet replied, taking a sip from his mug.

"And staying on the streets isn't too good either," Spike muttered.

"Wasn't planning on it, but thanks for the advice." You snapped back.

The tension was thick in the air between you and Spike. Maybe it was because of your interrupted intimacy from the previous night, or the fact that neither of you had slept for the past 24 hours. But you couldn't understand why he was taking his frustration out on you. You hadn’t planned for your ship to burn to ash. You didn’t want to be a burden.

"I have a suggestion. Well, more of a proposal." Jet said.

You perked up. "And what's that?" Even before Jet could say anything, you already felt guilty about it.

"You can stay with us on the Bebop until you find your feet again."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

"Do what now?!" Spike hissed softly.

"But, "Jet held up his hand to Spike, who sighed loudly, annoyed. "I have a few conditions."

It kind of pissed you off how Spike was reacting to all of this. Actually, kind of was an understatement. It really pissed you off, almost offended you on how he was acting. Just a few hours ago, he was desperate to get into your pants, and now he was throwing a hissy fit at the thought of you living on the Bebop. Isn't this a good thing, you being able to spend more time together?

"Just contribute to the Bebop. Whenever you cash in a bounty, set some aside for fuel, food, all that good jazz. Maybe cook dinner sometimes, or clean the bathroom. Other than that, don’t worry about it." Jet said.

A cloud of suspicion settled across your thoughts.

"That's it?" You asked, “Are you sure?”

Jet chuckled. “There’re other rules, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have a feeling you know how to respect other people’s spaces and belongings. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

You glanced at Spike, who was leaning back, staring out the window. He met your gaze, eyes unreadable once again. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He felt like an entirely new person, one who just wanted you to piss off and leave him to his business. You tried to shrug off his sudden coldness, but it bothered you. It stung.

The walk back to the Bebop wasn't too bad, but trying to initiate a conversation with Spike was difficult. All he did was grunt in response, a few "oh yeah”s and “huh”s thrown in for good measure. You hoped it was because he was tired, and not that he was pissed off that you were going to be invading his space.

The guilt was heavy on your shoulders. You certainly weren’t a freeloader, but you couldn't help but feel like you had already overstayed your welcome. And you haven’t even stepped foot on the ship yet. You didn't want Spike to be distant from you. Even though you had just met him, you wanted him to be closer to you than anyone else. You wanted to reach out to him, hold onto him and never let him go. Instead, he was pushing you away.

You weren’t good with rejection. Rejection defined who you were today and had been a driving factor to almost everything in your life. You had managed to take ahold of those haunting feelings and build them into a hard shell to protect yourself, vowing to never show your vulnerability or true feelings. You had pushed the old version of you so deep down that it would never escape. You had been doing so well, but the last few days had shown you that the hard work you put into being a completely emotionless bitch was all for nothing.

Jet was going into an extensive explanation of the ship, where you could take a shower, where your room was. He explained that the Bebop was once a fishing ship from Ganymede, and how he had fixed it up to be a high-tech, fully functional ship of today (his words, not yours).

"She operates well when treated right. However, some of our crew members would say otherwise." Jet grumbled. "Speaking of, did Faye tell you-"

"I haven't seen Faye since two days ago. Her ship was still gone, the last I saw." Spike muttered, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Besides, why do you care?"

Jet held up his hands. "It was just a question. Jeez." Spike muttered something in response.

You suddenly remembered the bounty on Faye’s head, but it didn’t really matter right now. That was all on the back burner for now, seeing as every plan you could think of required a ship that wasn’t the one Faye was living on. And you really didn't want to make enemies of your new crew this early on. All you cared about right now was taking a shower to wash all of last night's events off you and getting some shut-eye.

You wondered whether Jet was aware of your previous intentions of collecting the big bounty on Faye. You had asked him if Faye was joining the group for dinner last night, with no context. There was no answer, but that also could mean he took in what you said and was processing what you really intended to do if Faye did show up at the dinner. Remembering your first meeting with Spike, he told you clearly he doesn't care if she got captured or not. So you have two people who are on opposite ends of the discussion. One is in charge of the Bebop and which bounties to pursue, and the other one likes to smoke and philosophize.

The obvious correct choice was clear, but you decide to choose the latter.

"When you come in, don't be too surprised by some of our unique characters." Jet remarked. "You've already met us two, but there are a few more along the way."

"I like to think I'm also a unique character, so we should get along." You replied happily, a tint of exhaustion underlying in your words. Spike scoffed, walking over to open the small hatch.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snapped, a full night's worth of frustration threatening to overflow in the form of obscenities and insults.

"Are you talking to me?" Spike said over his shoulder, punching in the security numbers on the small pad. The hatch to the side of the Bebop creaked open, landing on the stone pier with a hard thunk. "I’m tired. And when I’m tired, I don’t put my energy into pulling punches and being nice.Got it, (Y/N)?"

You bit down on your tongue. "Never mind. What were you saying, Jet?"

You could hear a quiet, "Yeah that's what I thought." echoing up into the Bebop. Rolling it off your shoulders, you turned your focus to Jet as you both walked into the ship.

Opening a round metal door, you looked up to see a dimming bulb illuminating the cylinder passage. The walls were yellowing, patched with dark, aging metal, and littered with hazard signs. Jet walked over to a ladder bolted on the wall and began to climb.

"I'll tell you, you’ll get a real workout just getting around this ship." Jet laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"Are there a lot of these around the ship?" You said, following.

"Oh yeah, plenty. But if you stay in the living area, you don’t really need to worry about them. I'll show you around anyway, just in case we need you to get something. We wouldn’t want you to get lost." Jet smiled.

He hopped into the center gravity passage, holding out his hand to you. You grabbed it gratefully, not realizing how much of a drop it was to the floor of the tube until you looked back down.

"Oh damn." You exclaimed, looking down. "That's pretty far."

"It’s just 15 feet. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you." Jet chuckled, closing the metal door. "Alright, so this is the lower gravity passage. It leads to the living area, that includes bedrooms, kitchen and living room, and to the storage area."

Spike was nowhere to be seen in the passage. You assumed he was already in the living room, smoking before heading off to bed. Jet opened a sliding metal door marked “Storage”. You peered into the dark room.

"This is where we keep extra ammunition, supplies, and medical boxes.”

Jet pressed a button next to the storage door, one that opened to the living area. The walls were a gradient blue color, illuminated with warm lighting. The staircase was a dark, metallic gold leading to a dark blue platform. On the floor was a yellow couch, and across from it was a single matching seat. In between them sat a knee-level coffee table with a holoTV, a computer, and someone's breakfast. Jet walked in first, stepping down. "This is the living room.” He pointed to the set on top of the table. “You’re welcome to use the holoTV and the computer, everybody shares them.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure whose breakfast that is, but don’t touch it. People are pretty possessive of food on this ship.”

Right as you took a step in, you heard the light pattering of paws bouncing into the living room. From a staircase leading down, two small light brown ears popped up. Then two big brown eyes peered over, searching for the source of commotion in the room.

"You guys have a dog?!" You asked, practically jumping down the stairs. The small Welsh corgi was seemingly just as excited as you were, running and tripping up the stairs to meet you. You extended your hand, letting him sniff you.

Jet chuckled. "Cute little thing, isn't he? His name is Ein."

"Oh, he's adorable. Who’s a good boy?" You cooed, bending down to rub Ein's ears. He stretched his head out, his little stumpy tail going a hundred miles a minute.

"And usually tagging along with Ein is-" Jet was interrupted by the pounding footsteps coming from downstairs.

"They're back, they're back, they're back!" a scrawny red-headed kid rejoiced, waving their arms about. "Ed was worried, but now Jet’s back, and Ed is okay again!"

The kid's smile stretched from ear to ear, clearly more than ecstatic to see Jet back home. They grabbed the plate from on top of the table and plopped down next to a box with a computer on top. They gobbled up what was left of their food, before bending their head back to get a look at you. "Who are you?"

"This is (Y/N), they're going to be staying on the Bebop for a little bit." Jet replied, walking over to the table. He turned back to you. "Ed is a computer genius and a damn good hacker. You ever need someone to work out some malicious malware, Ed’s your girl."

“Hi, it's nice to meet you." You said, giving Ed a small smile and a wave. She scampered over to you on all fours with her behind high in the air, chattering to herself.

“Stranger, changer, danger! Hihi...”

You laughed nervously, glancing back at Jet, who was standing with his arms crossed, looking amused. The girl stopped at your feet. “Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth,” she said matter of factly. Ed grabbed your hand and sniffed. You had met some oddballs in your time, but this one took the cake. She made a face and jumped back, her hands covering her nose and mouth. "Ed thinks you stink!"

You sucked in air between your teeth. Did you really smell that bad, or was it another talent of this child prodigy? That’s so embarrassing. "Is it that noticeable?"

Jet half-smiled. "Doesn't bother me none. Thought I wouldn’t mention it till you could do somethin about it."

He was just going to let you find out later? No wonder Spike didn't want to be anywhere near you. It wasn’t even your first day of being on the Bebop, and you were not making a great first impression.

"Let me show you the kitchen." Jet motioned for you to follow up a small set of stairs through a large circular door frame leading down a small hallway. You turned into the kitchen, completed with a fridge, stove, oven, and a small countertop. The kitchen was dark, the only light in the room was the dimming orange ashes of Spike's cigarette falling on the floor. He was leaning against the countertop, staring down at his cig.

"There you are, Spike." Jet flipped the lights on, revealing a slightly disorderly kitchen. Spike winced, covering his eyes.

"Jesus, Jet give me a warning next time," Spike mumbled, his voice deep and raspy. Your annoyance and anger at him suddenly disappeared. That voice. You wanted to hear that voice again. You wanted to put your hand on his chest and feel the vibrations of that voice. Every time you tried to find some way to be mad at him again, he just had to stand there, looking cool and intoxicatingly seductive. You craved him like an alcoholic craved whiskey.

"Are you finished with the grand tour?" Spike asked, his heavy-lidded eyes looking away from you and Jet.

"Not yet, but I was hoping you could finish it."

"I’m not in the mood for hospitality right now. I'm going to bed." Spike said, making his way to the door.

"Just show her on the way there. And be nice, she's our guest." Jet warned, sorting the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

"Yeah, show me some respect." You teased. But Spike clearly was not in the mood. Instead, he turned away from you, rolling his eyes, and walked out of the kitchen

Jet patted you on the back. "Give him a minute, he'll come around."

"Thank you for everything, Jet. It means a lot." You smiled.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Go ahead and get some rest. If anything comes up, I'll send the cavalry after you." He said, gesturing to the living room.

You took a deep breath before heading out of the kitchen. Ed was sitting motionless in a trance-like state, her eyes engulfed with giant goggles. Ein lay peacefully on the couch, watching as you followed Spike down the steps into the living room.

This was the first time you and Spike had been alone since last night. Just hours ago, you were definitely not afraid to touch him. Now, you didn't even want to take a step near him.

"Are you coming or what?" Spike called out impatiently, already halfway downstairs to the lower part of the living area. "I don't have all day."

"I'm here." You raced over, gliding your hand down the rail. Spike continued his way down, turning around a corner. The walk down the hallway was quiet, the silence uncomfortable. Neither of you wanted to do small talk. Spike probably didn’t want to talk at all, but you had to know. You had to ask him.

"Spike?” you asked quietly. You wrung your fingers around each other anxiously. Spike stayed silent, his quick pace faltering before coming to a stop in front of a door.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” You finally asked. Spike seemed to tense up, his jaw clenching. Deciding to press on further, you continued.

“I umm,” you mumbled, “I may have been drunk and you probably were too, but why are you so cold to me now when we were literally about f-“

“This is the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower.” Spike interrupted. Your heart dropped to your stomach. So much for answers. “There should be some clean towels. You can wash your clothes upstairs, Jet can show you where the washer is. Your room’s gonna be the first door you see when you reach the top of the stairs. It’ll be all yours till you leave.”

Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke before making his way slowly down the hallway. You looked at him in disbelief. He definitely remembers. And he’s rejecting it. You and him. Cutting it off before it starts, pushing you away.

You stepped into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind you before tears of anger and resentment started to fall down your face. How can you feel so much emotion for someone who shows none? You lost your home and belongings. You didn’t want to lose anything else.

After a long hot shower, you stood in front of the mirror, combing your fingers through your hair. You were going to have to get essentials eventually, a comb and a toothbrush would be nice. But that would have to wait. You rubbed circles on your temple, your impending exhaustion headache approaching fast.

After drying yourself off, you slipped your old clothes back on. It felt awful putting dirty clothes on your clean body, but you were not about to walk around the ship in a towel. You had already dug yourself a deep enough hole with Spike, you didn’t want to traumatize Jet, the kid, or the dog.

As you wrapped your hair in a towel, you heard shouting from outside. You combed through who it could be. Spike and Jet. Or Jet and Ed. Or Spike and Ein, or Ein and Ed. There were quite a few combinations.

“First fight on the Bebop.” You muttered to yourself. “So excited.”

This was so ridiculous, you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. All you had to do was walk past and not get involved. Unless it was about you, then you would at least try to defend yourself. You opened the door, listening intently.

“What the fuck-“ more shouting. “And you bastards decide to tell me now?!” A shrill female voice was yelling. A table got knocked over. You could hear stomping and more shouting. “Well, where the hell are they?!”

Whoop, time to hide.

You shut the door and the latch clicked with a loud cathunk. You hoped they hadn’t heard it. You were down a big hallway, there was no way that they could’ve heard it. You had a pretty good idea of who the screaming was coming from, and you were not ready to meet her right now.

The sounds of stomping grew louder, getting closer to the bathroom door. Your fight-or-flight mode started to set in. With how pissed she sounded, stomping and roaring, this may as well be a life-or-death situation.

You rolled your neck, stretching your arms out. If you needed to defend yourself, you were going to have to do it bare-knuckled. No guns, knives, bars of soap, nothing. You flexed your hands, cracking your knuckles. You planted yourself in front of the door. The footsteps outside stopped. This was it! You were ready for anything.

Bam!

The door slid open. Faye Valentine stood on the other side, hands on her hips. She was panting from her ranting and raving in the other room. She smiled, her eyes a little too wide. You couldn’t tell if she was happy, crazy, or surprised.

“Hi there, you must be our newest crew member! My name is Faye, it’s so nice to meet you, girly!” She beamed, her eyes manic.

Not the response you were expecting. “It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” You held out your hand. She took it, her soft palms gripping your hand a little bit too tight. She shook your hand. She kept shaking. And shaking. You pulled back, trying your best to put on a friendly face.

“Sorry if I’m hogging the bathroom, there was an accident last night and I was so dirty, I just had to have a shower.” You smiled, stepping to the side.

“Oh no! You’re totally fine. I was just looking for the toilet, I guess I got lost.” She replied, waving her hand.

“The toilet’s just across the hall from your room, how long have you been here-“ Jet was cut off by Faye’s elbow jabbing him in the ribs. Jet grabbed his side in pain, giving you a half-smile.

“Well, I’d love to chat, but I’m really tired. I’m going to go get some sleep.” You smiled apologetically and gestured to the stairs.

Jet and Faye’s voices mingled with each other, overlapping into a confusing symphony of hospitality and kindness.

“Yeah, no worries!”

“Call us if you need anything!”

“We’ll be right here!”

Smiling, you gave a small wave, turned around, and basically sprinted down the hallway to the living room. You heard Faye hiss, “You didn’t tell me she was a girl, dumbass.”

“I was going to before you blew up at me. If you had let me finish, I would’ve. Why are you so pissed off about another crew member, anyway?”

“I’m tired of all the men on this ship, I didn’t want another one. And I thought they were going to take my room...”

Their bickering trailed off as you climbed up the two sets of stairs to your new room. Ed was still on the floor with her goggles on, humming to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fight that had just happened. Ein cautiously sniffed the overturned table, before settling onto the floor next to Ed, resting his head on her lap. You would’ve said goodnight, but they seemed to be in their own little world and you were happy to let them stay like that.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two doors directly across from each other, one on each side of the landing. Spike had said it was “the first door you’d see”, but that wasn’t particularly helpful in this situation. Hoping you were correct, you quietly walked over to the door to your left, pressing the button to open it.

Your breath hitched as the door opened to see Spike fast asleep in his bed. He snored lightly, sleeping so deeply he didn’t hear the hiss and clink of the door opening. His arms were behind his head and the steady rise and fall of his bare chest was hypnotic. Even asleep he was really, really attractive. You fumbled over yourself trying to shut the door. It finally latched, and you let out a breath.

Sighing, you turned towards the door behind you. This one had to be it. You opened it to see a small, sparse room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped on the light. Pushed up against the far wall was a simple bed, and to your right was a small desk built into the wall with an old armchair next to it. There was a closet in the far corner, but the door was locked and some large boxes were stacked in front of it. They must not get many guests, it seemed like this room was mainly used for storage.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion overtaking your body, you flopped onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft, with a pillow and tan comforter neatly folded on top. You didn’t know how to thank Jet for being so kind and accommodating. Next time you cashed in a big bounty, you were going to set aside some woolongs to buy him a thank you gift.

On top of the pillow, you noticed a pair of black shorts and a yellow button-up. Pinned to the shirt was a note, clearly written in a hurry.

Some clean clothes. You smell like shit.

-S

You laughed. He’s straight-talking, that’s for sure. You slipped on the shorts and buttoned the shirt halfway up. Spreading out the comforter, you crawled underneath. You were already half-asleep, and thinking about how breathtakingly attractive Spike looked asleep relaxed you even more. Your mental snapshot of your accidental encounter was glued to your eyelids. It was never going to happen again, but you got to have one taste of beauty while here.

You gently wrapped your arms around your pillow, thoughts of Spike disappearing into clouds of empty dreams. It was so much better to fall asleep to thinking of someone, rather than no one at all.

And even though it was going to hurt, you would do it again and again.

[A/N] all I got to say is fasten your seatbelts for the next chapter, slut puppies.

#faye valentine #cowboy bebop #90s anime #jet black #radical edward #adult swim #toonami #ein #fanfiction #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #see ya space cowboy

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turtleedovee · 3 years

Text

Life Has A Funny Way of Working Out (Pt. 3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 2,454

Warnings: cursing, shouting, destruction (kinda), magic using, controlling someone, manipulative ex (if there’s anything else I miss please let me know!)

A/N: Part 3! hello lovely people thank you for reading this, I really liked writing this so I hope you guys enjoy this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it, not gonna lie... shit kinda hits the fan. There will probably be one more chapter after this, I mean I didn’t really see where else I was going with this after this last chapter but idk I might pick it up if I have another idea but anyways enjoy! Remember that I also post this on my ao3 so if you want to read it there my user is the same as my tumblr.

The next morning Bucky woke up to the sunlight streaming into the room, he began turning around and the first thing he noticed was how your side of the bed was empty. Panic began to set in until he heard shuffling in the living room, he slowly got up, rubbed his eyes and headed towards the noise coming from the living room, noticing how you were chipping off a piece of your broken wall.

“Hey, goodmorning?” Bucky asked, confused as to what you were doing.

You turned around to face Bucky, “Oh, good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“No don’t worry about it, what’re you doing?” He spoke while watching you struggle to pull a small piece of wood off the wall, the white paint slowly peeling off.

“Need to get this fixed before my landlady sees it and goes berserk.” You trailed off finally getting a big enough piece, you put it in a baggy and stuffed it inside your pocket. “Come on, let’s go.” You said grabbing your bag from the counter.

Bucky stared at you, dumbfounded, “Wait, wha- go where?”

“To get coffee? It’s the least I can do for you.” You grabbed your keys and made your way towards the door.

“I told you, you don’t owe me anything alright.”

“Barnes.” You stated, placing your hand on your hip and drumming your fingers on the counter, “Get your ass ready and let's go get some coffee.” You ordered.

Bewildered, Bucky responded, “Yes ma’am.” and headed towards your bathroom and began getting ready, mainly to make sure he didn’t look like he just woke up.

————————————————————————

Getting out of the house was good for you, having something to do to distract yourself seemed like a good way to heal. Both you and Bucky went out to get coffee and some breakfast. While you two sat down and ate you also talked and laughed, really about anything and everything, the conversation going from fits of laughter to comfortable silence. Bucky then joined you to the hardware store to buy paint and other supplies to fix your broken wall, he had offered to help which you happily took, being around the people who you cared about most was all you wanted but you wanted to refrain from going to the Compound for ‘no reason.’ Everyone there was highly perceptive and you really didn’t want anyone else to know, part of you knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed and yet you did. They were like your family so you weren’t sure why you didn’t ever feel ready to share your anger.

But telling Bucky felt right. You two had been there for each other during some of the lowest moments of each other's life, so he knew how to comfort you. He was always patient with you which is saying something considering how frustrated he gets when someone takes too long trying to do or explain something.

After running around the city for a few hours and feeling pretty good, you and Bucky started walking towards your apartment building when you looked up and suddenly the pit in your stomach formed and you shuddered with dread.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You said, almost shouting, at your ex who was now exiting your apartment building.

“Oh… hey, I was looking for you.” He said casually, as if you two were doing just fine.

You felt your face begin to heat with anger, “I told you I didn’t want to see you again, what do you want?”

“Listen I just want to talk about the mistakes of last night-”

“Oh! The mistakes?! Which one, do you mean the one where you decided to hit me?” You stepped closer, not caring who heard you.

“Babe please I was angry you can’t be mad at me about that.” He calmly said.

You knew what he was trying to do, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of trying to play himself off as the calm collected guy and you as the crazy girlfriend.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, “I am mad at you and I told you: we’re done. So you need to leave. Now.”

He started to reach out for your hand. “C’mon I know you don’t mean that-”

“Hey,” Bucky, who had stood back throughout the conversation letting you take charge, came in front of you and diverted the hand from coming near you, “she said to leave her alone so I suggest you listen to her before things get out of hand.”

His calm and cool demeanor changed in an instant when his eyes landed on Bucky. He scoffed, and noticed how you backed-up behind Bucky, “Are you being serious right now?” He looked at both of you and as if something clicked in his little brain he stepped back from the both of you. “Oh I see what this is, you only dumped me so you wouldn’t get caught cheating on me with this dick.” He said and shoved Bucky back, you grabbed Bucky’s arm to stop him from doing anything stupid, mainly so you could do something stupid and make sure Bucky didn’t get into any trouble.

“I told you I never cheated on you, and whatever my business with Bucky is, it’s my business, I don’t owe you any explanation given that I broke up with you so get over it.” You gritted your teeth, standing in front of Bucky to stare down your ex.

He gave a harsh laugh, “This is unbelievable you’re freaking out on me for catching you and now you don’t even want to admit that you did anything wrong!” He shouted, Bucky began to glance around noticing that people were staring.

“I didn’t cheat on you, asshat!”

“Oh please, now you're acting like a bitch.”

“Okay, that’s enough, leave her alone. Before you make yourself look more like a fool.”

He sized Bucky up, “Or what? You’ll kill me?” He puffed out his chest and pushed himself forward getting in Bucky’s face. “I know what you are: a killer, that’s all you ever have been and all you ever will be.”

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact. You feared that he wanted Bucky to beat him to a pulp, but he stayed there, unwavering in his stare.

“She asked you to leave.” Bucky repeated. “So leave.”

“Nah… I don’t think so.” Before Bucky could even blink he noticed a rising fist coming straight for him. But before he could block the blow, the fist stopped; midair, the guy’s face contorting in pain.

Bucky looked over his shoulder and realized you were controlling him, anger clouded your eyes.

“I told you to leave me alone. But you didn’t listen.” Bucky stepped back as you stepped forward, forcing your hand forward, making him drop to his knees, grunting in pain. “I told you what would happen if you so much as looked at me. Do you know how easy it would be to kill you right now?” You leaned into his ear and whispered, “Like breaking a toothpick.” You stood back up, anger creating an invisible barricade between you and him, you didn’t care who saw, you didn’t care what happened, all you knew is that he deserved nothing. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

He tried to open his mouth, but you didn’t let him, he could see sweat falling down his forehead, and Bucky looked around, seeing all the eyes staring down at you in fear. Bucky walked up slowly to you and put his hand on your shoulder, feeling how tense you were. “[F/N], not here not now.”

Bucky’s touch seemed to remove the dark clouds that surrounded you and his soft words brought you back to reality. That was when you noticed the crowd, eyes just staring at you, along with flashes of cameras. He got what he wanted, he wanted you to lash out so he could play the victim, and you fell right into it.

You dropped him and started walking back to your apartment, Bucky following quickly behind you. You heard him start yelling, you tried not to pay attention but something he said caught your attention, “You think you’re done with me?! Just wait until your little guard dog leaves. Now what I did in there was just a warning.” He shouted while he started standing up.

“What was just a warning?” You asked, already up the stairs to the entrance of the building.

He just smirked, “Oh you’ll see, don’t think you can embarrass me like that, once I’m done with you, you’ll regret everything coming your way.” And with that notion he walked off, with a noticeable limp; you tried to process what he just said. What was he doing in your apartment? How did he get in? All of these thoughts ran through your head as you started fumbling with your keys.

“Shit.” You whispered as you began racing through the hallways towards your apartment, not paying attention to Bucky trying to tell you to slow down. When you finally arrived at your door you carelessly shoved the keys in and pushed the door to open when you finally realized what he meant as a warning.

You seemed to stop breathing all together dropping the paint and other supplies you needed to fix the hole in the wall, now, useless. He completely destroyed your apartment, your eyes scanned the living room and kitchen; to your right plates, mugs, and bowls were shattered into a million pieces, the different colors made a mosaic on the floor, the refrigerator door was left open and fruits and other foods laid splattered as well, now most likely spoiled. Your dining table was broken, all the legs of the chairs were sitting scattered with wood chunks around them. The potted plants you had now laid down on the floor, dirt pouring over the floor. Your couch had slash marks, the stuffing inside them was sprayed everywhere on what remained of your coffee table, your television now screening the various black and white speckles along with glass falling from the screen and surrounding the living room you were in the night before; and you could only imagine what else he did in your room.

Devastation couldn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You clenched your jaw, you felt more violated than before. He somehow managed to sneak into your home, and destroy the first place you had felt at peace in. You slowly stepped inside the apartment, the crunching of wood, glass, and broken ceramics under your shoes, and looked closer at everything, you felt as though your entire world had been slipped out from under you; grabbing a broken picture frame you looked at the picture inside now covered in dust, stuffing, wood chips, and dirt.

Bucky was at a loss for words, you two were only gone a few hours, that man you once trusted managed to destroy the one place you were safe in. He didn’t know what to say, or how to comfort you.

“You should get going,” You said quietly, not looking up from the picture, “I need to fix things around here.”

“[F/N] please, you don’t need to do this alone, let me help-”

“No!-” You shouted, “Please just, I need to be alone for a little.”

Your sudden shout startled Bucky but he knew when to back off. “Alright, call me later ok?” He asked, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, for sure I’ll… see you later.” You said distracted. Barely noticing that Bucky had walked out the door, you looked back down on the floor and noticed another picture, this one was ripped in half. Slowly picking it up you realized it was a picture that you and the rest of the Avengers had taken during Tony’s holiday party, the happy faces now ripped apart and stained.

————————————————————————

Bucky stayed outside your door for a few minutes, conflicted knowing that you wanted to be alone but he was worried that if he left your ex would come back and in his gut he knew that no matter how strong you were, being alone with him would not be the best thing in the world for you right now. He usually could help you out with anything but this was something completely different. Sure there were bad guys back in the 40s but growing up with sisters and a mother with a firm hand, he knew how to be a gentleman; and so did most men back then. He tried racking his brain for how he could help you out, when he finally got an idea. He made his way to his motorcycle that he had parked across the street the night before and headed towards the Compound.

After about half an hour later he made it back to the Compound and began his search; he looked around the living room and kitchen but it seemed empty, and after wandering for a few minutes he decided it would be pointless running around this Labyrinth.

Sighing, he said, staring at the ceiling, “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” An automated female voice responded back.

“Where’s Tony?”

“In his lab, sir.”

Bucky began his trek to the lab, “Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“You are welcome sir.”

After a couple of minutes of walking he finally arrived at the entrance of the lab where he noticed Tony tinkering with the helmet of his suit, too busy to hear that Bucky had now entered his lab.

“Tony I need to ask you for a favor.”

Tony just sighed, not taking his eyes away from his helmet, “Kind of in the middle of something Barnes so you better make this quick.”

“It’s about [F/N].”

This seemed to cause Tony to take his eyes off of his project and stare at Bucky, puzzled.

“And what about [F/N]?” Tony asked, standing up and crossing arms.

Bucky knew you didn’t want anyone else to know about what happened, but he knew you needed help, so he chose his next words carefully, “Something happened and well her apartment was compromised. She needs a new-”

“Was it that douche-bag boyfriend of hers?” Tony stated flatly.

Bucky stared at Tony, bewildered, “Ex-boyfriend.” He corrected.

Tony just hummed, after a few seconds of silence he finally started, “I can tell you don’t want to tell me whatever it is that happened and well whatever did happen doesn’t matter anymore so, tell me Cyborg, what is it you need me to do?”

Pushing aside the nickname he started to tell Tony his plan.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #avengers #bucky barns fanfiction

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Whisky Secrets (sequel)

Here's something different. Before I ever thought about posting fanfic here, I used to write things inspired by fanfic I found by some of the incredible writers I found on tumblr. I've never posted any of them but I've really felt like writing something for Aleister Black/ Tommy End lately.

So I reached out to one of my original favourites on this site, @ghostofviperwrites and asked her if she'd mind if I published this sequel I wrote to her story Whisky Secrets. She gave me the ok (for which I thank her very much).

You absolutely have to read her piece first or this won't make any sense. It picks up literally at the point where hers leaves off and the entire premise is based on what she wrote. I think this goes in a very different direction than what she had in mind, though.

Since this is an old story, some of the characters are very different than they are now. It was set at around the time I wrote it. Based on events in the story, it's pretty clear when that was.

It's a bit dated but I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Aleister Black x OFC (hints of Roman Reigns x OFC)

Word count: 7,031

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, language, incidental roughness that some might find stressful

You rested on the sofa for too long, knowing that you had to get to work, that you were already behind on an assignment that was due that afternoon. As much as you desperately wanted to cling to the scent and the feeling of him being there with you and the idea that he might someday want to be there with you for longer, you knew that you were only wasting time by indulging in a fantasy. Once again, you reminded yourself, he saw you as a friend, a landing pad after he was finished his adventures. And so you dragged yourself to the computer and tried to focus.

It was a fluff piece you’d been hired to write: places for new residents of Orlando to meet people. You’d accepted it because the pay was good and it had seemed easy. But what the hell did you know about meeting people? You’d barely met anyone and the only ones that you’d call friends were the ones you met when you’d done an in-depth profile on the WWE and their development territory NXT. Of those, only Aleister had remained close and even then, you couldn’t say that the two of you had ever properly opened up to each other. Nevertheless, you’d stayed in touch with a number of them, occasionally meeting for coffee or drinks. None of this was in any way useful when it came to recommending locations to connect with strangers.

You’d tried to start the article the day before but now when you opened the file, you discovered that you’d only come up with a half a dozen corny titles and one word of text:

When?

The word was too painfully appropriate.

When were you going to run out of luck and be unable to find further work as a journalist?

When were you going to admit that what kept you here, rather than moving to another state and pursuing more secure work, was the fact that you were in love with a man who was only interested in your capacity as a friend and caregiver?

When was your hopeless love going to break you beyond repair?

Annoyed with yourself, you deleted the word and tried to start again. You could meet people at the gym classes that were ubiquitous in this city. You could meet people at get-togethers for shared hobbies like hiking or pottery or basically anything. No one had to meet people by getting thrown into their orbit and being unable to extricate themselves.

About half an hour into your resentful hammering on the keyboard, you were startled by your doorbell. For one sweet instant, you imagined that it was Aleister dropping by to pass some time with you. Then you realized that he never came to you without an invitation unless it was dead drunk in the middle of the night. Even when you invited him, it was only every fourth or fifth time that you asked that he agreed to come over and watch a movie or go for a walk in the nearby park. There was no way it was him at your door at eleven o’clock in the morning.

In fact, the person at your door was Bayley, chipper and warm as always, returning the spare laptop you’d lent her a few weeks before.

“Thank you so much,” she beamed, thrusting the computer into your hands. “You are a lifesaver. I’d have lost my goddamn mind if I hadn’t had this while mine was in the shop.”

“It was nothing,” you insist, smiling at her unconstrained warmth even though you didn’t feel very positive about your life at that moment. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

She nodded cheerily and stepped across the foyer. You never really knew how you fit in with the women of WWE, even though you’d spoken to many of them in depth. Bayley stood out because she was determined to be your friend despite your introvert’s reluctance. And, indeed, she was irresistible. Much like her in-ring character, she cast sunshine wherever she went and her glow was contagious, even in your darkest and lowest moments.

You motioned her into the kitchen, offering her a choice of lemonade, iced tea or water. Her eyes immediately fell on the empty whiskey bottle you’d left on the counter, her expression growing more serious as she focused on it.

“Getting started early?” she cajoled.

“A friend left that here,” you replied guiltily.

She narrowed her dark eyes as she looked at you. Sweet and optimistic as she was, Bayley was not naïve. She knew exactly what friend had left the bottle behind and she knew how you felt about him.

“I’ll have a glass of lemonade,” she said, the smile slowly returning to her face.

You joined her and the two of you jokingly touched glasses before drinking.

“So, a few of us are getting together tonight,” she said hesitantly. “I thought you might like to join us.”

Your first instinct was to ask if Aleister would be there, but you thought better of it. Instead, you responded, “Well, I have an article I need to finish.”

Of course, your article was due by the end of the afternoon, which meant that your evening was free regardless, but part of you wanted to be at home in case Aleister came staggering over again.

Bayley’s jaw set in a determined expression you’d only seen from her in the ring. “We’re having a party for Roman, to celebrate him going into remission.”

Well now you felt like a bit of a bitch for making excuses and didn’t know what to say.

“It won’t just be wrestlers there. Some other journalists are even coming. And I know that it would mean a lot to him if you were there.”

When you’d done your article on the WWE, you’d interviewed Roman Reigns and he’d been incredibly generous with his time. He’d even contacted you after your interviews to confirm that you had all the detail you needed. He was the face of the company and had done everything possible to make sure that the company had provided what you required. He’d clearly wanted to make sure they’d left a good impression and you couldn’t help but be impressed by his PR skills. Although you knew it wasn’t true that it “would mean a lot to him”, you were touched by the idea that he remembered you and might like you to be there to celebrate his great news. At the same time… you needed to be there for Aleister.

“Look,” Bayley insisted, “I’m going to text you the details for the bar where we’ll be. It’s not a big deal, just a bunch of us getting together to be happy for our friend.”

There was no way that you could refuse that, so you shyly thanked her as she gulped the rest of her lemonade and made for the door.

“I’m serious,” she said as she departed. “You work so damn hard you deserve a night off. Finish what you’re doing and come have fun with us.”

As soon as she’d left, you once again sat down at your computer. Before you could return your attention to your work, however, you couldn’t resist checking Instagram.

Someone had tagged Aleister in a photo on Instagram.

Yes, you were that pathetic that you always checked.

With trepidation, you clicked the link to look at what was there. As it too often did, the notification came from an airbrushed-looking woman, her collagen-enhanced lips pressed against his. She looked arrogant and proud, while he looked smug and inebriated.

“Guess who I got to hang with last night?” the caption gloated.

You knew damn well what “hang” was a euphemism for. He never cared that the Barbie dolls he hooked up with advertised their conquest on social media. He was single and hot. Why should he care if people knew that he always scored with the sort of women other men lusted after? Why should he care that it ripped your heart to shreds every time you saw him with another woman so unlike you in every way?

The woman had posted a few other photos of the two of them together, embracing. Every part of her magazine-ready body was on display, save those parts that would have gotten her in trouble. Her artificially perfect breasts were spilling out of a tiny tube top while her endless legs were shown in their full glory between the edge of a skirt that likely required her to trim her pubic hair and the sky high heels that raised her enough to press her lips to his without having to stretch herself awkwardly. She was nothing like you, with your unkempt hair and loose, bohemian dresses, your comfortable ballet flats and blandly natural face. She had all the glamour that you lacked and he ate it up.

The images of the two of them cut into you like a laser and, for once, all you desired was to break free from the pain of feeling. A few minutes later, when Bayley sent the text she’d promised with the details of where you could find the party tonight, you immediately responded.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

To hell with Aleister and the designer women he adored, you told yourself as you returned to your article with a vengeance. Tonight you were going to do whatever it took to break the spell he had cast over you.

It was just after nine when you found yourself teetering to the entrance of the bar where the party was taking place. It was marked only by a subtle sign, no words, just a stylized anchor, and it was hidden away on a tiny street that was hardly more than an alley. In your fit of pique, you’d finished your article two hours before your deadline and then, having examined the options in your closet and found them wanting, headed out and spent entirely too much money on a new dress that clung perfectly to your breasts before flaring out to highlight the movements of your body, while covering just the bare minimum to maintain decency. You’d also picked up a stylish pair of ankle boots with heels higher than you were used to and that posed a legitimate threat as you made your way down the roughly paved road to the speakeasy-style bar.

A little further down the alley, you see a couple leaning against a car, taking turns swigging from a liquor bottle. The woman is one of those glamorous animals that makes you so insecure, laughing in drunken delight in a way that only confident people can. In one quick movement the man spins her around and bends her over the hood of the car. He immediately takes out his cock, stroking it a couple of times before he thrusts into her, one hand on her back while the other holds the bottle that he continues drinking from. And it’s a moment before you realize that it’s Aleister, fucking away at a woman whose name he won’t remember in a few hours.

The sight makes you want to curl up and die, makes you want to say that you’ve made a mistake and run along home so you can bawl your eyes out while you wait for his inevitable drunken arrival. But, if nothing else, the damage that you’ve done to your credit card in order to make yourself look just a bit more sexy and edgy than usual, as well as the glasses of wine you had already consumed to fortify your courage, push you forward. This is a test. In order to pass, you need to be able to ignore the man whose indifference is killing you and enter the world of others, where someone who wasn’t up to the standards of the rarified model girls might be willing to give you a second look.

Aleister doesn’t even glance up as you enter the bar a few feet away from him, can’t feel the dark weight of your eyes on him or the force with which you tear them away as you step through the door.

As soon as you do, you are once again frozen with the idea that you’ve made a mistake. When Bayley characterized this as a “get-together”, you’d assumed it meant a group of people spread out around a few tables chatting away and toasting Roman’s health. Instead, what greets you is a basement club full of people with a dance floor alive with writhing bodies. You recognize a few journalists but for the most part, the space is taken up with every WWE and NXT star you’ve ever heard of. It’s a convention of beautiful people and you can’t help but feel dowdy even in your overpriced finery.

You slowly descend the stairs, fully intending to look around, say hello to a few familiar faces and then bolt for the exit, but you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice that fairly shrieks. “Oh my god woman, just look at you!”

It’s Sasha Banks, standing at the edge of the stairs with Bayley, who gives you an exaggerated round of applause.

“Miranda, you look amazing,” Sasha continues breathlessly. “Seriously, you’re putting everyone to shame.”

You don’t feel like you’re putting anyone to shame, least of all Sasha in her body suit that hugs every curve of her perfect little hourglass, but you blush at the compliment.

“Come on,” Bayley gushes, “we need shots to celebrate your hotness!”

She pulls both of you through the crowd to the bar and somehow is able to get the bartender’s attention almost immediately, ordering two rounds of tequila shots because, she tells you and Sasha, there’s no point in getting just one round when you know you’re going back for seconds. The three of you toast and toss down the shots and then immediately do so again and you have to admit that you’re feeling the warm glow already. Sasha, apparently feeling something herself, wraps her arms around you and once again reassures you that you are devastatingly beautiful.

Another shot is thrust into your hand, this time by Dash Wilder, who’s arrived with his Revival partner Scott Dawson. Wilder has always been attractive to you, so you give him as radiant a smile as you can manage and you swear he blushes a little just before he downs his shot. Dawson is hugging Sasha and Bayley close to him, allowing Dash to edge a little closer to you and you’re feeling a little high on yourself when another voice cuts through your circle.

“Miranda? Holy fuck I can’t believe you’re here!”

Roman Reigns pushes right through the bodies close to the bar and grabs you firmly by the shoulders, his eyes gradually focusing on yours. He’s grinning with an intensity that clearly comes from his being a little past feeling no pain but it doesn’t hamper the thrill it gives you when he wraps his arms around you and nearly crushes you in a hug.

“I mean, shit, I don’t think I’ve even talked to you since you did that interview,” he pouts. “Thank you so much for coming.”

You smile as another shot is pushed into your hand, biting your lip self-consciously. You down about half the shot before Roman grabs it from you and finishes it, breaking up with laughter. He signals the bartender for another round, keeping an arm around your back until the tray of shots arrives. You’re all toasting each other and you wonder why you ever questioned yourself for coming here because this is exactly what you needed.

“Come dance with me,” Roman chuckles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dance floor. He’s clearly floating on a sea of drunken bliss, goofing around and happy to have someone to have fun with, someone he didn’t expect to be there. Even if you wanted to resist his offer, you couldn’t because, while he isn’t doing anything that might hurt you, his grip is strong enough and the rest of him powerful enough to compel you forward.

The two of you deliberately dance like complete nerds in high school, awkward movements and ironic posturing until you’re both laughing so hard you can barely stand. It’s then that you realize that you’ve become the focus of some attention; Roman goddamn Reigns, the face of the company, the locker room leader, the man who everyone has come to celebrate, is dancing with you. Most of the people here have no idea who you are but because you’re with Roman, you are somebody. Basking in the subtle attention and envy, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in the music, swaying to the beat until you feel a large pair of hands on your hips.

You open your eyes to see Roman pulling you closer to him with a devilish grin before spinning you around and pulling your back against his massive chest. You continue to move but at a slower pace, your movements limited by how close he’s holding you and the sensual way in which his body moves against yours. Keeping one arm loosely around you, he lets his other hand fall against your thigh, lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It makes you gasp.

“You never responded to any of my texts,” he murmurs gruffly in your ear.

You remember at least half a dozen messages asking if he could clarify anything or if you needed any additional material for your article. You hadn’t needed anything else but you suddenly feel terribly rude for not answering.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “you were very professional and I should have at least told you that I had what I needed.”

His voice drops even lower as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to be professional about them. And I was hoping that you didn’t have everything you needed.”

He pulls you up and firmly against him and for the first time you can feel his hardening cock through his pants. You can’t help but thrust your hips into him, barely able to process what’s happening to you. The two of you are still ostensibly dancing, although it’s more like a rhythmic grinding to the music as he reaches down and pulls the hem of your dress up, rubbing your thigh and then your ass as he presses his lips into your neck. His hands are everywhere on you and you’re aware that your entire lower body is basically on display for anyone who cares to look but you don’t care because it feels like you’ve won the lottery. You moan at the feeling of his growing excitement against your flesh, both his large hands grazing up the front of your thighs and for a moment you think that you’re ready to beg him to take you right there when you’re violently spun away from your dance partner, a bruising grip on your arm.

It’s Aleister, eyes incandescent with rage as he tells Roman, “I need to speak to her for a minute.”

Roman looks confused and tries to speak to you but Aleister drags you away and a gaggle of women immediately descend on Roman, desperate to take your place.

Aleister flings you against the wall, glaring at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen outside the ring.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“I was dancing before you interfered,” you snap back at him, rubbing your arm.

“Dancing?” he repeats with derision. “That’s what you call that?”

“I was having fun.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

For the first time since you saw him with his woman of choice outside, you feel ridiculous, like a girl trying to look glamorous by donning her mother’s clothes.

“I wanted something a little different.”

“A little?” he hisses back. “Do you realize what you look like? You’re all tarted up and letting some guy grab at you and get you half naked in front of a bar full of people.”

“What I look like?”

“Everyone could see practically your whole goddamned body. They could see what you were letting him do to you.”

“You mean to say I look like a whore.”

Aleister crosses his arms and glances away, refusing to confirm what you’ve said.

“So what, Aleister? So what if I’m letting a man touch me and show me that he wants me? Who cares who else sees? Maybe that’s what I want!”

“Are you so stupid that you think he wants you for anything other than a one night stand?”

The accusation stabs at your heart and your confidence but you’re determined not to let him see that.

“Again, so what? Maybe I’m happy to have this big, gorgeous man want me. Maybe I’m fine bringing him back to my place for a few hours of fun because at least it means someone is thinking of me as a sexual being for a change.” You pause, knowing the danger of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself. “Maybe I’d be fine if he just took me outside and fucked me over the hood of a car.”

For a second, you think that Aleister is going to strangle you. The look on his face is like the moment before the sky erupts in thunder and lightning. Truthfully, you expect that he’ll turn on his heel and walk away from you and never come back, and perhaps that’s what you need him to do so that you can get over him.

Instead, he grabs you, pinning you to the side of his body and pulling you towards the door. His movements make you stumble, and the more you try to resist him, the more ungainly you look.

“She’s dead drunk,” you hear him assure a few people, “I’m going to make sure she gets home.”

And while it’s true that you are drunk, you’re not nearly as drunk as he’s making you out to be. The second he has you outside, you try to twist away from him and go back, only for him to wind you closer, pulling you off balance so that you look even more inebriated.

You hear him whisper to Seth Rollins, who’s observing the spectacle through the corner of his eyes. “Look, tell Roman that she’s falling down drunk and I just had to get her home. No disrespect meant.”

Seth has a confused expression on his face but nods and tells him, “Sure thing.”

Realizing what Aleister is doing, you once again try to rush past him, but he blocks you, gripping your arm and pulling you after him so that you really do appear pathetically unable to take care of yourself.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” you shout at him, figuring that there’s no reason to worry about who might hear you, there being no further you can sink in their estimation. “Why can’t you just let me enjoy myself?”

“Jesus, Miranda, you’re loaded. You can barely stand up.” He emphasizes this by jerking your arm forward, which almost causes you to keel over onto your face. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” you insist, pulling yourself to a halt. “I knew what I was doing. I knew what I wanted. Sure I’m a bit tipsy but-“

“You don’t want that,” Alesiter snaps, threading his arm through yours and continuing down the street. “You don’t just want to whore yourself out for a night because you think it might help your self-esteem.”

“You don’t get to decide what I want, Aleister.” You’re crushed against his side and he’s moving so quickly that your feet only graze the ground every third or fourth step. “Let me go. I’m sick of playing the surrogate mother for someone who’s incapable of seeing me as a real woman. I want to go back there. I want to have someone make a show of wanting me. I want to get fucked so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Aleister shakes his head like a parent frustrated with a misbehaving child. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“So let me be ridiculous!” you yell back, trying unsuccessfully to extricate yourself from his grip. “What the hell is it to you? Are you worried that for once I’m not going to be there when you need a place to collapse at four in the morning?”

The two of you reach the corner where the alley meets the street and he swings you to face him, glowering at you with a terrifying expression, gripping your biceps so hard you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. He says nothing but stares at you until he whips his arm out and hails a taxi seemingly out of nowhere.

He launches you, there’s no other word for it, into the back seat of the car and snarls your address to the driver as your tears start to fall. The cabbie is noticeably uncomfortable with your quiet whimpering and seems confused by the fact that Aleister does nothing to comfort or engage you. He sits with his arms folded, scowling, until you arrive at your building. Reflexively, you reach for your purse only to have Aleister swat your hand away and pay the driver himself. You try to keep pace as he yanks you towards the door, but stumble because of your unsure footing in these strange heels and because your vision is glazed by the tears you’re fighting to hold in.

When Aleister pins you against the door and rummages through your purse to find your keys, it somehow feels more invasive than Roman gripping your ass for an entire bar full of people to see. You feel, for a moment, that he is looking at you with tenderness. But when the door opens, he simply guides you through it. As you hear it click shut, the last of your strength, physical and emotional, gives out and you drop to your knees, finally allowing the tears to fall. It’s a full-on ugly cry, punctuated by guttural, anguished sounds you’d never allow anyone else to hear. Despite everything, you desperately want to hear the door open again behind you and to hear him say that he’s realized he loves you.

But no, in the end, he’s just found it gross that the woman he sees as his caregiver might have another side. He found you pathetic in your overpriced dress and shoes. He knew that you were desperately trying to act like something you could never be: like someone who could compete with the perfected Instagram beauties he fucks every night. You could never be that. He knew that you were just a sad little woman decked out in a gaudy outfit. You’d never be that sexy, desirable person who stopped men dead in their tracks, no matter what your dance with Roman had temporarily led you to believe.

You’re on your knees for what seems like hours, choking on tears and snot and trying to restrain yourself from howling. Just as the sound overpowers you and a low wail escapes your lips, you’re startled by a pair of arms, familiar, tattooed arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“Shh. There’s no need for any of that,” he grunts into your hair.

And while you’re shocked and thrilled that he actually stayed behind to make sure that you were ok, it’s also even more humiliating that he’s seen you fall apart so spectacularly. Your body feels limp with defeat and unable to react at all as he gathers you up and carries you into your bedroom, setting you gently on the edge of the bed. He rests his hand on yours for a moment and you’re able to stem the flow of tears until he stands up and heads back towards the door. This time, you’re determined to hold in the worst of your misery until you’re sure he’s gone, even though you can’t stop the tears from running down your face.

But after a few minutes of straining to hear the door close, you see Aleister return, a damp washcloth in hand, and he sits once again beside you on the edge of the bed. He presses the cloth, cool and soothing, against your cheeks and then holds your chin as he delicately wipes it across your face. It takes you some minutes to realize that he’s removing your smeared makeup, cleaning you off so that you look good as new, so that you look more like the plain girl who lets him into her home in the middle of the night, his touch filled with a tenderness that you never imagined him capable of. When he’s satisfied with his work, he tosses the cloth aside and wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against him. The sweetness of his friendly gesture makes you want to cry all over again but you choke it back, knowing that you’ll have plenty of time for that when he’s gone.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he whispers, the sound of his voice making you feel weak.

You nod and roughly pull back from him, unsure of your ability to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him and begging him to wreck you. You fumble with the zipper of your boots until Aleister slides off the bed and onto his knees and removes it for you. He glides his hand along your calf, up to your thigh and then moves to your other boot. As he slides it off, he presses his head against the side of your knee, giving the skin a light kiss before rocking back on his haunches. You know he’s being gentle with you because he feels sorry for you. He finds you pitiful, which is even worse than finding you asexual.

The feelings are too much for you to take and all you can think of is that you want to get into bed where you’ll be safe and where you can sleep off the nightmare your evening out has become. You clumsily shed your dress, stockings, bra and panties without thinking much of the fact that you have an audience. Why should it bother him seeing you naked, after all? Normally, you put on some nightclothes but you don’t even have the strength to bother. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Aleister has turned his head towards the door. He’s embarrassed for you, the way you would be if a parent or sibling was undressing around you.

You crawl under the covers with a grumbled “good night” and immediately start to feel yourself drift off. You’re jolted back to wakefulness when Aleister climbs in beside you. In all the time you’ve known him, as many nights as he’s come and collapsed on your sofa, you don’t think he’s ever seen your bedroom. Now, having seen it, he’s apparently happy not to leave it, indulging in the comfort of your bed without even asking permission. It makes you a little self-conscious that you’re nude but it’s hardly the most humiliating thing to happen to you tonight, so you let yourself ignore it. If you can just fall asleep, this night will be over and you can begin the process of trying to forget it.

It’s only a matter of seconds, though, until you feel his body pressed against yours from behind, one hand coming to rest flat on your stomach and pushing you back against him so that you are acutely aware that you are not the only person naked in the bed. The hand on your stomach flutters downward until his fingers are moving lightly over your pussy, like he’s plucking the strings of a harp. His other arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you flush against him, close enough that you can’t mistake the feeling of his erection against your back.

He presses his lips and tongue against your neck, making you whimper as you try to keep your heart rate stable. Your little noises seem to motivate him further, his touch becoming more insistent and one of his legs snaking over yours, pulling it back to give his hand greater access.

“Such a little fool,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking insistently along your fleshy folds. “Thinking I don’t see you as a sexual being.”

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out- more from the shock than the pain. His mouth continues to move around your neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking on the skin there, his grip on you tightening until it’s nearly painful.

“What are you doing?” you manage to ask.

“Leaving marks,” he says matter-of-factly.

You’re at a loss for what to say, but are saved from having to answer as he pushes two fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You’re embarrassed that he must have felt how wet you were just from being in his presence but he says nothing, quickening his pace and giving satisfied little growls when his touch elicits gasps and cries of pleasure from you.

It’s pity, you remind yourself; what he’s doing to you, he’s doing it because he feels sorry for you and because he’s drunk and horny despite his encounter earlier in the evening. But the thought gets whisked away as he brings you closer and closer to what you’ve desperately needed from him for so long. You let out a little shriek when he removes his hand, unable to believe he’s so cruel as to bring you to the precipice and then deny you. But he simply flips you onto your back before pressing his fingers inside you once more, watching your reactions to be sure he’s hitting just the right spot before burying his face between your legs. His tongue, lips and fingers work together like an orchestra. Your knuckles are white from the force of clenching on the sheets and you’re biting down so hard on your lip to muffle the sounds you’re making that you’re worried your teeth will end up permanently embedded. He unexpectedly raises his head and stills the movement of his hand inside you and the shock is almost enough to make you start crying again. You look down at him, his eyes sparkling in the low light with an expression you can’t read.

“Why won’t you let me hear you?”

Because you don’t want him to know how good his merciful little gesture is making you feel. Because you don’t want to admit to yourself that it’s better than you’d imagined. Truthfully, whenever you’ve thought about the mechanics of sex with Aleister, you imagined that it would be fast and rough and hedonistic, much like his other sexual encounters seem to be. But he’s chosen this moment to take his time, to focus on his partner, rather than go for a quick, dirty fuck in a darkened corner.

You don’t tell him any of this, instead croaking out, “I’m shy.”

He raises himself up and over your body with the effortless grace of a serpent, pressing his head close to yours and kissing along your jawline.

“What do I have to do to make you not be shy?”

“I don’t know… I just… am.” You wriggle a little under him, turning your face away when he looks directly into your eyes.

He cups your face in one hand and runs the other, still wet with your juices, over your breast, teasing the nipple and making you shudder involuntarily.

“Am I moving too fast?”

You shake your head, not quite trusting your voice.

“Is there something that you’d enjoy more? Something you want me to do for you?”

You give him another little shake of the head.

“You don’t have to be shy with me. Whatever you want, I want you to tell me so I can give it to you. Anything.”

For the first time, he kisses you on the lips, his tongue, that still tastes of you, slides against yours and the hand at the side of your face slides to hold your neck, cradling your head so that you don’t have to tense any muscles to stay in that position. Your body has nothing it needs to do but experience the sensations he’s creating. Of course, you still answer his kiss, hungrily flashing your tongue against his, reveling in the light scrape of his lip ring against your lips. His hand glides back down between your legs, and even the proximity is enough to draw a couple of little mewls of pleasure. You feel him smile a little against your lips at the noises and he pulls away from the kiss.

“Am I making you feel good?”

You nod as he starts to work his fingers around your entrance once again.

“Do you want my mouth down there again?”

You nod even more vigorously than the first time but he shakes his head.

“Tell me. Say it out loud.”

You open your mouth to do so and he immediately thrusts his long fingers into your g-spot and your clit at once, making you yelp in pleasure. It’s almost enough to make you cum on its own but he eases the pressure before you reach that peak.

“Yes?” he asks again.

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“Then let me hear you. Please.”

He returns his attention to your core and has you making all manner of unholy noises in short order. He expertly teases you and then holds back, so many times that when he does finally take you over the edge, you feel like you might pass out from the intensity of it. Your gasps for breath sound cavernous in the quiet room.

He keeps the palm of his hand firmly against you as he leans forward and presses his lips into your neck, letting out a satisfied purr every time an aftershock rolls through your body.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve fully come down, he raises himself up on his arms, giving just the hint of a smile when you grab onto his biceps to steady yourself.

He’s so rigid that he doesn’t even need a hand to guide himself into you. He simply presses forward in one slow but sure moment, his eyes closed as if it’s a kind of religious experience, not opening them until he’s fully seated inside you. It’s been long enough since you’ve been with anyone that the feeling of being stretched draws a little whimper from your throat. He remains still, his eyes open and bearing down on you with a delirious kind of excitement, aching prick twitching inside you, desperate to proceed but waiting for a signal that he can.

And it’s at that moment that you allow yourself to think that this isn’t pity or a drunken mistake, that he’s as hungry for you as you have been for him and that what’s happened tonight has just served to connect a circuit. The fiercely possessive look in his eyes as he watches you, the fury when he thought someone else was claiming you, the need to mark you to make you his, the flush of pure lust on his face and chest… it is just a little frightening, something you suspected was in him but never that it was focused on you. But you’ve always known you could handle his darkness if he let you in. So you thrust your hips a little and wrap your legs loosely around his waist to show him that he can continue. Just as he starts to move, he cups your face and presses his mouth to your ear.

“You deserve so much better.”

“Stop trying to make those decisions for me,” you moan, feeling your insides flutter with his movements.

“I’ve never felt anything like that jealousy.” He’s staring into your eyes as he confesses. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder pressing deeper inside you and gasping at the feeling. “Knowing that everyone could see how sexy and beautiful you are… And I’m an idiot for waiting for that to happen before I did anything, I just…”

He grimaces and slows his pace a little, obviously trying to prolong the sensation.

“You mean it?” You have to ask because you still can’t quite believe that this has been on his mind for all this time when he’s shown no sign of it to you.

“God yes,” he answers through gritted teeth, once again allowing himself to move faster and more urgently.

You can’t completely banish your fears that he’s going to regret this in the morning and just shut you out again but every second with him is pushing them further away. You lace your fingers through his hair, nipping at the shell of his ear as he lets out his own stream of desperate, lusty noises, running your nails gently down his back as he approaches his crescendo.

His head drops to your chest and he cries out as he releases inside you.

“Fuck I love you, fuck I love you, fuck I love you.” He repeats it like a mantra that brings him back down from his high, saying it a final time as he looks into your eyes.

Slowly, he rolls onto his side, gathering you close to him like he thinks an errant breeze might carry you away.

“I have…” he begins quietly, “… there’s a lot that goes on in my head… Bad things, I guess. I thought you’d run away. Or that I’d pull you down with me. I still don’t know that won’t happen.”

He looks so vulnerable that it makes your heart hurt but at the same time you have to stifle a smile.

“Well I’d rather you let me try to deal with it. I’m a lot tougher than you give me credit for being.”

His expression grows a little guilty and he nods. He wraps his arms tighter around you and you do the same until the two of you are lying in your bed, wound around each other.

#aleister black fanfic #aleister black fan fiction #aleister black imagine #tommy end imagine #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction

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etherealluminescence · 4 years

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helloo! can i request the brother with a virgin mc who’s really nervous when they get intimate because she’s scared she cant pleasure them? you can make it nsfw if you want. btw i really like your writing! i hope you have a good day 😊

Hello anon! Thanks for asking, I’ll be making this one nsfw! It’s pretty long since I included smut scenarios at the bottom of each, and as an opening to each hc! Just skip the italics if you don’t like nsfw or feel free to skip this whole thing if it’s not your style, random tumblr user ✨ And thank you I hope you have a good day too anon 🥺🥺

I’m such a kinky person who had to include tail fucking by levi even if no one agrees that is his kink and no one can tell me otherwise.

Brothers react to a f!virgin!MC (NSFW)

Lucifer

Quiet moans filled the air as Lucifer began undressing you. Taking off your blouse, he cupped your left breast through the cloth of your bra, eliciting a yelp from your slightly swollen lips. Slowly, he etched his hand down to your core, rubbing it.

Before he could continue, however, you let out little sobs. You thought you were ready for this, but could you really do it? You were a virgin and judging from his height he’s probably as giant down there as his ego is.

Would you even be enough for him? There’s no way, right? What if he wants you to do something? Are you just going to ruin the mood?

Confused, Lucifer immediately stops his actions and tries to console you. Did he do something wrong? Was he pressuring you into this? Did you not actually want him?

Covering your face with your hands, you tell him that you’re actually a virgin, and don’t know what you should be doing. Would he even be satisfied with you?”

“MC, darling, show me your face.” This was not a command, it was a request. He wanted you to look him in the eyes when he talks to you.

Bringing your arms down, you look up at him and start to cry a bit more. Was he going to berate you?

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay? I assure you, I want to do this with you, you are more than enough to satisfy me. And all you need to do is let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.”

Now a crying and blushing mess, you bring your head up to give him a quick peck on the lips, a sign telling him you want to continue.

Deepening the kiss, Lucifer easily starts the mood back up again. Kissing, biting, and sucking all over your neck down between your breasts. Dark purple hickies covered your body by the time he was finished. Somewhere along the lines of him biting and sucking, he had managed to discard your undergarments.

His finger slowly entered you as you stifle in a moan. As he fingered you, he gradually let you get used to it before adding a second, then third, and even a fourth. The sensation was so foreign to you, but oh so very welcomed. Clenching around his fingers, you let out a small cry that it feels weird, as your sticky fluids coat his fingers and trickle down your thighs.

Smiling down at you, he removes his fingers and licks them clean before kissing you and letting you taste a bit of yourself. “You’re doing perfect, what was there ever to worry about, love?”

Mammon

“Of course the human wants to do it with me, who wouldn’t?” Mammon semi-yelled in an attempt to cover his embarrassment. Taking both your hands in one of his, he slowly lowered you down on his bed as he gave you a kiss.

Before he could do anymore, you brought your knees up and told him to wait. He was sort of offended and embarrassed, but decided to listen to what you had to say.

“Im-a-virgin-please-be-gentle-with-me-and-don’t-make-fun-of-me-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-or-how-to-pleasure-you.” you very quickly said before burying your face inside of his pillows beside you.

“What was that MC? You gotta say it slower! Slower! Ya know?” Mammon responded. Truthfully, he heard you clearly the first time, but he just wanted to hear you say it again, but slower, and let him soak in the glory of this.

Taking your face out of the pillow, you looked up at Mammon and repeated yourself. “I’m a virgin, Mammon. I don’t know how this works or how to pleasure you, but please, be gentle with me.”

Seeing his sly smile, you wanted to die. He did it on purpose, didn’t he? Before you could hide yourself from reality again, he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I’m gonna tell everyone the Great Mammon was your first in everything!”

“Ma- mpf!” You were cut off by another kiss. Turning you around, Mammon propped your ass into the air and gave it a small spank making you squeal. Today, he’ll let his little human be, and work hard for them.

Ripping off your pants and underwear, he pushed his fingers into your ass and began to slowly push in and out. His other hand worked at stroking himself, telling you to watch so you know how to do it next time, because you will be giving him a blowjob eventually.

Climaxing on his fingers, he pushed them into your mouth and told you to suck. You ate every last bit of it as if it were the tastiest substance. Pulling his fingers in your ass out, and pushed his length in, causing you to cry from the size. “You were that hungry for my cum MC~? Get ready.” That cocky son of a bitch.

Leviathan

Loud moans from the both of you echoed throughout the room. Levi’s hands were roaming your upper half while his tailed worked on getting rid of your lower half’s clothing. But just as he got to taking off your underwear.

You didn’t mean to, but you started to cry. You were shaking. You just couldn’t control it anymore, out of everyone, you figure Levi would be a virgin and not know what to do like you. But you underestimated how many eroge games he plays.

Startled, Levi was trying his best to function. Why were you crying?? Did you not want a yucky otaku like human? Did you not like him? Did you agree to date him for a few months out of pure pity and suddenly want to get rid of him?

Trying your best to calm yourself, for both your’s and Levi’s sakes, you let out a shaky breath and explain to him what you’re feeling. The gears in his head are finally shifting.

“You mean a beautiful and amazing person like you is a v-virgin?” Levi asks, unsure if he’s hearing it right or if you’re making an excuse.

Repeating yourself, this boy was ecstatic. It was the complete opposite of what you thought was going to happen. You mean he gets to be your first?? And otaku that likes to watch idols and plays video games 17 hours a day actually gets to be YOUR first time?

Levi was amazingly happy and even expressed that very loudly. His little tail was wagging. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, soon enough forgetting your own worries.

Levi told you not to worry. Although he’s also a virgin, he’s played plenty of eroge games and seen enough hentai to know what to do!!

Spreading your thighs, Levi inches closer until you could feel his hot breath hovering over your clit. Using his tail, he pushed it into your mouth, causing you to moan in shock. As his tail began fucking your mouth, he began working on eating you out.

With one of his fingers, he reached up and began to pinch one of you buds while keeping up the pace. All of this was extremely stimulating for you, a virgin. Two of your holes were being filled and your breasts were also getting attention. Pressing your thighs against his face, you began to smush him as you got closer to your edge, which only excited him even further.

As he pulled out of your mouth, you climaxed and dug your hands into his back, leaving scratch marks. However, the night was still young and just one climax wasn’t enough. There’s a reason he was fucking your mouth, as he shoved his tail into your ass and pushed his length into you.

Satan

Swallowing, you look up at Satan to try and gauge what on earth you should do. Taking his length into your hands, you slowly began to rub and stroke, as best you knew how.

At that point, it was obvious. You couldn’t fake it. You were shaking, you looked confused, and you clearly did not know how to give a blowjob.

Satan was first to speak up between the awkward silence you two shared. Your boyfriend wasn’t going to judge you, but he wasn’t going to get off this way either.

“Do you, perhaps not you know, know how?” It was definitely awkward. The two of you were inwardly cringing. Sex wasn’t something you two often talked about, or well, ever talked about. You never thought about having sex with anyone in general.

Quickly, you responded with a little “no”.

He isn’t judgemental, he could predict it from the fact you would close your eyes if two people held hands in a movie calling it “lewd” and unforgivable. He thought it was a human joke at first, with Solomon saying that too, but the blush on your face was way too strong for it to be a dedicated joke.

Satan takes liberty to guiding your hands over the sensitive parts, and the general parts, telling you how and where to touch and suck.

While he’s explaining, he’s also boasting his knowledge of dick anatomy.

Placing your hands on his hips, you began to lick the tip of his dick before moving to the underside, making sure to give it all the attention it deserved. You soon took a third of him in, your limit, and used your hands to stroke the remaining parts.

Groaning, he entangled his fingers into your hair and began to accidentally choke you against him. Little tears were forming in your eyes, but if felt damn good to have his thick member filling you up, as you listen to hear his groans that you made.

Climaxing without warning, his hot bitter seed filled your mouth. You nearly gagged it out, but swallowed it whole in order to try your best to pleasure him. Patting your head, Satan tells you that you were amazing, and a very quick learner.

Asmodeous

“How about we have some fun, darling?” Asmodeous whispered into your ear before biting it as he wrapped his around you from behind. His hands began to slowly fondle your breasts, but before he could any further.

You knew this day was coming. Asmodeous was the demon of lust, and he was your boyfriend. A very amazing boyfriend who held back on his lust and stayed loyal to you meaning he’s been sex deprived for months. It was finally time, or you might accidentally kill him.

You were more than willing to help your boyfriend, you really were, but you were also scared. He’s been with probably thousands of people by now- he’s probably a thousand and slept with a hundred thousand! How could you, a virgin, satisfy the master of fucking?

But only because he is the master of fucking, he could tell you were uneasy. He tried to avoid making too many moves on you, other than flirting, because he would just know you were feeling nervous, but he couldn’t understand why. He knows he’s beautiful but you don’t have to be so worried to see him nude?

Asmo began to stroke your back and slowly backed down, he could wait until you were ready. But you however, had made up your mind. You were terrified, you knew you wouldn’t be as good as him or the other succubusses who were literally born to fuck, but you wouldn’t want him to be horny and be unable to do anything about it because he loves you.

Grabbing his hand, you turned around and looked up into his eyes, and swallowed putting on a brave face. “Asmo... I’m a virgin, and I’m not sure if I could pleasure you, but if you would, please take care of me.” You started off strong but slowly began to mutter, blushing wildly.

Asmo was incredibly happy. You mean his darling MC is a virgin;; like his girlfriend was worried about pleasuring him and wants to be fucked by him?? And only him?? Ever?

He literally forgets he was trying to get the sick and begins to squeal. He’s holding your hands and telling you words of encouragement and that you’re the only one for him, and that he will teach you exactly what to do.

Groping your ass, he gave it a rough squeeze as you yelped. Taking advantage of the situation he shoved his tongue into your mouth and easily claimed dominance. Swirling his tongue around, he made sure to taste all of your mouth. You’re his.

“That’s just the basics on how to get a quick kiss~” he teased as he started to nibble on your neck. His left hand was already under your panty, fingering you, while his right was massaging your breast. Your small whimpers and mewls only encouraged him to continue and do more.

He knows he should only do so much while you’re a virgin and probably don’t have a high enough stamina yet, but damn were you sexy as fuck. You on the other hand, were drowning in pleasure as he sucked and bit your buds and was pushing even more fingers deeper inside you, hitting your g-spot.

Beelzebub

Beel’s big figure dominated you as he pinned you down underneath him on his bed. You had always know he was tall and well sculpted, but being this close and intimate with him, you were having second thoughts.

“You’re so pretty, MC.” Beel whispered as he gently kissed you on the lips, as if going any harder would cause you some kind of harm.

Ah, of course he was gentle. He always was. It sort of made you feel bad, and even conflicted for having thoughts of being scared. But hearing him unzip his pants, and looking at his dick brought you back into reality.

There’s was no way it was going to fit. Your two hands could not wrap around that. Your mouth could not fit more than a third of that, even on a good day. How are you going to pleasure him or have sex if you can’t even fit him?

Beel was always watching you, so he could immediately tell you’re uneasy. And he immediately began to tell you not to worry, and it’s okay. And that he will stop and go get snacks for you if you want to stop right now.

It caused you to cry. He’s just so sweet, how did you land the greatest and softest boyfriend in the history of the world?

He wasn’t sure what to do so he went to his dresser and pulled out a bag of chips and offered it to you. Seeing Beel so worried and concerned made you feel a lot better.

“I’m fine, Beel. I just really love you, but I’m a virgin. I’m not sure if I could fit you, or well.. pleasure you. I’m sorry, it’s stupid.” You ended up telling him.

Did you think he was just going to go put it in without prep work?? Of course not! You silly goose, he was going to prep the life out of you. And him. Don’t worry. You probably won’t even be able to go all the way today.

“Oh.” Well now you learned about what prepping was. And you thanked whoever came up with that idea.

Bringing your thighs into his shoulders, he pulled your panties down and pushed his tongue into you, and started to swirl. One of his hands was covered in lube, working on himself, while the other was working on your ass.

Going deeper and deeper, you let out small whimpers that gradually grew into loud moans. Your body was no longer in your control, and the only thing in your mind was now your desires.

Climaxing for the first time, Beel didn’t even bother to stop. He ate you up like his favorite meal and continued to work on you, pulling his fingers out of your ass to give it a light smack before continuing his work. “One day, we’ll get to the full course, but let’s enjoy this first.”

Belphegor

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered pulling you closer towards him. As he took off your shirt and bra, he gave your nipple a quick pinch before starting, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You honestly had no clue what you were doing. You knew you were being intimate with Belphie, but how did you get to this point? One second you two were cuddling, and the next he asks you to help with his hard on.

You didn’t realize there was so much to the bedroom world. There were different positions? Styles? Ways of pleasuring people? What on earth is a breastjob? Is that like plastic surgery?

Before you could say anything, Belphie could already see you shaking. Hell, you were shaking more than the time he kind of killed you.

He already had his suspicions that you had no idea how this worked, but is that really something to be scared about? He didn’t get it.

Sighing, he tried his best to tell you how it works. He didn’t want to embarrass you by making you say that you’re a virgin allowed, so in a way, he was being nice.

“Put your hands on my dick and suck. Afterwards pull out and put your breasts against it. It would kill you if we did it raw.”

Blushing, you stared at him with wide eyes. So he could already tell you’re a virgin, huh? Was it really that obvious? But before you had time to express your inexperience, and how it was obvious, Belphie unbuckled his pants and removed his boxers. He just wanted his hard on gone, not a therapy session.

Thanks, Belphie. You tried to be nice in your own way.

Letting saliva form in your mouth for a bit, you bring your face closer to his length as you open and start to suck. Belphie’s hands entangled themselves in your locks, guiding you on how to slowly bob, and when to stop.

As you removed yourself from him, he gripped you by the hips and pushed you forward, your breasts against his lower half. Parting your breasts, you push him all the way inbetween, before slowing starting to move up and down.

With the help of Belphie, you gained a steady pace and gradually began bounding on your own. His low groans encouraged you and you went as best you could. With him no longer needing to guide you, he began to squeeze and roll your nipples between his fingers, causing you to cry out in ecstasy as well.

#obey me #obey me hc #obey me swd #obey me headcanons #this is a long one so it took awhile sorry for posting it late #request

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nlights37 · 3 years

Note

three stars ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

::In very convincing Matthew McConaughey Texan:: Alright alright alright, 3 stars, 3 fics to disclose little nuggets of info on...

1. From Fixer Upper, Chapter 4 - Jon and Dany’s text exhange:

She was laughing even as she sent the text, knowing how touchy he was about this topic. Honestly, it was the whole reason she sent it.

Dany: I can’t believe we’ve been fake dating this long and you haven’t sent me a single dick pic 😖

The text bubble appeared for so long she was a little worried, but then his novel-length answer appeared. She was two lines in before she was laughing so hard she was crying and her vision blurred beyond her ability to continue reading at all.

Jon: How ABSOLUTELY DARE YOU?! Apparently I need to explain this AGAIN? If the Westerosi Security Agency is going to see my dick they can come here and do it in person like men. I’m not just gonna offer it up on a silver platter for them. Also need I remind you I am a small business owner, madam? This store is my kingdom and you ask me to besmirch it’s good name so you can see my cock at 2 pm on a Thursday? I’m disappointed in you Daenerys, I really am.

It should probably come as no surprise, given the ‘Buttslut’ text I shared awhile back, that a lot of the dialogue I write (including text messages) comes from the way my husband and I talk to each other, and in this case I based Jon’s reluctance to free the Peen digitally off my own husband’s unbreakable stance that sending dick pics means your dick is then somewhere in the cloud and idk I guess he thinks the Governtment is just chilling and collecting nudes all day. Anyway, I really did ask him once when we were dating why he had never sent me a dick pic and he said something along the lines of Jon’s response here, and even now, years later, it still makes me laugh, so I used it :)

2. A Thin Line (Just some thoughts on this fic in general, that I’m not sure I’ve shared):

I was SURE, ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that a lot of people would hate this fic. Like, I was over the top about ‘Hey this is crack’, etc, because as much fun as I had making them just awful people to each other, I was like ‘ugh there’s gonna be some stans in both camps that maybe get pissed about this’, but I figured fuck it, let’s do it. The thing about them in this fic that I really, really enjoyed writing was that they are completely and totally unapologetic about themselves, and letting myself just really let them be the worst versions of themselves, I don’t know, guys. It felt good. So good that I was like ‘hmmmm, maybe keep it in the drafts.’

Because that’s the thing I like best about them and this fic - it’s not a redemption story about two tortured souls who find each other and then learn the error of their ways. It’s more like two villains meet at villain convention and will they birth the antichrist? Who knows, really, but probably, yes. Definitely.

Anyway, I really dug that so many people enjoyed their unspeakably assholish tendencies and please know I haven’t abandoned my part 3, in which Dany gets to snob it up in the North and you know, so more light bondage, maybe some matching prenups, I don’t want to give it all away.

3. From Fang and Claw, Chapter 1:

“When you say fucking,” Drogon drawled, “what exactly do you mean, snack?” The three were all gathered near the stone walls of the Keep, guards watching anxiously as the three creatures of legend circled and paced.

“Stop calling him that.” Rhaegal leaned in, nipping at Drogon’s swishing black tail. “He has a name.”

Drogon rolled his eyes, looking at his brother incredulously. “I’ll call him whatever I like. What’s he going to do? Howl me to death?”

Rhaegal glared, inching closer to Ghost. “He’s magic, like us, and he’s Jon’s, so you’d better behave.” The green dragon growled. “You know what mother said.”

The black dragon gave a dismissive snort, his eyes searching the windows of the Keep instead of Rhaegal or Ghost. “Be nice. Yes, I heard her. This is me. Being nice. Not eating this talking little snack.” His eyes shot to the wolf’s. “Rather nice of me, isn’t it,” teeth gnashed together, grinding as Drogon uttered grudgingly, “Ghost.”

The white wolf ignored the black dragon, his eyes also falling to the windows. “You want to know what fucking is or don’t you?”

“I want to know what it is you mean when you say Jon is fucking my mother, yes.” Drogon sounded angry, offended even, and Ghost was surprised two mighty creatures could be so absolutely innocent to the ways of the world. Why, he’d been fucking for years now. Surely there were girl dragons flying about somewhere, though the lack of fucking certainly explained the black dragon’s horrible attitude.

“I feel itchy.” Rhaegal was shifting restlessly beside him.

Ghost gave a wolfish grin. “You’re bonded to Jon now.” Rhaegal nodded though it was not a question. “That’s what it feels like when Jon’s fucking your mother.” The wolf’s mouth fell open, and he panted in Drogon’s direction. “Like an itch you need to scratch.”

His red eyes fell to the windows till he found the one he wanted, and he whispered for the duo to follow as closely as they could as they slid along side the ancient stone, ‘til they were just under the window to Jon’s chambers.

“Hear that?” He certainly could, and by the look of confusion on the dragons’ faces they could as well. The Silver Dany let out a throaty yell then, followed by Jon’s name, the sounds and smells of mating flowing from the open window and out into the night.

“Is he hurting her?” Drogon was rumbling and thrashing his tail about, rage building in those mad eyes.

But Rhaegal responded before Ghost could answer. “No.” He drew the word out, his head rising until he could look into the room for himself, then shooting back down to stare at Ghost. “Why are they doing that?”

Drogon mirrored his brother’s actions, even angrier but endlessly puzzled when he lowered his head as well, clearly befuddled by what he’d seen. “Explain this!”

Ghost gave a shrug, padding off a few paces, ready to give his brother a spot of privacy with his mate, heading for the clearing along the tree line where he could scent some rabbits running. “It’s what they do.” The pair was scrambling after him, landbound, awkwardly lumbering after the sleek wolf. “Humans.” Both dragons remained clueless, and Ghost snagged a hare and crunched down heavily, warm blood streaking his fur, downing the small prey in a few bites before continuing. “When they want to make a pup.”

Drogon shuddered as he watched Ghost eat. “You’re a fucking savage.” He grumbled and groused, claws swiping out to catch an elk, idly shooting out gouts of flame to cook the meat before he began to tear it apart. “You don’t even cook your food, little snack.”

Rhaegal ignored it all, focused only on this new knowledge. “But our mother is a dragon.” His eyes lit up, suddenly, turning to his brother in excitement. “It’s how they make eggs!”

Ghost gave a snicker. “Humans don’t lay eggs.” He looked at the pair with amused eyes. “You lot come from eggs?”

Rhaegal gave a nod, but Drogon preened, proud as he broke his meal’s rib cage between his jaws. “You should be so lucky. We certainly do. Beautiful eggs people pay large sums of gold for.”

Ghost crouched, his attention on the deer he could now sense beyond the tree line. “Like a chicken then.” He leapt as the black dragon roared in outrage, his jaws sinking into the deer’s neck, and he pulled the twitching body out of the treeline to drop it in a heap before Rhaegal.

“NOT LIKE A CHICKEN!”

Rhaegal looked at Ghost pleadingly before he cooked the deer his host had provided, his eyes begging the wolf to stop baiting his brother, and Ghost grumpily complied.

“Alright, not like a chicken. Point is, humans have pups that look like them, and they don’t come from eggs.” He sat on his haunches, watching the pair as they ate.

“So,” Rhaegal snapped into a femur, “you meant to say that’s what Jon’s doing. Trying to put a small human in our mother.”

The wolf couldn’t stop the snicker of amusement. “Oh, no he’s already done that.” He looked at the pair wonderingly. What sort of beast were they, that they couldn’t smell the pup in their mother? “Now he’s just fucking her because it feels good.”

There is nothing funnier to me than the idea that (1) Ghost would ever try ot explain to anyone what sex is and (2) that the dragons wouldn’t know and would be VERY offended and it took a little bit for me to write this scene way way back ago when we all thought that Season 8 would not be a massive shitstain in history because I kept laughing so hard picturing this shit.

This story is probaby one of my favorites, just because it’s silly and every magical creature is TIRED TIRED I SAY of everyone dicking around and just the notion that they’re all like ‘THESE HUMANS ARE SO DUMB UGH DO WE HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING?!” It just really tickled me, and I might never have written it had the amazing @aweseeds not requested it after her winning bid for the Jonerys Unites charity event. So, everyone say thank you to aweseeds lol, this might’ve just stayed in my head and silly tumblr posts without that fine investment in fandom content.

Thank you lovely @frostbitepandaaaaa for the ask! I LOVE YOU BITCH, I AIN’T NEVER GONNA STOP LOVIN’ YOU BITCH!

#jonerys #jon x daenerys #fanfic #my fics #fic asks

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spooky-ghost-boi · 3 years

Text

Vacation

Words: 1892

Tom Nook x Reader

Warnings: Feederism, feeder/feedee dynamic, mentions of smut, fatass Tanuki, bad writing because I’m tired and too annoyed to edit this properly.

Description: Tom thinks he has to lose weight but his job doesn’t really do him well so he chooses to take a vacation but ends up coming back fatter and you love it.

A/N: what this shit, tumblr could you possibly be any slower? Mentally I am beyond Spain without an S, so if any Twitter bitches see this. Fight me.

Tom sighed as he sat at his desk at the resident services.

He had been trying out various diets that Isabelle had recommended to him, after trying low-carb and Keto he was trying intermittent fasting and he lost about 5 pounds so far but it was making him extremely hangry most of the time. Considering that Isabelle snacked and ate lunch while being in the same room as him.

It was all alright until that damned Kitsune had the guts to appear at the Island and try to sell some faux painting to the Resident Representative, aka you.

Tom was furious and of course, kicked Redd off the Island but in the heat of his fury he tried to calm himself down but it didn’t work especially since the fucking kitsune teased Tom for his weight, which would’ve been fine, if they were alone but you had to witness that.

As soon as Tom came home he.. Well, let his anger out by binging until he couldn’t move.

He actually liked the feeling of being stuffed but he choose to ignore it although it was quite hard and he realized it was better if he took a break from work to focus on his weight loss.

The reason for his weight loss idea was quite simple; he wanted to impress you, the resident representative, he had a crush on you and told Isabelle who suggested that losing weight could help him in winning your heart.

She couldn’t have been more wrong, but it wasn’t like they both knew your kinks.. Although it was obvious. Haha idiots.

Of course Tom had told Isabelle about his plan and she agreed to do the resident services stuff.

Tom had two months of, well, vacation.

He stayed at his house and the first two days it all went great before he started binging. Constantly. To his dismay he actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know w h y or h o w but he actually disliked that he liked feeling stuffed to the brim.

So the thicc Tanuki visited another island in hopes that it would motivate him to lose weight.

(Spoiler: it didn’t HAHAHA FAT TANUKI)

During his stay at another Island he ended up discovering lots of different foods that made him feel better about the whole Redd situation and since his coping mechanism had always been stress eating he piled on a lot of weight. He was in denial, but that didn’t stop him from trying to rationalize as to why he needed bigger clothes.

Of course you were part of his racing thoughts most of the time and he liked to fantasize about you in several different ways.

So he soon returned home.

His vacation seemed to have ended too fast for him but he also wanted to get back to work so he could see you.

He stepped on the scale the evening before he had to return to work again and was surprised when it had said that he gained 30 pounds in two months, including the 5 pounds he had lost. But that couldn’t be, could it? After pondering about as to why or how he could have gained that much weight over mindlessly eating a box of half a dozen doughnuts and two cheeseburgers. He had come to the conclusion that he was too tired and that the scale must be broken.

After dumping the wrappers into the trash, he held his stuffed gut and walked to his bedroom and got onto his bed which creaked under the weight of the tubby Tanuki. Tom eyed tge stash of mini cakes that he had beside his bed, despite feeling full and heavy he decided to have a few since ‘they couldn’t do much damage, hm?’

He didn’t notice that he dozed off and woke up in the morning, surrounded by wrappers.

Tom sat up and grunted, rubbing his still rather bloated belly that sat in his lap whenever he attempted sitting up. It wasn’t really like he noticed or minded, he didn’t even notice how snug his work shirt was. He noticed the bit of rain and put on his jacket and zipped it up, completely obvious to the belly poking out from under the rain coat.

He just sighed softly, before walking downstairs into the kitchen and having some pancakes with lots of syrup for breakfast. For some reason he felt like this wasn’t exactly enough for him and looked at the clock just to see that it was still early as shit and he had t i m e.

As you can imagine the phat Tanuki had binged to the point of being exhausted by breathing but he did have places to be at so he got up anyway and walked to the resident services.

You were there with the Nooklings and Isabelle, you were excited to see Tom again after the two of you didn’t talk for so long. However nobody told you why he was gone.

Eventually Tom entered the Resident Services and Isabelle was quite surprised.

Timmy and Tommy also were surprised.

You were surprised and horny.

Tom could see the surprise in the faces of everyone. But it also made him horny. Not to mention he was a little surprised and shy to see you there and he was blushing a little.

“Ehm, good morning.” Tom responded, he needed a cigarette or some cake.

Isabelle stayed quiet and you smiled at the Tanuki.

You decided to break the awkward moment and walked towards Tom to give him a hug, because yiu had missed him and you wanted to feel all that chonk pressed against you.

Tom hugged you back instinctively, his big belly did push the two of you a bit apart but it was hot regardless.

“I made you some cake! I thought you would like it.” You said shyly as Tom nodded.

“The thing is, I forgot it at home so if you’d like to come by after work.. You could take it home? I mean.. We could have dinner at my place.” You blurted out the last part, keeping your voice so low you weren’t sure whether he had heard you.

“That’d be splendid, hm.” Tom said, then gently let go of you.

You nodded and the two of you returned to both your respective j o b s.

Tom tried to ignore Isabelle’s comments about his weight, he was sure he lost weight. Which probably was due to his lack of physical awareness.

He had spent his time snacking during work and he comfortably filed out papers and drank his coffee. Some Animals teased him but Tom didn’t really mind, in fact it was almost kinda arousing to him and he didn’t understand why.

Eventually he closed off the shop and got into his car and made his way to your house, he was a little tired and actually quite hungry.

He knocked on your door and you opened it, smiling softly at him as he was a little out of breath.

“Come in! I already made dinner.” You said, then led him to your kitchen.

“You have an eye for interior design, hm?” Tom remarked as he sat on a chair which creaked a little under his weight. He blushed, “oh- uh.”

You noted this and smiled sheepishly at him. “It’s fine! Make yourself comfortable, it’s just you and I afterall..” You said. Maybe it wasn’t the most reassuring thing to say, if you took it out of context it could have been maybe a little weird to say that. Almost sounded like you were trying to fatten up the Tanuki and eat him.. Maybe you were but more like in a sexual way.

(A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

However Tom looked a little more relaxed after you said that.

“Well, how was your day, hm?” Tom asked, as you put some food on his plate.

“It was fine, just the usual things.. I went fishing and helped out some villagers. How about you?” You asked, you had put quite a lot of food onto his plate.

“I’ve had some annoying customers, but that’s just normal.” Tom said, as he ate some of the food you had prepared, “this is really good.” He said.

After a few hours of talking the two of you warmed up to each other and you eventually told him how you felt about him and as a surprise, he felt the same way.

At that point Tom had packed away quite a few plates and snacks, the two of you sat on the couch and you straddled his lap.

He cupped your face and kissed you gently, before you fed him a tray of cupcakes. He obediently ate.

A couple snacks ago his shirt button seemed to have popped off and his sweater vest had exposed around half of his pretty chubby belly.

“You’re fat, I mean this in the most loving way possible.” You said and pinched his love handles.

“I’m just bloated-“ he said, jokingly.

“Sure.” You laughed.

“Alright, maybe I am. Happy? Hm?” Tom said as he unbuttoned his too tight pants and pinned you underneath him.

“You’re definitely fatter than before.” You remarked as you patted his overstuffed belly.

“Mhm.. You like it as much as I like it. Am I right?” He smirked.

Anyways it was a very delightful evening for the both of you and I ain’t gonna write smut because that’d be awkward as shit so just imagine it, aight?

Two ‘fucking’ months later.

You woke up next to Tom, who was still asleep and snoring quite loudly.

He had been eating quite well the past two months making him look pretty chubby, he was waddling now most of the time and his belly was s o f t^2.

You walked downstairs and made him some breakfast.

It didn’t take long for him to wake up because he smelled delicious food, he sighed and waddled his way downstairs and sat on a chair. “Good morning.” He said, smiling a little despite looking still pretty tired.

“Good morning! How’d you sleep?” You asked.

“Pretty well.. Well, until I woke up because I’m starving. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you, dear.” He said.

“Starve.” You said jokingly. “You have quite the big appetite, I give you that.” You said as you placed a stack of waffles.

“Mhm..” He yawned and ate his breakfast, “I’m still.. So tired, feed it to me? Hm?”

You couldn’t tell whether this was a suggestion or order from him, but you wouldn’t be Y/N if you turned down feeding the lazy Tanuki.

You nodded and fed him, you would straddle his lap.. If you could. Tom’s belly was taking up most of it and he didn’t mind.

He ate all of it and sighed when he felt your hands rub his bloated big belly.

Eventually the two of you got ready for work and he waddled to his car, tried to wiggle into the drivers seat which didn’t work out as his tummy was in the way of the wheel.

“Need help?” You asked.

“I would appreciate it, yes yes!” He blushed as he moved to the passenger seat and you drove the car to the Resident Services.

You had gone to work for the day.

#idk what tags to add #chubby tom nook #fat tom nook #chubby tom nook x reader #weight gain fic #Bad writing alert

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dcbbw · 4 years

Text

Sixish Sentence Sunday

Happy Sunday, everyone! Normally I am the WIP Queen, but between work and the Un-Romance AU, I have been slacking. A lot! But I do have some snippets to share today. Everything is a draft, so published posts may be edited/revised.

I am also planning to work on some Riam, Discontent, Nightfall, Object of Affection, and Liara this week. Please bear me with, and your patience is appreciated!

Un-Romance AU, Chapter 6—Catalyst

“Liam, are you okay?” she asks in a timid voice.

“Good morning, Riley. I’m fine, why do you ask?”

I move almost mechanically past her into the kitchen, where I deposit the mug in the sink. My hands curl around the edge of the counter as I close my eyes. I have no patience for Riley and her questions and assumptions this morning; I need her to be a good girl and leave it and me alone. I open my eyes and go back into the living room before she follows me.

She is still sitting in the same spot, her eyes immediately meeting mine when she hears me return. “You’ve been edgy the last couple of days. You woke earlier than usual. Outside just now, you looked stressed. Tense. Would you like a massage?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Go get ready for your shower.”

“You’re not fine! Is it work? Is it … me?” She looks down at her thighs as her fingers nervously pluck the fabric of the sofa.

“Go get ready for your shower, Riley,” I repeat in a neutral tone.

She rises from the sofa but comes to me instead going to the bedroom. Her arms snake around my neck; her eyes lock on mine. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Her breath is warm and sour; her eyes have crust in the corners. Her tight curls have exploded into kinks and coils during her sleep. But her body and skin are soft.

I feel my eyebrow raise slightly. “On your knees,” I instruct as I pull the sides of my robe away from my waist, my hands resting low on my hips. Her eyes fill with confusion and hurt as she processes my response.

I pull her arms from around my neck. “I’m not going to repeat myself anymore today, Riley. Now, either obey me, or stand in the corner and prepare for punishment.”

Aftermath of a Breakup/DC AU, Chapter 6—Tentatively Titled: I Need a Name

Drake stood at his living room window, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs as he sipped a mug of hot coffee. He watched U Street slowly come to life: the slow trickle of cars making their way towards either Adams Morgan or Georgia Avenue. The metrobuses picking up passengers. The occasional person entering the metro station.

Drake liked the peace of early morning; DC was always bustling, hustling, and making noise. It was nice to see the city waking from its brief slumber. He took another sip of his coffee. He was meeting with Brooks this morning. Drake still had no idea what he was going to say; hell, he was still processing what had happened.

Alyssa Devereaux happened, that’s what.

A blue-eyed whirlwind had swept into his life, stealing his heart and causing him to wreak damage on one of his longest standing friendships. Drake wondered briefly if that was an acceptable excuse.

It was the truth. But sometimes the truth needed an explanation.

And now his little tornado was going on a date today. An all-day date. With someone else.

Drake moved away from the window, heading into this bedroom to get a couple more hours of sleep. Today was not going to be easy.

Sister Someone, Chapter 3—Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Jackie entered the house as quietly as possible, but there was no need. The house was silent except for the television playing in the front room. The lack of talking and shrieking suggested that not many were home. She poked her head through the doorway to see Landry slouched on the sofa, his bare feet on the table.

Ewwww, Jackie thought. I have GOT to move out of here.

Landry Olsen was bad enough, but Landry Olsen’s bare feet on a common room table? Where people ate sometimes?

Jackie held back a gag.

He was watching something … strange concerning animal battles. Jackie shook her head slightly and was preparing to head to her bedroom when Landry met her eyes. The two roommates stared at each other in silent contempt for the other.

“Whose ass did you suck this weekend to get a good surgery?” Landry sneered.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “How’s that shrine to Dr. Ramsey treating you?”

Landry rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the television show. “Bitch,” he muttered.

“Thought so,” Jackie responded with a satisfied smirk.

Not tagging anyone for this. It’s a quiet Sunday on tumblr and we are all dealing with stuff while trying to enjoy the last of our weekend. If you see this and want to share what you’re working on, feel free!

#my wips #six sentence sunday #dcbbw writes

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

So tumblr ate the ask of course, but @multi-fandom-remy (I hope this was you that requested this my memory is not good and if it wasnt I'm sorry) sent a fic request where Janus has alexithymia and Remy falls for him regardless. Gonna just post it this way, suck it hell site!

I had to do some research for this as I dont know anyone who has this and I dont personally experience it. I tried to write it as accurately and respectfully as possible but please let me know if you feel I wrote it wrong or in a way that's offensive.

Three Times Janus Didn't Understand and The One Time Remy Did

Summary: Janus has alexithymia and doesnt understand what hes falling for; Remy is perfectly content to teach him.

Warnings: none really. Just not understanding ones own emotions. Ts spoilers if you havent watched the most recent Sanders Sides episode

Ship: Remy (sleep) x Janus (Deciet)

WC: 1, 505

Remy's head snapped up as the bell above the door chimed loudly, letting in a rather peculiar character. Dressed in black save for bright yellow gloves, their long trench coat swept around their ankles as they turned to make sure the door was shut. Truly curious now, Remy leaned forward eagerly, excitement thankfully hidden by his dark sunglasses.

The glasses did little to hide his reddening cheeks however as the newcomer swept off his hat and turned fully to face the cashier.

Oh. Remy leaned forward casually trying to hide the flood of oh-I-am-most-definitely-gay panic rising up through his chest. Sharp eyes breifly met his before darting back down as they made their ways towards the counter. Thanking every god that could possibly be real that the shop was empty at this time of day, he smiled easily as they came to a stop in front of the counter.

"Morning coffee. What babe will it be?"

The stranger snapped their head up in confusion, giving Remy only a split second to retain that their eyes were very pretty, one a pale brown and the other almost gold before his brain caught up with what his mouth had just uttered. Red cheeks reddening even further he closed his eyes and mentally slapped himself over the head with an industrial bag of coffee grounds.

Opening his eyes once again, he chuckled. "You'll find me dont discriminate here. We got flat white, Irish cream, long black." He cupped his cheek and smirked. "Or maybe you're the shy, straight vanilla kind of guy?"

The stranger, to his credit, was unimpressed, almost making Remy pout if it weren't for the fact he was still trying to scrape his pride up off the ground. "A mocha with five espresso shots please."

Whistling low, he turned to complete the order. "I'm assuming to go?"

"Yes."

"Late night?" He grabbed a cup and fiddled with the machine a bit, turning to grab the pump for the espresso as it began to run.

"In a sense."

Snorting, Remy turned to look again at the stranger. Through his obvious good looks there were eye bags that could rival his room mates', slumped posture and rather ratty shoes completing the picture for him. "I always hated college exams. Theres never enough time to cram."

"We've all bean there."

Pausing in applying the lid to the cup, Remy smirked and turned. "Did you just-?"

Seeming uncomfortable, the stranger shrugged, taking the drink and handing over the money. Offering a quiet thank you they left quickly, coat flying out like a cape behind them.

---------

Janus shoved his hands deeper in his pockets on the way to his favorite coffee shop. He had only been going there for a week now, but the coffee was amazing, and the cashier/coffee maker was...interesting. Janus' cheeks still burned in what he now realized was second hand embarrassment at the way the other had flirted? with him the first day. Patton said he had been flirting so he'd have to trust his friend knew what he was talking about. His stomach gave another uncomfortable flip as the shop came into view, making him grit his teeth in annoyance. Everytime he came here the same thing happened with his intestines, like they were too tight and too loose at the same time, flipping his stomach around in a way that felt like the flu...but better? Regardless it hadnt started until he had begun coming to the little shop and Janus was determined to pinpoint the cause. That was why he kept coming back.

No other reason.

His stomach flipped again as he shoved the door open, grimacing as he made up his mind to buy some kind of pastry with his usual coffee to try to quiet down what he was now going to assume were hunger pangs. This early in the morning the shop was blessedly empty, allowing him and the cashier to have their odd conversations in relative peace.

"Morning babes!"

He glanced up and tried for a smile, letting the odd movement drop after only a couple seconds. Remy smiled and smirked enough for the both of them anyway.

He made his way up to the counter, startling as a to-go cup was pushed his way.

"Regulars get the Remy special. Their usual cup of hot coffee ready before they even come through the door." He winked as he leaned against the counter, hitting Janus with the realization that the man had apparently forgone his sunglasses for the day. Deep brown eyes stared back at him before he broke eye contact, snapping his gaze to the cup in front of him.

"I'd like a muffin with it today as well, if you would."

"Sure. What kind?"

Janus looked up hopefully. "Banana nut?"

Remy bit back a laugh, muttering 'nut' under his breath while retrieving the requested pastry. Rolling his eyes Janus dug out the cash; he was learning Remy was fond of unintentional innuendos, Patton pointing out that that had been what he was insinuating in their first meeting. He tried for a polite smile again as he grabbed his items after paying, stomach going it's odd flip again as the other man smiled back.

Maybe it was the air.

------

Remy perked up as the door chimed, smiling as his favorite regular made his way through the door right before closing time. He had somehow gotten the rather shy man to agree to a date (an outing the other had insisted) taking place after his shift had ended. He seemed tense and Remy was determined to take his mind off whatever it was that kept his shoulders up and head down. He grabbed up his sunglasses as he hopped over the counter, earning a confused smirk for his effort. Smiling easily, he readjusted his bag and whipped out the store key to swing around his finger.

"Ready to go, tall, dark and snarky?"

The man merely ducked his head and shoved his hands further in his pockets, strolling quickly out the door for Remy to follow.

"So I realized we're going on this date-"

"Outing."

"Alright babes. So we're going out and I still don't know what to call you?"

The man stared blankly. "You call me things all the time?"

Sighing in exasperation as the Prompt went completely over the man's head he gestured them forward. "I meant your name hon."

"Oh! My name is Janus."

Tilting his head in surprise, Remy regarded him for a moment. "Janus. I like it. Really suits your aesthetic."

Janus seemed unsure of how to respond, scuffing his toes along the sidewalk rhythmically. "My aesthetic?"

"Yeah. Janus is a Roman god right? I can see it."

Offering up a blank look, the other man pursed his lips in thought. "No one...well usually people say that Janus is...an odd name."

Remy shrugged. "I took some course or other in high school that taught about ancient gods or whatever. People are bitches."

Moving away slightly, Janus nodded. "Undoubtably."

-----

Alexithymia.

Janus watched as everything seemed to click into place for his companion. This was always the tipping point in every relationship, friend or otherwise. Patton had been the only exception thus far that accepted the fact that Janus was a lost cause when it came to emotions.

No, that wasnt fair to himself. There was nothing wrong with him, he knew that. It was only the fact that he couldn't understand the emotions being processed. He knew he had them, he just could never quite pinpoint which ones, at any given time and what the reasons for them were. Sure it made socializing difficult, people often labeling him as awkward or withdrawn in any given situation; when in reality he just was rarely given enough time to try and pinpoint what one emotion was before being put in a situation where a different response was needed. It was honestly exhausting.

He bit his lip as he looked back over to Remy, seeing that same smile he always gave him that made his stomach flip every time. He tried offering one of his awkward smiles, feeling that that was the most appropriate for the situation.

Remy softened as he took off his glasses, turning to face him fully. "You dont have to do that around me, it's okay. Just be yourself, and tell me if and when you get uncomfortable yeah?"

Janus' eyes filled with tears as he twisted his fingers in his jeans. An intense wave of emotions came over him, making him choke slightly as he tried in vain to process everything. He felt Remy take his hands gently and squeeze them, tugging slightly as he unconsciously leaned towards the other.

Just two people sitting on a park bench in the late evening, with about 15 shots of espresso between them holding each other with a confused understanding. Janjs smiled, a very tiny one, but the first genuine one in a long time.

Despite everything, he had Remy. He knew he'd be okay.

This work is also available on AO3!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #remy sanders #remy sleep #deciet sanders #janus sanders #alexithymia

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