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tacticaldiary · 1 year

Note

Can you do a fic where reader and simon are kidnapped and simon has to watch reader be tortured and creeped on by their kidnapper for information.Happy endibg with them being rescued.Ignore if it makes you uncomfortable :)

Captured In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault

"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"

He's been trained to keep his mouth shut, taught himself from enough pain to span a lifetime, but never did he fathom she'd be dragged into it with him. It's unforgivable.

Masterlist, Part 2

A/N: This is literally one of my favourite tropes-

The first thing he registers is the pounding in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ghost claws his way back to consciousness, sluggish mind attempting to click the pieces swimming in his head together into a cohesive narrative.

He was asleep...no, he was unconscious. Why? Ghost doesn't open his eyes for a moment, gathering his bearings. His senses snap to him quickly. The metallic smell of blood, the scent of gunpowder. The hard wood under him...a wooden chair? He exhales sharply, charting the sharp stinging in his side.

Injured.

He can't move his hands, ropes digging into the skin above his gloves. Once he's grasped back his control, steadied his breathing into something calm and acceptable, he takes a second to listen. There's nothing but the steady dripping of what he assumes is water on the floor. A pipe?

He's cold. His hands are freezing and so is his face-

His face?

Ghost's eyes snap open at the realisation.

His mask was gone, ripped off and on the floor by his feet. He's tied to a chair. He doubts he'd have gotten such a warm welcome if he was back at base right now, so where...?

An RPG, he suddenly remembers, a sour taste in the back of his throat. They had been on an OP with Price, the team had been split into two, sent to clear out a building on the outskirts of the city, tasked to meet in the middle.

An unaccounted armed squad had aimed at them with an RPG. Ghost remembers barking out an order to his partner, shoving her roughly out of the way behind a beat up car. The rocket hit the car, igniting the engine causing it to explode, the both of them thrown back against the brick wall behind them and-

Her.

His blood runs cold at the sound of a small groan from in front of him.

Shit.

Slowly, he raises his head and his stomach drops at the sight of her opposite to him in the same state.

Shit. No, this was all wrong. The RPG must have knocked them both out. They'd been captured.

"Fuck, my head." She groans, blinking herself awake. Like him, he can tell she's charting up the extent of her injuries, piecing together the events leading up to their capture.

Price would find them soon. They can't have hauled them too far away under the threat of them waking up mid transportation.

"Sleep well?" He rasps, watching her still, head snapping up to look at him.

"Best I've ever had." She responds dryly, looking him up and down. Her eyes linger on the dried blood staining his shoulder. It's a miracle the both of them ended up as unscathed as they did. Only bruises and scrapes, miraculously. She yanks on her bindings, scowling when they don't budge. Ghost can see the angry red marks around her wrists, the same as his. "We're in for a treat, huh?" She laughs humourlessly, leaning back in her chair. "Don't suppose you keep any knives hidden in your sleeves, L.T?" Half joking. She wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"Can't feel 'em." He grunts. "Must have searched us."

Of course they did.

She shifts in her seat, hating the idea of hands touching and probing at her when she's not awake to bat them away. Ghost would be just as, if not more uncomfortable with the thought, if the angry furrow in his brow is anything to interpret.

Voices. Footsteps. Both of them go rigid in their chairs, eyes snapping to the other. No words are exchanged, but a slight raise of the chin from her. They would not break.

She knows exactly what's to come for them for the next however long it took for their team to retrieve them. She's been through this before, been trained for it, seen it happen, hell she's even participated on being the one not in the chair.

They wouldn't break. The knowledge they have could compromise more than just their current operations. Ghost acknowledges the shaky exhale she lets out, casts her an unreadable look before the door swings open behind him, his eyes turning cold once more.

If she notes the tension in his shoulders, she doesn't mention it.

Three men walk into the room, mumbling under their breath. Russian. A quick glance to confirm the other caught it.

The thing with the both of them is that they worked better together than anybody else in the team. Working in tandem, information exchanged with just a glance, seemingly in tune with every thought and movement of the other. It's why they were almost always paired together.

"Some of the best your the military has to offer, you are.." He smiles, flicking through the file. "It seems I have struck a goldmine." The file snaps shut, is handed off the someone else.

She hopes the motherfucker gets a nasty papercut.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

They come twice a day. Once for him, once for her.

Ghost keeps his mouth shut, isn't surprised when she does as well. The both of them have been trained for situations like this, have both gone through a lot of shit that renders them capable of handling it.

It's her that he hasn't been trained to account for.

Ghost had only jeered at the men that interrogated him. Drenched after being waterboarded, bloody from being cut and beat, he had not given them a single thing to work with, taking what they threw at him with a calm, strong, cool exterior.

It was when they turned to her that he felt that crack.

Every knife turned against her, every crack of her bones, each small sound of pain that left her had an anger he'd never felt before bubble up inside him. Glaring death into the people who lay their hands on her as they questioned her, he stayed silent, unmoving as they put her through the same routine as him.

"Not long before they find us now." She'd said hoarsely after the second day. They'd just left them after being unsuccessful in loosening their tongues. Again. He takes in how her arm bends at a strange angle (He'd never forget the scream that teared out of her throat when they snapped it in half), the cuts dripping blood onto the floor and on her tattered clothes (Each one he'd pay back tenfold, he swears), and the exhaustion lining her face the same way he's sure he looks.

Being unmasked...it makes him more on edge than usual.

It's nothing she'd never seen before. She'd touched his bare face countless times, mumbled promises and declarations they had no business making against his lips at night. It had always been in private, shielded from the eyes of others. Now, out in the open, he was more aware of his reactions than ever before, refusing to let out any reaction except for the occasional grunt of pain.

"They're sure taking their damn time." He spits out.

"Gonna give them an earful when I get back." She cough, watery. Ghost's eyes widen when blood splatters to the floor. "Shit." She breathes, inhaling shakily.

Internal bleeding. A telltale sign.

He yanks against his bindings for the hundredth time. Nothing changes aside from more blood trickling down his torn open skin.

"Don't think about it." He orders. "Look here." When she doesn't listen, just blinking at the blood she coughed up as if in a trance, he repeats himself roughly, drawing her attention.

"Right here. Keep your eyes on me." He commands, and it's all she can do to let instinct take over and listen to his low voice. "That's it, love. Good."

She opens her mouth. Shuts it. Swallows dryly and tries again. "If I-"

"Shut up."

"Ghost." She says weakly, "It's a possibility, and if-"

"I told you to shut up." He hisses, fixing her with a glare.

She was in a much worse state than him. Far bloodier. They were rougher with her, thinking she'd be the first one to break, to concede under pain and answer their questions.

Safehouses, plans, locations, inner workings. The intel they stole a month ago. They wanted to know answers that neither of them would ever give them.

The door swings open. The man from the first day walks in, in crisp clothes, wrinkling his nose and the sight of them.

The sight makes Ghost pause. He was in charge here, clearly. This kind of work wasn't normally put on people like that, which meant that things were getting serious. Something had sparked urgency in them if they were seeing this guy. Something had changed.

The 141.

As if on cue, there's the distant sound of gunfire, and the building trembles slightly, dust cracking down from the ceiling. It's ignored by the man completely.

"Admirable, you are." He addresses them. "But I'm afraid there's not time for a soldier's pride during war." They stiffen when he pulls out a revolver from his pocket, clicking open the empty chamber. "I require answers. Call it compensation for what was stolen from me. I don't think you understand that I will get my way in the end. By whatever means necessary."

A single bullet. Loaded into the chamber. Ghost follows the movement with his eyes.

"I'll give you a final chance to be cooperative before I give you a choice." The Russian says evenly, looking at them both in turn.

"Go to hell." Ghost drawls. In his bloodied, beaten state, weak from blood loss and in a disarray from being tortured, he seems to look even more intimidating than usual.

The man sighs deeply. He clicks the chamber shut.

He aims at her and fires.

She barely has the chance to tense before a click fills the room. Nothing. It's when he turns the gun to Ghost that her breath catches in her throat, panic clawing it's way up and through her veins.

Ghost does not flinch. Does not wince or react, merely holds her gaze calmly, in that reassuring steady way he always has.

Click. Nothing.

He continues moving back and forth between them until there's only one chamber left. An undeniable bullet inside. The man turns to Ghost, a smile on his face.

"The choice you have, my friend, is which one of you I put this bullet through."

Ghost visibly stiffens in his chair, fixes him with a scathing stare.

"If you refuse to answer, I have no issue shooting you both." He says evenly, weighing the revolver in his hands. "So who will it be? You, or your lady?" He points the gun back and forth, her heart in her throat.

Me. She thinks. Pick me. The thought of him taking that bullet when there's a choice for her to instead makes her sick.

But it's Ghost. And he's selfless in the most annoying of ways.

"Me." He says tightly, the words forced out and full of venom.

The Russian grins, pleased, raising the gun. She's about to yell at him, tell him to shoot her instead-

She doesn't have to.

The gun turns to her, fires, and pain explodes in her right thigh, wrenching out a scream from between her clenched teeth as she doubles over. Her vision goes black for a second and she can't breathe.

Yelling. There's yelling over the ringing in her ears. Ghost shouts profanities at the man, threats and growls as his chair scrapes against the floor at his attempts to get loose.

He breaks.

The Russian simply laughs, tucking his gun away.

Where the fuck were they? Where were the others? The team? They were close, that much was obvious, so why the fuck weren't they here yet, then?

She gasps when her head is wretched back painfully by her hair, pain thrumming through her like sharp needles as she's forced to straighten up. It hurts, fuck, it hurts worse accompanied with every other goddamn thing wrong with her right now.

"You just couldn't seem to stop looking at her. I thought It'd be more of an incentive to loosen your tongue." He chuckles at Ghost's fury.

"They won't find your body." He hisses, low and threatening, eyes wild. "I'll make sure you're in so many pieces you-"

"I understand why, though." He continues on like Ghost isn't threatening great bodily harm on him. "She's quite the beaty isn't she? Even under all that gore...so easy on the eyes."

She had taken beating after beating. Cracked ribs, cuts and bruises, waterboarding and being prodded with a hot poker, but this? The lecherous way he looks her up and down, yanks he head back farther to expose her neck? It makes her blood run cold, her heart stop.

His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body, grabbing and yanking and pulling in places he has no right to touch. Her head spins from the bullet wound and the pain, and it takes a lot to gather her thoughts.

"Motherfucker-" Ghost snarls.

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" He croons at Ghost, who jolts in his chair, pulling at his bleeding broken skin to get loose. "Not that you can do much but watch." He laughs.

This, she would not let happen. She would not let him take something that was hers and hers alone to give to whomever she decided. When he leans down farther, she gathers all her remaining strength and rears her head back, smashing it into his nose.

The satisfying crunch of bone and yell of pain makes it all worth it, draws a smile from her, even if his blood splatters the side of her face.

"Bitch." He spits out. A hand cracks across her face so hard black spots float over her vision. She cries out as it jostles her leg, her broken arm, all her cuts and and he ribs. Before she can gather her bearings, a searing pain pierces through her side, the Russian's knife driving straight into her flesh. She can't help the choked scream that leaves her, hears the way Ghost shouts, his struggling intensifying.

He wretches her out of the chair, shoves her to the floor. Tears track down her bloodied cheeks, not out of fear, but out of pure pain and anger. Disgust, pain and rage is what she feels when the Russian straddles her hips, keeping a hand on her broken arm to keep her down. His other one wraps around her neck, squeezing roughly to cut off her air.

"Answer my questions." He seethes at Ghost. "Your safehouses, the intel you fucking stole from us. Where are they!? Tell me or you'll see this pretty thing die." As if to prove his point, he squeezes harder, making her choke.

Ghost spits out threats that would make any normal man quiver. He would rip this man apart. Rip into him slowly with all his knives, prolong it as much as he could. Days, maybe even weeks. He deserved to die by his hands for what he's done to her, for touching someone so wholly and utterly his. Every single cut he'd return tenfold, twice as deep.

Part of her wants to succumb to the darkness edging her vision, but she's afraid if she does she might never wake up. She couldn't die. Not here, not like this. Ghost...Simon would blame himself, she knows it. He'd replay it over and over again, wonder if he could have done anything to prevent it.

"Get the fuck off of her!" He seethes. Seeing her under him, red in the face and bleeding, dying makes panic tear through him, a horrible desperate feeling he can't help but succumb to. She wasn't going to die, he wouldn't allow it.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her. Take me instead.

The world was fucking cruel.

The past year had been the best of his life. The lightest, the most at peace he'd ever felt. Loving her came easily, naturally. Something he couldn't help even when he tried to push her away.

Her eyes catch Ghost's. His are desperate and frantic in a way she's never seen before. That...that was panic. But that couldn't be right because Ghost? He didn't panic. He planned and adapted, got angry and was calm. Panicking? She'd never seen it before.

Fuck. She wasn't going to die. She...was, wasn't she? Already, her vision was slipping away, her hearing going muffled. No. No, this isn't it. Not here, not like this.

If she died, Simon might, as well, and she loved him to much to leave him in a situation like this.

Clenching her jaw, she blindly reaches her bound hands to her side. When her fingers brush against the hilt of the dagger inside her flesh, she pauses.

It was the only thing keeping her from bleeding out faster than her bullet wound was already doing...

She yanks it out with all the strength she has left, slams it into the throat of the man above her. He's too busy with Ghost to chart her up as a threat. The way his eyes bug out of his head as he releases her throat in favour of clutching his own has a sob ripping through her mangled throat as she gasps in greedy gulps of air.

She shoves the man off her and in movements wild and jerky, climbs on top of him switching their positions. Ripping the knife out of his throat, she yells a broken shout as she brings it down over his chest. Then his shoulder, his neck. His chest. Over and over again, tears blurring her vision, adrenaline making her shaky, she drives the knife into him again and again thinking about nothing but killing him, taking his life so he couldn't take theirs, so she could feel her skin stop itching from the way she was touched.

"-dead, he's dead!" A voice floats to her, far, far away.

A name...her name. Her movements slow down as she recognises Ghost's voice calling out at her. Confused, disorientated, she glances over her shoulder, pausing, chest heaving.

"You're alright, sweetheart." He says, his eyes a fraction wider than usual. "Here, look at me. Right here, love." He waits till she drags her gaze up. "He's dead. It's enough."

Enough.

The word cracks something in her, the knife clattering onto the stone floor and she looks down at the bloody, unrecognisable mess under her. Scrambling off of him, she leans over and vomits up bile; acrid and burning her throat as it comes out. A strangled sob leaves her as she finishes, realising the sheer amount of blood on her. Her hand shakily goes to her side, comes back bloody in a way that makes her head spin.

"Grab the knife." Ghost urges, looking ready to try to snap the chair under him himself to reach her. "Can you do that for me? Pass me that knife." When she doesn't respond the way he wants, Ghost takes in a shaky breath and repeats himself, voice hard.

"Sergeant. The knife." He commands, low and deep and urgent.

Still a soldier despite her trembling, her body reacts to the order automatically, head clearing. Swallowing, she moves slowly, agonisingly to reach the knife.

"You're doing good." Ghost praises when she drops the knife for the second time from her shaky fingers. "Bring it here."

The moment the knife reaches his fingertips, he cuts through his bonds, kneeling in front of her, cutting hers off too. "I've got you." He murmurs, pulling her close, laying her over his lap as gently as he can as he looks over her. He doesn't really need to, it's more instinct to do so. Ghost was watching her the entire time. He knows the location of every single one of her injuries.

Swearing under his breath, he leans over, roughly rips part of the dead man's shirt off, bunching it up and pressing it against each of her two wounds. She whimpers, a strangled sound that makes him clench his jaw in rage and worry.

"I know it hurts." He consoles her while he secures another part of the shirt around the wounds. "You did well, it's over now." Mindless talk. He just needed to keep her awake.

Her hand closes over his, stilling him as he ties the final knot.

"'m sorry." She breaths, shallow and short. "Can't...Just go." She shoves weakly at his shoulder, and the incredulous, angry look Simon gives her would have been funny if everything wasn't on fire inside her.

"I'm not fucking leaving you, you dolt." He snaps, slowly pulling her up so she's sitting. The way she bites her lip hard to keep in the whine of pain doesn't escape him. "Easy." He says, supporting her despite his own screaming ribs. His left leg was mangled up, ankle dislocated so Ghost doubts he'd be walking with her out of here.

It was too risky. They could run into someone armed, and at such a disadvantage...no, it was better to stay here and wait for the others to show up.

Her eyes flutter, panic slams into him.

"None of that." He demands, prodding her forehead to make her focus. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, love."

A small huff from her that might have been a laugh sends her into a harsh coughing fit. "'m trying Simon." She whispers, words slur.

"Try harder." He squeezes her closer to him, keeping an ear out for footsteps.

"So hard to please." Barely a whisper. "You...you're okay?"

"Christ, woman," he huffs, leaning down to press his lips against her bloody forehead. "I'm better off than you."

A slight smile, her eyes fluttering shut. The loose grip she'd had on Ghost's vest slackens. His bloods turns to ice.

"Hey." He tries, calls out her name. "Hey!" He yells it this time, shakes her gently. Then rougher when she doesn't wake up, breath stuck in his throat. No. No, she was still breathing, he chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

This wouldn't work. Ghost steels himself and stands up, gritting his teeth at the pain that radiates up his leg into his whole body. Ignoring it, he hauls her up in his arms, stumbles slightly.

Staying here wasn't an option anymore, not when she was unconscious, not when the small puffs of breath against his neck could stop at any moment, not when he could lose her.

Gripping onto the small bloody knife, he limps towards the door, pushes it open without hesitation.

He'd walk for a mile like this if it meant he'd get to hear her laugh again. Fuck his own injures, her wellbeing was more important. Ghost moves the knife between his teeth, bone clacking against metal, metallic blood on his tongue. Hiking her up more securely, he starts down the hall, intending to find his team before they found him.

He'd die before he ever let her bleed out on his watch.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her hearing comes to her first. Muffled, but still present. Under the dark haze of sleep, she hears muffled noises. The steady beeping of a machine, the rustling of bedsheets nearby. A voice talking int he distance, something she's unable to make out.

It takes too much out of her. Her mind is sluggish, thinking is hard, so sinking back into the arms of whatever is pulling her down is easier. Painless.

The second time her sense of touch returns.

Someone's holding her hand. Rough, calloused fingers, running up and down her palm, soothing gestures than accompany the beeping that she realises is a heart monitor. The familiar pressure, the roughness of those hands, the soothing movements...it lulls her back to sleep almost immediately.

The third time is quick.

Her sight returns last, One moment she's seeing darkness, the next she's blinking up at white florescent lights, the clean scent of hospital waking her up. What...?

Pushing herself up, a gasp tears out of her throat when she finds herself unable to move. Blinking and looking down, she swallows as she sees herself.

Covered in bandages, a cast around her arm. Heavy wrapping around her thigh and chest. All of her is stiff and achy. It all comes back to her in a rush.

The chair. The ropes. The bullets and beatings.

The blood.

Her stomach lurches at the memories. Simon? Where was Simon? He made it out, right? What if-

Her mind immediately settles down when she spots him. Ghost lays on the hospital bed next to hers, eyes shut, chest steadily rising up and down. Relief slams into her so hard tears prick her eyes. They made it out. Both of them. For a moment she thought...

The need to be near him, to touch him, to make sure he's real wins over her desire to stay put and ward of any discomfort. Her second attempt at moving is successful, only because of the strong pain meds dulling the edge of pain she's feeling.

Slowly, she pulls herself to the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly lowering herself onto the ground. She gasps when her leg protests, the one she was shot in. Testing her weight, she glances desperately at Simon, still sleeping. She needed him, needed to touch him, to feel him under her hands, solid and real.

She uses the walls to support her, shuffling over until she's in front of his bed. After taking a moment to gather herself and breathe, she reaches out with a shaky hand, places it on his cheek. Her throat closes at the feeling of his warm skin.

Ghost being Ghost wakes up instantly at the touch. Eyes snapping open, instantly alert even when just waking up.

Relief fills his face, something so powerful it makes a small sound push past her lips, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're okay." She whispers, hoarse from not talking.

"You shouldn't be up." He responds, propping himself up with a wince she doesn't miss. He frowns at the way she trembles, looking her up and down slowly.

"I just..." She brings a hand up to wipe off her tears. "Sorry if I woke you." A watery chuckle. "Just needed to make sure, you know?"

"I do." He admits. Ghost's hand slips up her uninjured arm, guiding her onto the bed with him until she's laying down. A long, shaky exhale pushes itself out of her as she lays her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, quicker than usual but still steady soothes her instantly. He was familiar, the dips in his body, the hard muscle and those arms. It was so achingly familiar she wanted to cry.

Having her here, having her in her arms and holding her...it was almost too much to bear. Ghost had never felt relief like this.

11 days.

11 days she hadn't woken up, each one made him more irritable, restless, snappy. He was ordered to stay in bed, but he got out of it every night to sit next to her, holding her hand, just silently watching over her. 11 days was plenty of time for him to think, to run through everything he did to figure out a way he could have prevented this.

It was plenty of time to realise that he'd never take her for granted, even if there was a gun to his head.

He'd carried her all the way out of the building until he'd spotted Gaz. The poor bloke had done a double take at them, shouted something frantically in his comms and ran at them.

Ghost had forced himself to stay awake as the others arrived, forced himself to make sure she got the care she needed, sat awake with the the entire time on the heli, until they got to the hospital. Only then had he let himself get checked over and crashed hard, exhausted in a way that ran deep into his bones.

"I'm glad you're okay." He says quietly into her hair, strong arms pulling her close, their bodies intertwined.

"Are you sure this is okay?" She asks, though the way she sinks into him says she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Don't want to accidently hurt you or reopen anything."

"You're worse off than me, I think I should be the one worrying about that." He responds, rubbing small circles on her waist. Soothing. Calming.

"I'll always worry." She mumbles against his chest, already feeling sleep pulling her in.

"Your downfall." He huffs, pressing his lips to her forehead for a long moment. "Thought I lost you." The admission is something vulnerable, real. Painful.

"Rather me than you." She responds, eyes slipping shut.

"Say that again and see where it lands you." He grumbles, arms tightening around her. Being as helpless as he was in that situation wasn't something he'd ever forget. Having to sit there, watch those bastards touch her, hurt her, forcing himself to look impassive and cold. Unreacting.

It had been a worse torture than any of their knives.

The second he was cleared to leave the medbay, he was going on a nice little trip back. He'd retrace his steps, get Price to get him the name of every. Single. Motherfucker that had been in the building that day.

Every single one would meet a fate worse than death itself could present them with.

They'd pray for the reaper before Ghost was done with them. He'd make them beg, draw out every single scrape they left on her until they begged to be spared. Only then would Ghost let them bleed out, nice and slow. Maybe he'd even do it one at a time, make the others watch.

They're dark thoughts, but the fury that had been boiling inside him for the past two weeks needed to an outlet, and what better place than the very bastards that had dared to lay their hands on her? The thought pacifies him for now.

He's assured his revenge, but she's more important than anything like that could ever be to him.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You can't get rid of me that easy, though. Thought you knew that by now." Completely unfazed by his threat.

"I wouldn't want to." He assures her, rolling his eyes. "It'd be a bloody shame to lose someone like you, love."

It makes her smile against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Safe. She was safe here.

It doesn't take long before she's drifted off again, securely in his arms.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(09/07/2023)

4K notes · View notes

fanficsformyfaves · 5 months

Text

Now, You're Mine

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Possessive!Rhea, Breeding Kink, Hickeys (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving), Cum-Filled Strap On (R Receiving), Bulge Kink, Mommy Kink

PREFACE: Rhea and Reader were hooking up on and off, but Rhea wanted her all to herself

A/N: Rhea's P.O.V. in Bold and Colored!

Flashback in Italics!

Texts in Bold and Colored!

Some surprise appearances by other WWE Stars!

THIS HAD ME GRIPPING THE SHEETS FOR REAL

Kinda toxic, but eh

RHEA'S P.O.V.

She was all I've ever wanted. From how beautiful she was, to her kind-hearted nature and quick wits, she was nothing short of perfection. I remember the day we met vividly.

I had just gotten done with my match and was grabbing a bite to eat with my friends.

"I'll take-"

"The chicken tenders", I say in unison with Fin and Priest.

The three of us laugh, as Dom shook his head.

"Typical", Priest mocked,

"Hey, I know what I like, alright?", Dom argued.

Snapping the menu closed and handing it back to the waiter.

"I'll be back", I say,

Dismissing myself and heading to the bathroom, but as I did, somebody walks out.

Time came to a sudden halt, as I took in just how beautiful she was. It was as if everyone else disappeared and we were the only people there.

She gives me a shy smile, before walking past me and heading back to her table. My eyes never leaving her, as she took her seat.

YOUR P.O.V.

I immediately walk back to my friends, trying hard to hide my flushed cheeks.

"You good?", Nikki questioned,

"Yeah", I hesitantly answered,

As my gaze fell upon her once more. I couldn't help it, even if I tried. Besides how breathtaking she was, there was just something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the jet black hair or the tattoos that masked her hands, either way, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"What's got you all shy?", Brie questioned,

Taking me out of my head.

"What?"

She turns to try and see what I was looking at and immediately caught on.

"Oh, she's so your type"

"Dear God, please shut up", I pleaded,

"Who?"

It was now Naomi's turn to look and she also began teasing me.

"Oooh", she taunted,

Nudging me.

"Guys, come on. Let's not embarrass her", Nat ceased.

During the time of my friends poking fun at me, she looks over and sends another smile my way. If my heart wasn't racing out of my chest already, it surely was now.

Once we were done with our food and paid the bill, her table was also finishing up their dinner.

"Now's your chance, don't be shy", Nikki egged on,

"Nikki!", I warned in a whisper,

"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Um, she could hear me?"

"You're really gonna let her go?", she emphasized,

Pointing, when I smack her hand away.

"Keep your hand down!"

"Sorry", she whispered,

"I think you should go for it", Nat chimed in,

"Oh, not you too"

"(Y/N), you've got nothing to lose. She says no and then what?"

"And then I die of embarrassment"

Causing her eyes to roll.

"Look, nothing's gonna happen, if I don't talk to her"

"Exactly. Nothing's gonna happen if you don't talk to her, which I personally think is worse", she retorted.

I take a deep breath, slouching back against the booth chair, when I notice her table begin to gather their things.

"It's now or never, champ", Brie added on.

Was I terrified? Absolutely...but after battling with the anxious chill in the pit of my stomach, I ultimately got up and carefully made my way towards her.

Every step feeling like boulders strung at my feet.

Once I was less than a foot away, I clear my throat in an attempt to catch her attention. She turns around and somehow, she was even more breathtaking up close.

Her eyes reflecting baby blue skies in them, as her lips curled up into a grin.

"Hi", I greeted,

"Hello", she smiles down at me,

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but, I think you're...really beautiful", I struggled,

I knew my face had turned a bright red by the way she eyes my cheeks.

"Do you, now?", she challenged,

"Yeah", I chuckled nervously,

"Well", she began,

Taking my hand inro hers.

"I said the same thing to my mates earlier. You're quite the sight"

My heart was on the verge of giving out.

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um", I say,

Glancing back at my friends, who immediately turned away.

"It seems we have an audience"

"Don't mind them, they're just nosy", I reassured,

Making her laugh to herself.

"I'm not doing anything"

"Perfect", she said,

Gently leading me outside.

We head back to the hotel she was staying at and after letting my friends know where we went, she started up a movie for us.

Let's just say the movie had simply become background noise.

Since then, we'd been hooking up on and off, but in all honesty, I wanted more. Don't get me wrong, what we had was beyond my wildest imaginations, but I often caught myself daydreaming about being more than just 'friends'.

It didn't help, the fact that she fueled these delusions. Intentionally or not.

In those moments, post-sex, there would be a glimmer of softness that made me melt from the inside out. A contrasting difference from how she would usually treat me in bed.

Little gestures she'd do, like playing with my hair till I fell asleep or tracing mindless shapes onto my back. It all just added to the already burdensome weight in my chest.

The longer this went on, the harder it became to keep my feelings at bay. The harder it got to avoid the questions that plagued my mind.

Would she want that too? What if she didn't? Would she get upset and cut me off entirely? I could have all the time in the world and none of it would be enough to find a single answer.

I was planning to just keep my mouth shut and take this secret to my grave...until I heard about Liv. She was Rhea's tag team partner and at first, I didn't think anything of it, till I saw their backstage interview, where she kissed Rhea's cheek.

Alarms immediately went off in my head.

I knew she'd been sleeping up with other people, but to actually see her flirt with someone else was the wakeup call I needed.

I decided to keep my distance for a while and eventually, she caught on. For the last few weeks, I'd been responding less to her texts and have ignored her late night calls all together.

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed her, but I knew I had to hold my ground.

(SUNDAY)

Rhea: Hey

Seen at 5:06 pm

Rhea: I haven't seen you in a while, how's things been?

Seen at 5:25 pm

(MONDAY)

Me: Good, you?

Seen at 9:03 pm

Rhea: Pretty busy lately, aren't you?

Seen at 10:00 pm

But what I think finally made things click for Rhea was when I run into her at Dom's birthday party.

As it was being thrown at her house, I knew to come prepared, so I put on the dress I knew she liked and paired it with the perfect heels. Between my hair, makeup and outfit, I was undoubtedly sure to make some heads turn.

Not even a minute goes by, before Rhea spots me and makes a beeline toward where I stood.

"Ladies", she greets,

As they all nod, before heading inside. She eyes me up and down, before taking a few steps closer.

"(Y/N)", she grins.

I cross my arms over my chest, avoiding her daunting stare.

"Beautiful, as always"

"Thanks"

She goes in for a hug, when I simply brush past her, leaving Rhea undoubtedly confused. For the rest of the night, I stood by, watching my friends get wasted and have the time of their lives.

I, however, was too distracted by Rhea watching me from across the room. The slicked-back hair, the leather top that perfectly showcased her strong arms. I was intoxicated solely by staring at her.

Somewhere in the night, my friends had completely disappeared and I was left on the couch alone.

That was until Sonya took the vacant spot next to me.

"I don't like parties either", she spoke,

Finally ripping my gaze away from Rhea.

"Hey, Sonya"

"You know my name?", her eyebrows meet,

"Yeah, I saw your match with Nikki and John. They invited me to watch"

"Oh, cool, your Nikki's friend. I'm assuming you came with her and Brie?"

"Yup, but...", I say,

Quickly scanning the room.

"I have no idea where they went"

"Well, Brie's probably throwing up the drinks she chugged and Nikki's probably hooking up with Cena upstairs"

"Probably", I chuckled,

Sipping my cocktail.

"But, hey, at least you got me", she joked,

Playfully nudging me.

"At least", I agreed.

"I hope this isn't me coming on too strong, but would you like to dance?"

"Um..."

I go to look back at Rhea and it was almost as if she was trying to communicate with her eyes.

It was now my turn to have fun.

"I'd love to", I turn back to Sonya,

Grabbing her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.

RHEA'S P.O.V.

What the hell was Deville up to and why was (Y/N) reciprocating it? I knew she'd gone almost radio silent lately, but I didn't think it was this serious.

My blood boiled at the sight of Sonya twirling her around, as her eyes raked up and down (Y/N)'s body. Shamelessly staring at what was mine. I knew I had only myself to blame, but I couldn't help but seethe with anger. It should be me grabbing her hips that way. It should be me making her laugh like that.

Had I messed up by not owning up to how I really felt? Yes, but I wasn't going to lose her over that. She was everything I could ever want and I'd be a fool to just let her go.

Having had enough, I shove my drink into Priest's chest and made my way over to them.

"(Y/N). Deville", I address,

Interrupting their laughter.

"Hey, Ripley", Sonya replied,

As I respond with a sarcastic grin.

"I need to talk to you", I address (Y/N),

"I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"(Y/N)", I cut off,

Causing her to be taken aback.

YOUR P.O.V.

I couldn't lie, the stern tone in her voice made my core ache and my knees go weak. I had no choice but to comply.

I follow her through the crowd and up the stairs, till we reach her bedroom at the end of the hall.

As we step inside, she closes the door behind her and leans against it.

"What do you want?", I questioned,

"Don't play dumb with me"

"I'm not", I egged on.

She scoffs, leaning off the door and taking a step towards me.

"Are we really going to do this?"

"I don't know...are we?"

I knew me challenging her was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I needed to know once and for all if this was something worth fighting for.

With a mischievous grin, she leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Do you really think Sonya, of all people, can treat you better than I can? Hm? Make you feel as good as I do?"

Her hands creep up to the small of my waist and pulled me in closer. I could feel my knees threatening to give out and was fighting so hard to stop it.

"Or was this all just to get my attention?"

She kisses up my neck and chewed on the lobe of my ear.

"You want me? You've got me"

Like I'd weighed nothing, she picks me up by thighs, causing a surprised gasp to escape me.

"All you had to do was say so"

She then carries me to bed and crawled atop me, kissing and licking up my legs.

"This dress. Fuck", she murmured against my thighs,

Before spreading them apart.

"Well"

Eyeing the wet spot on my underwear.

"I've barely started and you're already making a mess", she teased,

"Rhea", I whined,

"Yes, darling?"

"Please"

"Please what? You know I like to hear you say it"

I take in a deep breath, before finally locking eyes with her.

"Fuck me"

She smirks once more, before pulling away and walking over to her closet. I carefully observe her every move and once she was done digging through her clothes, she turns around, causing my stomach drops.

She's used straps on me before, but this one was...different.

"I've been saving this for something special, but of course you had to be a brat tonight", she says,

Stopping right before the bed.

"Take my clothes off", she ordered.

I crawl over to her, helping her out of her blazer, before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling her pants down.

Unbeknownst to me, she was already completely naked beneath her clothes. The sight of her exquisite body never failing to drive me crazy.

"My turn"

She pulls my dress off over my head, leaving me in just my stockings.

"No underwear? God, you are a slut"

And without wasting another breath, she pulls me in by my waist, whilst wrapping her lips around my hardened buds.

Desperate moans and whines escaping me as she did so.

"You're so much nicer when Mami's got a hold of you, hm?"

She then pushes me onto my back, before spreading my legs and ripping my fishnets down the middle. She must've sensed my concern, by the way her eyes flickered up to me.

"I'll get you new ones", she reassured,

Before pulling back and securing the toy around her hips.

I was practically drooling from how good she looked. From her inked hand rubbing up and down the dildo, to her insatiable eyes eating me alive, I could've cum right then and there.

"I need you, Mami, please", I pleaded,

Tugging her lips up into a smirk.

"I know you do. Why else would you try so hard to get my attention?", she teased,

Licking the shell of my ear and sending a chill up my spine.

In a flash, she throws my legs around her waist, dragging me in closer, whilst rubbing the tip of the strap against my entrance.

"Let's see if you can keep up"

She thrusts into me in one swift motion, filling me up to the brim and causing a cry to escape past my lips.

Her pace was immediate and rough, like the hand she snaked up my body, before settling around my throat. It felt like I was being split apart in the best way possible. The mixture of the pleasure and pain already causing tears to blur my vision.

"You're fucking mine", she grunted against my shoulder,

"Yes, Mami!", I cried out,

Grabbing her wrist.

With each merciless thrust, my orgasm was nearing faster and faster and I knew it was only a matter of time, till I came undone in her grasp.

"Fuck!", I whined under my moans,

"You're doing so good for me", she licked up my throat,

Reaching down to rub vigorous circles on my clit and yanking a final scream out of me.

"Do it. Cum for Mami", she demanded.

The stars in my eyes were all I saw, before being pushed over the edge.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I feel her hand pull back to squeeze the base of the toy, causing it to spurt out ropes of warm sticky liquid all over my clenching walls.

I let out a surprised gasp, as Rhea chuckled against my neck. She looks back up and smashed her now-smudged lips against my own.

"Now, everyone here knows who you belong to", she teased.

My stomach dropped at the realization.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #demi bennett

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yannawayne · 2 months

Text

ii. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Mild sexual jokes, Making out AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

“Hey, I’m Jason. Don’t freak out, but I think he’s cheating on you.”

Damian’s protest was immediate and alarmed. “I am not! Todd!”

Jason waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Pretty sure I saw him with some redhead just last week—”

In the background, the distinct clink of Damian’s katanas being unsheathed was audible. The phone jerked violently as the struggle intensified, Tim’s voice cutting in with panic. “Alright, alright! Don’t stab him! Here’s your phone back.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Monday, 11:15 PM - ???, Gotham City.

THE METAL DOOR GROANED as it was forced open, releasing a cloud of dust that sent you into a brief coughing fit. Selina chuckled softly, her figure silhouetted against the dim light filtering through the grime-coated windows. She stepped inside, her movements graceful, each footfall echoing in the vast emptiness of the warehouse.

"One of my safehouses," she explained, the door clanging shut with a heavy thud behind you both. "Secluded, off the grid."

The walls were lined with old crates and rusting metal shelves, their contents long forgotten. Selina flicked a switch, and a single, flickering bulb sputtered to life, casting a dim, yellowish hue over the room.

"We can lay low here for a while. Think of this as your personal hideout," she added, brushing dust off a table. "No one knows about this place—not even Batman."

You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes scanning the room. The space had clearly fallen into neglect, the floor scattered with debris, and the windows fogged with years of grime. The overhead light flickered intermittently, casting shifting shadows that danced eerily across the walls.

Selina leaned against a stack of crates, her watchful eyes following you as you explored. She gave you a moment to take in the space, the silence between you filled only by the soft creaks of the old warehouse. Eventually, she pushed herself away from the crates, her steps almost silent as they pressed into the thick layer of dust that coated the floor.

Her hand found your shoulder, firm but reassuring, guiding you gently to the side. "Come on," she said. "I want to see something."

You followed her through the cluttered space, weaving between old barrels and rusting equipment until you reached a clearing. Here, the walls were less covered by debris. The area was bathed in a slant of sunlight streaming through a dirty skylight, illuminating the dust motes that floated lazily in the air.

Selina stopped and turned to face you, pointing to a wide stretch of wall. "Show me what you can do. Use those hands again."

"Sure," you replied with a nod, a faint smile attempting to mask your nerves. You shook out your hands, trying to rid yourself of any lingering nerves. "Seems easy enough."

You approached the wall, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You placed your hand on the cold, rough surface, feeling it grip back. With a careful lift, you brought your other hand up and pressed it against the wall, then followed with your feet.

Before long, you were clinging to the surface, limbs spread wide. You began to climb, your start slow and careful, but as you settled into the rhythm, your confidence soared. You ascended effortlessly, and with a final leap, you swung up to hang from the ceiling, a playful grin spreading across your face as you looked down at Selina.

Selina craned her neck to watch you, a glint of pride in her eyes as she applauded slowly.

"Not bad," she called up, warm and approving. "Now, let’s see if you can get down."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the jump. Channeling the superhero landing techniques you’d seen on TV, you leapt from the ceiling, aiming for a smooth descent on your knees. But reality had other plans.

SLAM!

You landed with a jarring thud, your knees slamming into the floor with a loud slam. The shock shot up your legs, making you wince as pain flared through your joints. You let out a half-groan, half-laugh, collapsing to the floor in a heap and clutching your knees.

“Oww, damn it,” you muttered, wincing as you rubbed your knees, trying to ease the sting. “Okay, superhero landings: they look badass, but they sure as hell don’t feel badass.”

Selina stifled a snort, a smirk playing at her lips as she watched you.

"You know," she drawled, "in real life, landing like that is a surefire way to mess yourself up." She arched an eyebrow, raising a finger. "Lesson one: don’t slam all your weight on your knees or legs. Roll with it and spread out the impact. Trust me, your joints will thank you."

With that, Selina moved to demonstrate. She climbed onto a low shelf, her posture perfect as she stood poised on the edge. With a graceful leap, she descended smoothly, her landing controlled. She rolled into a crouch, looking ready to spring into action.

"See?" she said, brushing off imaginary dust with a smirk.

You shot her a glare from where you were still hunched on the floor. "Okay, okay. I get it. No superhero landings."

Selina gave you an approving nod. "Exactly. Now let’s see if you can pull it off without turning me into a laughing mess."

"Alright, I'll give it another shot," you said, pushing yourself up. "But if I end up in a heap of broken crates, it's totally your fault."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Training with Selina was a crash course in everything you thought you knew but didn't.

Parkour was the first hurdle—literally.

Each day kicked off with stretches and warm-ups before diving headfirst into rolls, jumps, and twists. Selina made it look like an art form, smooth and effortless like she was swimming through the air. You, on the other hand, had a style that was less about grace and more about grit—rough around the edges, but uniquely your own. It wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done. The city started to feel like your playground, and with every jump and scramble, you got better at making it your own.

Once you got a handle on the whole not-falling-on-your-face thing, Selina moved you on to flexibility training. Yoga quickly became your new frenemy. On the one hand, it was the calmest part of your day; on the other, you didn’t know it was possible to sweat so much while standing still. Then came gymnastics. Flips, spins, and handsprings made you feel like you’d signed up for a circus performance. You found yourself attempting gravity-defying moves that left you either soaring through the air or tangled in a heap on the mat.

Web practice was a whole different beast, mostly because Selina didn’t have much advice for swinging around the city like a manic Tarzan. The first few swings had you gripping the sides of buildings like a terrified cat. But after a while, something clicked. You stopped worrying about plummeting to your death and started enjoying the ride. Swinging through the air started to feel natural—like you were born to do it.

Then there was hand-to-hand combat, where Selina decided bare-knuckle boxing was the way to go. Turns out, punching things with super strength was way harder than it looked. You didn’t just hit things; you obliterated them—cracks in the floor, dents in the walls, and one unfortunate punching bag that went on a one-way trip out the window.

And, of course, there was that time you got a little too cocky, tried to throw a fancy combo, and ended up clocking yourself in the face. That bruise was a harsh reminder that super strength was great—until you’re the one on the receiving end.

Every one of these skills was drilled into you, over and over, until it was muscle memory.

Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were days when you felt like you’d made zero progress and nights when your body ached like you’d been hit by a train.

Selina had a knack for pushing you to your limits—right to the brink, but never over. It was like she had some weird sixth sense for when you were about to break—she'd pull back, giving you just enough room to catch your breath before diving back in.

There was something oddly comforting about it too, like she was slowly molding you into something more, even if she had to drag you kicking and screaming the whole way.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 4:01 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

5 Days Later.

Right now, you were in your bedroom, the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. The clock on the wall ticked towards four, and according to your new training schedule, it was time for yoga.

You found yourself in mid-crow pose, balancing on your hands with your knees resting on your upper arms. A YouTube video played on the floor nearby, the instructor’s calming voice offering a steady stream of tips and encouragement.

“Focus on your breath,” the instructor advised. “Keep your core engaged and your gaze forward.”

You exhaled slowly, settling into the pose with a growing sense of ease.

Just as you were beginning to settle into the routine, your laptop rang with a FaceTime request. With a quick shift of weight to one hand, you reached over and tapped the screen of your phone to answer the call. You nudged the video to full screen with your free hand, giving your full attention to the incoming call.

Damian’s face appeared on the screen, blinking in surprise as he took in the sight of you. His hair was tousled, and he was dressed in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his physique. He was lounging in bed, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of a well-lived-in space: rumpled sheets, a few scattered books, and a delicate, ornate cup of chai karak on the nightstand.

“Habibti. Are you... doing yoga?” he asked, a slight red tint on his ears

You tried not to grin too widely as you held the pose. “Yeah, believe it or not. It’s part of my new training routine.”

Damian’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. His eyes briefly traced over the tensed-up muscle of your arms, a hint of admiration flickering in his gaze. “Training? I wasn’t aware you had an interest in such pursuits.”

You hummed softly, stretching out your legs with practiced ease, each movement a dance. Your body, defined and taut, seemed like a sculpted work of art against the soft light filtering through your bedroom. Damian’s gaze followed the elegant curve of your back, lingering over every contour as if he were trying to memorize each detail.

“Well, Selina's been pushing me to get better. Uh... self-defense and all. It’s been intense, but I’m actually enjoying it.”

Damian nodded slowly, his eyes never straying from you. His usually steely gaze softened into something warmer, almost embarrassingly dopey, with hearts practically swimming in those steamy forest greens. He shifted on his bed, fingers drumming absently on the edge as he continued to watch, utterly captivated.

You followed up with a few air push-ups, grunting slightly as you bent your arms down.

The effort seemed to spur Damian more than you’d expected. His cheeks flushed deeply, and he quickly raised his phone's camera to the ceiling, desperately trying to hide his flustered face. He had always admired strength and discipline—traits he prided himself on and valued in others.

After a moment of awkwardly staring at the ceiling, Damian cleared his throat and adjusted his position, attempting to appear nonchalant as he lowered the camera back down. His attempt at casualness failed miserably. He was about as subtle as a brick being thrown into a window when it came to how much he thought you were beautiful.

“Well, I must admit, I’m rather impressed. I didn’t expect you to exhibit such dedication.”

You completed your set of air push-ups and settled back on your heels, a satisfied grin lighting up your face. “Thank you. It’s been challenging, but I’m making progress. Mom’s a tough coach, but her methods are effective.”

Damian’s gaze softened as he watched you ruffle your damp hair with a towel, the warmth of the setting sun casting a golden halo around you. The light painted your face with a soft, ethereal glow, highlighting the contours of your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. He shifted, lying on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow, but his emerald eyes peered out with a look of pure adoration.

"You're beautiful."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but you quickly cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice betraying a hint of the fluttering emotions you were trying to hide.

Just as the moment settled, a loud crash shattered the calm. Damian flinched, his phone tumbling sideways, leaving you staring at the ceiling. Incoherent shouting and raucous laughter spilled through the background, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of someone barging in.

“Grayson! You insufferable, blundering imbecile! How many times must I tell you to knock before you manage to comprehend basic manners? You’re a barely tolerable nuisance, a wretched excuse for a brother. Get out before I lose my temper!”

Oh.

You snorted and continued to listen as more voices joined in.

“Oh, Damian’s got himself a little video call buddy. I hope you’re making a fool of my little brother, whoever you are.” A tuft of dark hair with a white streak appeared briefly before the phone was yanked away, giving you a downward view of someone’s face.

Tim’s grinning mug filled the screen next, and he gave you a lazy wave. “It’s his girlfriend.”

Before you could react, Damian’s voice erupted from somewhere off-screen. “Drake, give me my phone back this instant!”

Dick’s head popped into view next, his blue eyes the only part of him visible as he peered at you with a mischievous grin. “Y/N! Give me the phone. I wanna say hi too!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, waving to the two of them. “Hey, guys. Glad you could crash my call.”

Tim shrugged, still holding the phone. “Sorry about this. You know how it is here.”

Damian’s voice grew louder and more insistent, practically vibrating through the phone. “If you don’t give me my phone back right now, I will—”

Before he could finish, the screen shifted again. The phone wobbled as Damian wrestled for it and Tim tried to pull it back. In the background, Jason’s voice cut through with a snarky tone. “No way she’s actually real. I thought she was just a figment of his imagination.”

“Stop! Unhand it! None of you insipid fools have any concept of how to behave with respect!"

Jason managed to snatch the phone away with a triumphant smirk, his eyes narrowing as he took you in. Among Damian's brothers, he was the one you saw the least. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't remember you.

“Hey, I’m Jason. Don’t freak out, but I think he’s cheating on you.”

Damian’s protest was immediate and alarmed. “I am not! Todd!”

Jason waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Pretty sure I saw him with some redhead just last week—”

Just as Tim was about to hand it over, Dick swooped in one last time, his face filling the screen with a very unflattering close-up of his mouth. “Wait! I didn’t get my turn!”

Damian’s screams and the scuffle of feet continued in the background. The phone changed hands again, this time revealing Alfred’s face as he peered down at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

“Say hi, Alfred,” Dick’s face appeared beside him, and the butler gave a warm smile.

“Good afternoon, Young Miss Kyle. I trust you’re well? We were all quite concerned after the incident at prom.”

You managed a small, sheepish smile, running a hand through your damp hair. “Thank you, Alfred. I’m doing much better now.”

Alfred nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad to hear that. Please take care, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything. Master Bruce sends his good wishes as well.”

Dick’s grin widened as he gently nudged Alfred aside and took back the phone. “See, even Alfred wants you to come over. It’s unanimous! Right, Cass?”

The screen shifted again, briefly showing Cass giving a thumbs-up and nodding. You signed a quick "hi," and she responded with a warm smile.

There was a final chaotic burst of shouting, tangled limbs, flying fists, and laughter before the screen spun once more, the sound of a door slamming shut echoing. Damian’s grumbling face reappeared, his expression a mix of frustration and relief.

“Apologies for the disturbance,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Damian. Your family’s just... lively.”

Then, squinting with a playful grin, you added, “Is your shirt... ripped?”

Damian glanced down, noticing the tear in his shirt for the first time. The rip ran diagonally from his shoulder down to his ribs, exposing the defined contours of his muscles beneath. The golden light from the setting sun danced across his form, casting soft shadows that highlighted the ridges of his physique. His cheeks flushed.

“Typical,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Damian set his phone down and moved to his closet. The aftermath of the earlier chaos was evident: a pillow half off the bed, books slightly askew on the shelf, and one of his katanas leaning precariously against the wall.

You whistled as he pulled off his torn shirt, admiring the way his back muscles shifted and flexed with the movement. Damian glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. After a moment, he retrieved a clean black shirt, slipping it on. He picked up the phone again, his face coming back into view.

“Better?”

“Much better,” you replied, still smiling. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if you took a little longer.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but his expression was warm. “Idiot.”

He settled back down, setting his phone on his lap, which gave you a perfect view of his arms as he leaned over. The muscles in his forearms flexed slightly as he adjusted the angle, and you couldn’t help but admire how his strength showed through even in such simple movements.

"So... Is it true? Do you really have a secret redhead on the side?" you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Damian's eyes widened, and he straightened up, instantly defensive. “What? No! Todd’s insufferable, and his only goal in life is to make me suffer. I would never—! I’m completely devoted to you. Their teasing is just a pathetic attempt to rile me up. I’m all in with you, no one else.”

You couldn’t resist, a cheesy grin spreading across your face. “All in, huh?”

“TT.” Damian’s face flushed even more, and he quickly hid his face from the camera, groaning in embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, deciding to shift the mood. “Are you going on patrol tonight?”

Damian’s face reappeared, more composed but still slightly flushed. “Yes, the usual rounds. Gotham never sleeps.”

You nodded, trying to sound casual despite the worry creeping in. “Just... be careful, okay?”

Damian’s expression softened. “I will. And if anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

You smiled, feeling a comforting warmth. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 2:20 AM - Catwoman’s Safehouse, Gotham City.

THWIP.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Selina taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she effortlessly sliced through the webs you cast with a flick of her claws. “I thought you were better than this.”

The dimly lit warehouse echoed with the rapid sounds of your movements as you and Selina sparred. At 2 AM, the night’s calm had long since dissipated, leaving only the two of you engaged in a relentless back-and-forth.

You grinned, focusing on your next move. “Oh, I’ve got plenty more. Just warming up!” You flicked your wrist, sending another burst of webs toward her, aiming to trap her legs.

Selina nimbly leaped over the webs, landing gracefully. “Warming up? You’re going to need more than that to catch me.” She charged at you, claws extended, slicing through the air.

You flipped away just in time, twisting mid-air to narrowly avoid her claws. You landed lightly on your feet. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly training me, you sure like to make things difficult.”

Selina smirked, turning to face you. “Aren’t you at least a little curious?” She teased. “Training isn’t supposed to be easy. If it were, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

You dropped into a boxing stance, fists raised and ready.

“Easy? Who said anything about easy?” You shot back with a quick jab aimed at her midsection. Selina dodged with a bend. Unfazed, you followed up with a powerful cross, your fist just grazing her cheek.

“Let’s see if your skills can match that mouth,” she sneered.

Frustration simmered, and you launched into combo of punches—left jab, right cross, left hook—occasionally shooting webs. Selina danced around them with cat-like grace. When you swung a particularly forceful uppercut, you shot a web at her feet. She leaped clear, laughing as she did.

“Getting better,” she admitted, landing a bit rougher than usual. “But still not quite there.”

You readied yourself again, stance firm. “Not yet, but I’m catching on.”

Selina lunged again, her speed almost blurring. You ducked under her swipe, but she adjusted mid-move and closed in with a sudden burst of speed. Her claws grazed your jaw, and you stumbled backward, trying to regain your balance.

“Damn,” you cursed, wiping a trickle of blood from your chin.

“Learning yet?” she replied with a smirk.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Charging forward, you fired a burst of webs that latched onto Selina’s torso. With a sharp yank, you reeled her in, closing the distance between you. As she was pulled within reach, you shifted your weight and threw a punch.

JAB!

The force of your punch connected solidly with her chin, knocking Selina backward. She hit the ground with a grunt but was quick to recover.

Huffing slightly, she sprang to her feet, brushing off the dust and massaging her jaw with a wry smile. “Nice hit.”

“Didn’t hit you too hard, did I, Mom?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice as you started to undo the wraps on your knuckles.

Selina chuckled, brushing off a stray web from her hair with an exaggerated flick. “Hardly. I’ve been hit harder by a wayward cat toy."—An obvious lie, you were a very heavy hitter—"But I appreciate the effort.”

You relaxed your stance, feeling a rush of accomplishment. “Just trying to keep up with you.”

"Is that so?" Selina said, gliding over to a table to grab a handful of ice, which she pressed against her jaw. She then slipped into a sleek, black jacket that accentuated her lithe frame. As she turned to you, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and a playful smile danced on her lips. “Still have some energy left?”

You rolled your shoulders, savoring the satisfying ache of a solid workout. “Yeah, I’m not quite ready to hit the hay yet.”

Selina gave a nod of approval as she bent to lace up her boots. “Good. We’re going out.”

Your eyes lit up, and you couldn’t hide your excitement. It had been days since she’d let you get out and test your new skills, and you were itching for some action. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yep,” Selina said with a sly grin, pulling a stray web from her hair. She tossed the ice pack aside, the cubes clinking as they hit the metal table. “Time to see what you’ve learned. Go get ready.”

You nodded and did as told.

You slipped on a red varsity jacket—Damian’s from the school’s soccer team. He was the star player, but he never actually wore it, so you decided to "borrow" it for yourself. The jacket was oversized on you, but it offered that familiar warmth and carried the faint scent of his cologne. Underneath, you kept on your training clothes: leggings and a sports bra, still damp from the warehouse workout. On your feet, you pulled on your red, ratty Converse, their worn-out soles feeling oddly comforting.

It wasn’t long before you and Selina were leaping across Gotham's rooftops, the city below a sprawling tapestry of glowing lights and deep shadows. The cool night air rushed past you, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the occasional whoosh of a passing vehicle far below. Each leap sent adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of the city’s pulse beneath your feet.

“Keep up!” Selina’s voice cut through the wind.

On cue, she vaulted off a high ledge, her body twisting mid-air like a dancer in flight. The moonlight glinted off her jewelry and caught the sharp focus in her eyes as she executed a flawless landing atop a streetlamp. The lamp swayed slightly under her weight, but she held her position with poise, a smirk playing on her lips.

With a grin, you shot a web at the streetlight, using it to swing in a wide arc around the pole. The momentum propelled you into a series of rapid spins, your laughter blending with the whistling wind as you twirled through the air. Releasing the web, you pulled yourself up and off the lamp, flipping effortlessly before landing in a smooth roll on the adjacent rooftop.

“Nice moves,” Selina called out. She leaped from the lamp with a fluid dive, twisting gracefully mid-air before she landed beside you, her boots barely making a sound on the rooftop.

Both of you continued moving, the exhilaration of the chase fueling your every step. The city lights streaked past in a blur of neon and shadow, each leap and swing a burst of adrenaline. As you bounded across another rooftop, something caught your eye—a large billboard, its bright screen flickering with the latest headlines.

The text burned across the display.

“Gotham High Senior Prom Interrupted by Villain Connected to Sionis Crime Family: Chaos Erupts.”

You came to an abrupt halt, your shoes skidding against the gravel roof. Breathing heavily, you tilted your head slightly and turned to face the billboard, your gaze fixed on the glaring headlines. The screen flickered to a live feed of a stern-looking news anchor.

“Last Saturday, prom at Gotham High was disrupted by a violent attack. Eyewitnesses reported a scene of utter chaos where a villain equipped with mechanical arms infiltrated the event, resulting in a brief but intense altercation. Several students sustained injuries. The assailant, identified as Octavius Burton, was apprehended by Batman and his partner, Robin.”

Tucking your hands into the pockets of your jacket, you turned as Selina began to make her way to you, your brow furrowing with concern. You could see her fingers flexing at her sides, a telltale sign of her mounting frustration. She pulled her sleek, black jacket tighter around her, the fabric rustling softly.

“Burton, a former professor at the academy, was terminated following inquiries into his activities connected with the Sionis Crime Family, an organization with known affiliations to the criminal figure known as Black Mask. Authorities are continuing to investigate the motives behind this incident.”

Black Mask was a touchy subject between the two of you, subtly pulling at threads of pain that neither of you fully addressed. His name seemed to drift into conversations like a ghost, stirring up the quiet ache of past losses—the kind that felt like a fresh wound, reopening old scars that neither of you had fully healed from.

“Have you seen anything strange lately?” you asked, trying to gauge her reaction.

Selina gave you a sideways glance, her expression thoughtful. “Funny you should ask. I’ve picked up on some strange shifts. The gang’s movements have been off—more frantic, almost like they’re gearing up for something.”

“And what do you think it means?” you asked carefully, trying to avoid pushing too hard.

Selina shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They’re usually pretty secretive, but something feels different this time. Like there’s a bigger play going on.”

You chewed on your inner cheek, feeling a familiar tightness in your chest. This was the most you’d managed to get her to talk about Black Mask or any of the darker aspects of her other life. It wasn’t often Selina opened up about such things, and the rare glimpses she offered were often fleeting, like shadows slipping through your fingers.

“Have you picked up any solid leads?” you asked, tugging at the sleeves of Damian's jacket. “Anything that might give us a clue about what’s coming?”

Selina’s expression grew more guarded. “Not much. Just fragments and whispers. But whatever’s brewing, it’s got those boys on edge. And when they’re on edge, you know something big is about to go down.”

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your chest. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, gathering the courage to voice your thoughts. When you opened them again, your gaze was steady.

“I want to check this out,” you tell her.

Selina froze. “I’m sorry, what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I can’t shake the feeling that everything’s connected. There’s too much coincidence here to ignore.”

Selina’s eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening as she took a step back. “What are you getting at?”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to keep your voice steady despite the knot in your throat. “Look, think about it. My parents died because of Black Mask. Then, this villain linked to him shows up at the prom. The next day, I wake up with spider powers, and my dad was working on spider-human DNA stuff. All these pieces—”

Selina cut you off. “You’re not seriously suggesting you want to dive into this mess yourself, are you?”

“I have to! It’s all connected somehow. I need to find out what really happened with my father. I need to piece it together myself,” you sputter.

Selina’s eyes widened slightly, and she let out a disbelieving laugh, her hand coming up to her forehead as if to steady herself. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Kid, don’t get ahead of yourself. Just because I trained you for a week doesn’t mean I’m about to let you go and get yourself tangled up with the Sionis Family.”

You bristled at her dismissive tone, stepping closer, you waved your hands around in desperation. “But you don’t get it. I can’t just sit back and ignore this!”

Selina’s expression hardened, her protective instincts flaring. “You think I don’t get that? I lost your mother—my sister—too. I know how hard it is. But rushing into danger without understanding everything is risky. The Sionis Family isn’t just a petty gang; they’re dangerous, with connections and resources that could put you in serious danger.”

You took a step back, feeling the sting of her words. “You think I’m too weak to handle it, don’t you? That I’ll just fall apart like everyone else you’ve seen?”

Selina’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant—”

“But that’s exactly what you’re implying!” you shot back. “You’re treating me like I’m still a kid like I can’t make my own choices.”

“You’re my daughter,” Selina said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “You are a child whose whole world was turned upside down with no explanation. You were left there all alone, on my doorstep. And I took you in because I couldn’t stand to see you lost and alone. Now, you’re asking me to let you dive headfirst into a world that killed everyone I loved and nearly destroyed me.”

You shook your head, trying to protest, but she silenced you with a raise of her hand.

“I know you're confused. I know you're angry. So angry about your mother's death. And, baby, I am too,” she whispered. “But you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t want this world to consume you before you’ve even had a chance to truly live. This life, it’s... it’s not what I want for you.”

“But what if this is what I want?” you asked quietly, looking back up at her.

“You’ll regret it,” she croaked. Her eyes were clouded with something you couldn't quite place—fear, maybe, or sorrow. As she pulled you into a tight embrace, her shoulders sagged, the tension seeping out of her in a slow, painful release. “I see myself in you, in all the ways I wished I could have been something different, something better. It scares me because I know all too well what this life can do.”

The news report had long since faded, replaced by a garish commercial that blared across the billboard. The vivid reds and yellows bathed both of you in an almost surreal glow, distorting the moment into something dreamlike and distant.

The relentless noise and flashing lights felt like they belonged to another world, far removed from the quiet tension between you. You simply nodded, your throat tight, and clung to Selina, the weight of her words settling into your chest as you hugged her back, holding on just a little tighter.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 3:43 AM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

The newly bought alarm clock, a hasty replacement after the old one met its demise the night after prom, glared at you with its green-tinted screen. Its bright blue neon numbers cut through the darkness, each digit pulsing with impatience:

3:43 AM.

You were seated at your desk, robin-themed socks snug on your feet and a green blanket draped around you for warmth. The soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face as you pored over a labyrinth of links and tabs, your eyes scanning for any scrap of information related to Octavius Burton. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the computer and the occasional click of your mouse.

Both you and Selina had returned from the run just an hour ago, the air between you still charged with unspoken words. Selina, visibly exhausted, had offered you a final, goodnight kiss on the cheek before retreating to her bed. The weight of your conversation had clearly worn her out, but you remained restless.

CLICK.

You clicked through a few more links on your laptop, but the information was frustratingly sparse—just fragmented reports and vague mentions that led nowhere. Restlessness gnawed at you, making the room feel too small, too stifling as if the walls were inching closer with each passing second.

Your gaze flicked to the window, where the city lights barely penetrated the thick curtains. The cool night air called to you, a whisper of freedom. An idea began to take shape, stirring a familiar itch beneath your skin—the urge to move, to escape, to find answers.

You grabbed your laptop and closed it with a decisive snap. The screen went dark, but the soft green light from your alarm clock still bathed the room in an eerie glow. You slid your feet into your shoes and approached the window.

Opening the window quietly, you peered out into the night, the cool air splashing against your face like a cold, refreshing wave. Using your spider powers, you crawled effortlessly up the side of the building. Once you reached the rooftop, you settled onto the edge, your legs dangling over the side.

Cool and refreshing, a welcome change from the stuffy room. You pulled out your laptop.

As you continued your search for information, the quiet of the night enveloped you, broken only by the occasional distant sound of the city below. It felt like the world had opened up just a little bit more.

With a click, you redirected your search to something more personal. You began scrolling through the company pages of Oscorp Industries, the old company where your father had worked.

You skimmed through employee directories, old press releases, and archived news articles. You paused at a page detailing the company’s history. Among the names and dates, you spotted a familiar one: Octavius Burton.

The text described him as a former lead researcher who worked at Oscorp Industries for a brief three years before his abrupt departure. Huh.

Shaking off your unease, you shifted your focus to a research site where your father had published his work. Searching for his name, you navigated to his profile.

Scrolling through his list of publications, you examined the coauthors and acknowledgments. Your heart skipped a beat when you came across a paper that mentioned Burton in its acknowledgments section. It read:

“Special thanks to Dr. Octavius Burton for his invaluable insights and technical expertise during the development of this project.”

A knot formed in your stomach as you closed the laptop, your head beginning to throb. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, but the edges were still blurred, the full picture just out of reach.

Scowling, you rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the growing tension that had built up behind your eyes. But before you could find any relief, the unsettling tingle of your spider-sense flared to life. It started as a faint prickle at the back of your neck, quickly escalating into a sharp, insistent warning that sent your heartbeat into overdrive.

!!!

Your body reacted before your mind fully processed the danger. You snapped your head around, every nerve on high alert. A shadow moved in the corner of your vision, and in the next instant, a figure dropped down from above, landing with a nearly imperceptible thud just a few feet in front of you.

Without thinking, you sprang into action. Your laptop tumbled from your lap as you lunged forward, your fist arcing toward the intruder's face. The impact was solid, your knuckles meeting the side of their jaw with a satisfying crack. The figure staggered, but quickly recovered, straightening.

"What? Looking for some more?!” you growled, swinging another punch aimed at the intruder. But before you could connect, a gloved hand shot up, catching your fist with surprising ease.

"Beloved?" The familiar voice cut through the adrenaline-fueled haze, laced with both surprise and a hint of irritation.

You blinked and looked up to see Damian, clad in his Robin suit. His jaw was already showing a deepening bruise, a mottled patch of red and purple swelling rapidly.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, mortified. The realization of who you had just struck hit you like a wave, your cheeks burning with heat. "I—I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to—"

Damian adjusted his stance, wincing slightly as he gingerly touched the sore spot on his jaw. “Really? Is this how you greet everyone who drops by? I’m both impressed and deeply insulted.”

He gave you a scrutinizing look, the white slits of his mask narrowing. “That punch—while forceful—was a bit too eager. A more controlled approach would be better. Precision and control usually work better than raw power.”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Are you... judging my punch?”

Damian’s lips curled into a smirk as he went on, clearly enjoying the moment. “And your balance was off. You need to keep your center of gravity more stable. Alignment and posture are key to effective strikes and maintaining stability.”

You rolled your eyes. “Brat.”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Damian said with a self-satisfied smirk, adjusting his gloves with a flourish. “It’s only fair that I offer some guidance. A bit more finesse and you might have neutralized me more efficiently.”

Your eye twitched. Men and their egos, you thought, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, sorry for not meeting your high standards,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your words. “Maybe next time, I’ll make sure not to punch the person who’s here to give me tips.”

Damian chuckled, crossing his arms with a grin. “It was a decent hit. You’ve managed to impress me. Think of it as a compliment. Most people don’t even get the chance to lay a hand on me.”

“I hate you,” you grumbled, but the words lacked any real bite. Despite your irritation, you found yourself stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his torso, and burying your face into his chest.

Damian simply huffed, amused, and placed his arms over your shoulders, the warmth of his embrace comforting in its familiarity. Even when he was being insufferable, there was something about him that made it impossible to stay mad for long.

“Why did you drop by anyway?” you asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

Damian’s arms tightened around you as he responded, “I was in the neighborhood. Curiosity got the better of me. And it seems I was right to investigate,” his gaze flickered toward your laptop, still lying on the rooftop.

You narrowed your eyes, not buying it. “Really? You just happened to be passing by? You know this is Catwoman’s territory, right? Seems a bit out of your way.”

“Tt,” Damian scowled, looking away as a faint blush crept up his neck. The tips of his ears turned a telling shade of red. “It’s not like I was actively searching for you,” he added, trying to sound indifferent. “Just a fortunate coincidence, I suppose.”

“Mhm. Sure, babe,” you murmured, reaching up to gently touch Damian's face. Your fingers traced a scar near his jaw with a tenderness that made him pause, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

“Idiot,” you said affectionately, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Hardly,” he replied, a subtle warmth breaking through his tone. Before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms with ease.

“Put me down,” you groaned, half-heartedly resisting. “I’m heavy.”

Damian’s lips curled into a smug grin, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffed, “Beloved, my bench press warm-ups weigh more than you.” The gravel in his voice took on a teasing edge, smugness bleeding into your ear. “Watch.”

Before you could react, Damian’s arms tightened around you, and with a quick, effortless motion, he tossed you into the air.

A startled scream escaped your lips as you flailed, instinctively shooting out a web. The sticky thread hissed as it latched onto the rooftop edge, pulling tight and catching Damian’s attention. His head whipped around, confusion clouding his features as he tried to make sense of the sudden blur of movement.

In the split-second of panic, you plummeted back toward him, landing safely in his arms.

Shit.

Without missing a beat, before he could fully look back, you grabbed his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened in shock, but as you deepened the kiss, his surprise gave way to something else. His arms wrapped around you, and he kissed you back with a fervor that matched your own.

After a few minutes, Damian tried to pull away, his curiosity still evident in his eyes. But you weren’t having any of it. With a soft, pleading whine, you drew him back in, your hands sliding over the contours of his armor. You whispered his name against his lips, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.

Beneath the hardened exterior and the carefully constructed armor, Damian was achingly soft. The mere thought of kissing you, of feeling your lips against his, had managed to distract him so thoroughly that the facade he worked so hard to project fell away like fragile shards of glass.

Damian’s attempt to pull away was fleeting as if he were tethered by an invisible thread pulling him back to you. His hands tightened around you, one sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, the other pressing firmly against your lower back, drawing you closer. He swallowed the honeyed sounds slipping from your lips, savoring every breath and murmur.

Your hands roamed across the edges of his mask, fingertips tracing the ridges and contours, teasingly attempting to slip it off.

Damian’s groan of your name was a low, throaty rumble that vibrated through your chest. His lips followed a fiery path down to your neck, each kiss a heated brand that made your breath catch, as if he were etching his mark on you with every touch.

Suddenly, the sharp crackle of Damian’s earpiece sliced through the intimate moment. His body tensed, and with a swift, almost robotic motion, he leaped several feet away from you, landing with a heavy thud. He straightened up, his posture rigid as he fiddled with the earpiece.

“Dam—Robin,” came Tim’s voice through the earpiece. “Eugh. What the hell is that noise? I thought you were on patrol. Are you seriously making out on the job? Redhood and I are getting an earful of... whatever that is.”

“Yeah, thanks for the front-row seat to the romance, demon brat. I’ll be sure to add that to my list of things I didn’t need to hear tonight. Next time, maybe give us a warning before you make me want to shoot myself.”

“TT,” Damian’s face turned a deep crimson as he yanked the earpiece from his ear with a grimace. In a burst of frustration, he slammed the device down, reducing it to a pile of broken plastic.

“Oh,” you said with an amused grin as he spun on his heel with a sharp, almost frantic movement and leaped off the rooftop in a swift, disappearing dive.

“Next time, maybe keep the earpiece off!” you called after him, the grin still playing on your lips. Damian responded with a speedier exit, vanishing into the night.

As the echoes of his departure faded, you let out a deep sigh, your grin slipping away. Turning around, you saw the web you had shot still clinging to the rooftop, its glistening strands catching the moonlight with an almost ethereal shimmer. Panic bubbled up inside you as you approached it, your hands trembling slightly.

Fuck. That was too close.

Taking a steadying breath, you carefully picked up the web, its sticky texture making your fingers feel oddly weighed down. With a swift motion, you tossed it off the roof, watching as it drifted into the darkness below. The night seemed to grow eerily quiet in the aftermath, each distant siren or rustle of leaves making your heart race with an anxious thrum.

You scanned the rooftop one final time, making sure no trace of the night’s events remained. Grabbing your laptop, you felt its reassuring weight as you turned and headed back to your room.

"I have got to be a lot more careful," you sighed to yourself, the words barely more than a whisper.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Monday, 2:19 PM - Chemistry Lab, Gotham Academy.

“...and as you can see, the rate of reaction increases with temperature, which in turn affects the activation energy required. Remember, it’s crucial to maintain consistent variables to ensure accurate results. Any questions?”

The room buzzed with the soft rustle of papers and the occasional murmur as students exchanged glances and half-heartedly raised their hands. A question from one of the students prompted Dr. Foster to shift to a new segment of the lecture.

You slouched over your desk, trying to focus on the textbook despite the monotonous drone of the lecture. The room felt stifling, the endless rows of lab benches and flickering fluorescent lights adding to the sense of tedium. Your pen drifted absently across the paper in your notebook, sketching spiders—each more intricate than the last. It was the third-to-last class of the day, and you found yourself counting down the minutes until freedom.

This was one of the only classes you didn’t share with Damian, and his absence made the wait for dismissal feel even longer.

With a sigh, you sketched a detailed spider, giving it a little mask and cape for amusement. The classroom’s buzz of activity continued around you, blending into a dull hum as you lost yourself in your sketches.

“You like spiders?” came a voice, interrupting your idle doodling.

You turned to find your seatmate, Morgan, looking at you with a curious expression.

Morgan Stark—her full name rolling off the tongue like something out of a high-fashion magazine—was your lab partner in Chemistry class and a standout at Gotham Academy. Top student, robotics prodigy, and the heiress to Stark Industries

You blinked, slightly taken aback. “Oh, um... yeah. I guess so. Just an interest.”

Morgan leaned closer, her chestnut hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. “Really? Most people find spiders creepy. What got you into them?”

You glanced at your notebook, where intricate doodles of spiders and webs sprawled across the page.

“I don’t know,” you began, pausing as you searched for the right words. “They’re just… fascinating. I like their webs.”

Morgan nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's pretty cool.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit more at ease. As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, students began to gather their belongings with a collective sense of relief. The clatter of backpacks and the rustling of papers filled the room.

Morgan leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a small smile. She tilted her head, studying you with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name again?” she asked, her hand moving to adjust the glasses perched on her nose.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. After months of sitting next to her, you'd assumed she’d have gotten it by now. Hell, you two did tablework assignments together, shared notes, and even collaborated on that tough group project last semester.

“You... don’t know my name?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Her eyes widened slightly, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. The blush deepened, contrasting with the freckles dusting her skin.

“Oh, I know your name,” she lied horribly, her voice faltering just a bit. “I… just want to know if you know it.”

A smile crept up your cheeks as you gathered your notebook and packed it away, your movements slower and more deliberate.

“I’m Y/N Kyle,” you said, offering a gentle smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Morgan said with a smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe next time we can trade more than just doodles and spider talk.”

“Sounds good,” you replied, sliding your backpack over one shoulder and standing up.

As students filed out of the classroom, you and Morgan exchanged a final look. She gave you a quick, playful wink before turning to join her friends, who were already waiting by the door.

Walking out of the classroom, the hallway was alive with the usual end-of-day hustle. Students rushed to their lockers, chatted animatedly, or headed to their clubs. The walls were lined with lockers, some ajar and spilling over with books and personal items. Conversations and occasional bursts of laughter echoed off the walls.

As you pushed through the crowd, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Damian:

SUGAR DAMI:

Beloved, I'm afraid I can't drive you home today.

I have soccer training that will extend until 5 o'clock.

You sighed, a touch of disappointment creeping in. Selina was out on a heist for the whole day, leaving you to your own devices. The thought of spending the rest of the afternoon cooped up in your apartment didn't exactly thrill you.

With a quick huff, you typed a response:

YOU:

No worries, I'll figure something out. Good luck with training!

You hit send and slipped your phone back into your pocket. Adjusting the strap of your backpack, you made your way toward the back entrance of the school. As you pushed open the heavy double doors, the crisp afternoon air greeted you with a refreshing coolness.

Stepping outside, you were met with a clear blue sky, dotted with only a few wispy clouds drifting lazily. The sun bathed the school grounds in a warm, golden glow, while the distant hum of traffic blended with the cheerful chirping of birds.

You made your way to a secluded corner of the school grounds, checking over your shoulder to make sure no one was around. With a nimble leap, you cleared the fence and landed lightly on the other side. Slipping into the narrow alleyway, your footsteps echoed softly off the brick walls as you made your way to the fire escape.

You scaled the metal steps with practiced ease, pulling yourself up to the rooftop. Once there, you rolled your shoulders, loosening up before taking in the expansive view. Your apartment was visible in the distance, but that wasn't your destination today.

With a final glance back at the school, you took off across the rooftops.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Monday, 3:25 PM - Catwoman’s Safehouse, Gotham City.

The journey to the safehouse was quick, the cityscape blurring by as you made your way. As you pushed open the heavy doors of the safehouse, the familiar scent of old wood and metal greeted you, a stark contrast to the crisp afternoon air outside.

With a tap on your phone, you opened Spotify and selected a playlist, the tunes soon filling the room from the speakers resting on a nearby table.

Don't wanna be an American idiot One nation controlled by the media Information age of hysteria It's calling out to idiot America

Still in your school uniform, you took off your blazer and tossed it somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your shirt and tie, slightly rumpled from the day's wear. The warehouse felt cooler without the extra layer, and the air against your skin was refreshing.

Using your shooters, you spun a hammock between a few panels of the wall. You jumped onto it, the webbed fabric creaking slightly as it adjusted to your weight. The hammock swayed gently as you settled in, the rhythmic motion easing the tension from your muscles.

As the music played on, you bobbed your head to the beat, letting the lyrics wash over you.

Welcome to a new kind of tension All across the alienation Where everything isn't meant to be okay Television dreams of tomorrow We're not the ones who're meant to follow For that's enough to argue

Settling deeper into the hammock, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling idly through the latest news reports. The headlines were grim, detailing the latest string of crimes committed by Black Mask. As a Gotham native, you were used to the constant stream of bad news, but it still made your stomach churn slightly.

One headline caught your eye.

"Multiple Tech Industries Robbed: Black Mask Suspected in High-Tech Heist Spree"

You click on the article, your eyes scanning the details.

"In the past week, several leading tech companies have reported break-ins and thefts, resulting in the loss of millions in high-tech equipment and proprietary technology."

The article detailed the affected companies and the nature of the thefts. Wayne Enterprises had reported missing nanotechnology components. LexCorp was missing cutting-edge encryption devices, while Queen Consolidated had reported the disappearance of prototype energy sources.

Your brow furrowed as you took in the list. Black Mask was stepping up his game. He was gutsy, you'd say that, targeting Wayne Enterprises when Gotham was practically owned by the company. Maybe you could ask Damian for info. He might have some insights that could help you in your personal little mission.

!!!

Then there was a tingling sensation, a familiar prickle at the back of your neck, like tiny electric currents dancing along your spine. It heightened your senses, sharpening your focus as if the world slowed down for a brief moment. You turned just in time to see Selina swinging in with her bullwhip, landing on the ground with a graceful yet forceful thud.

Smirking, you raised a hand in greeting. “You didn’t roll. You know that’s really bad for your knees.”

“Oh, please, honey. Turning my own words against me? I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you,” she said, rolling her eyes. She straightened up, her black leather suit catching the dim light that filtered through the dusty windows.

"Why so early?" you hummed. "Thought you were out for the whole day. Got caught by Batman again?"

"Caught? Please, I never get caught. I just let him think he has a chance," she scoffed, sauntering over to you, her boots clicking against the concrete.

She held a small, black bag in her hand and, with a casual flick of her wrist, tossed it your way. The bag flew smoothly through the air, landing with a soft thud against your stomach. You grunted slightly and caught it in your arms.

“What’s this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a little something I picked up on my way back,” she replied, leaning casually against a nearby crate. “Figured you could use a bit of excitement.”

As you opened the bag, you discovered a sleek, black suit inside. The material felt smooth and durable—definitely Kevlar. It was similar to Selina’s suit, but when you turned it around, a spider symbol was stitched onto the back.

“A suit?” you marveled, pulling it out for a closer look.

Selina smiled, lifting her goggles and moving to sit beside you. “I made it myself. Took a while to get everything just right, but I think it’ll suit you perfectly.”

You traced the spider emblem with your fingers. “I thought... you didn’t want me to go out into that world?”

Selina sighed softly, her expression softening as she watched you. “I was hesitant at first. You know how dangerous it can be out there. The streets of Gotham aren’t forgiving, and I’ve seen too many people get hurt—or worse—because they weren’t prepared. But I also understand why you feel the need to do this. It’s in your blood, just like it’s in mine. We’ve both got that itch.”

She paused, her gaze distant for a moment before focusing back on you. “When I first started, I was headstrong, eager to prove myself. I took risks, some stupid, some necessary, but I learned. This is my way of making sure you can learn the ropes without getting in over your head.”

"You're going to let me patrol?" you gasped out, a grin so wide it spread across the ends of your cheeks.

Selina’s tone sharpened. “Don’t think for a second this means I’m giving you free rein. I’ll be watching. One wrong move, and I’ll be right there to pull your little spider-butt back. But for now, consider this my way of making sure you’re ready.”

“Fuck yes,” you cheered, smiling as you hopped off the hammock.

She smirked, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, get suited up. Let’s see how you look in action.”

You took the suit and headed to a makeshift changing area in the corner of the warehouse. The material felt surprisingly light and flexible, molding perfectly to your body. You glanced at yourself in a cracked mirror propped against the wall. The sleek, black suit clung like a second skin, with the spider emblem standing out against the dark fabric.

Stepping out of the changing area, you caught Selina’s eye. She circled you once, then twice, before nodding in approval.

“Not bad,” she said with a smirk. “You look like you mean business.”

You smirked cockily, crossing your arms over your chest. “I do mean business.”

Selina raised a clawed finger, her tone turning serious. “Now, before anything, let’s set some rules. First, no killing—under any circumstances. That’s non-negotiable.”

You nodded solemnly.

“Second, stay away from gangs. That means no getting tangled up with Black Mask or his crew. They’re trouble.”

You deflated a bit but agreed.

“Third, avoid the Bats. Don’t go near their patrol routes or get involved with them. No crossing paths.”

“No patrolling on school nights – your education is your priority..”

“No associating with Catwoman – you can’t be seen with me in costume. It raises too many eyebrows and could lead Batman or others to figure out who you are.”

“So... I get to go solo?” you grinned.

Selina rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I’ll be tracking your every move. Stick to small, street-level threats like muggings, burglaries, and assaults. No big jobs or anything that could draw too much attention.”

“After patrols, come to the warehouse first – don’t go straight to the apartment.It’s safer to lay low here.”

“And no mixing with civilians—keep your crime-fighting life separate from your personal life.”

You nodded, committing the rules to memory. “Got it. No killing, no gangs, no Bats, no school-night patrols, no Catwoman, warehouse first, and no civilians.”

“Good. Stick to those rules, and we might just keep you out of trouble. Any small slip-up or any inkling of suspicion from the Bats, and you're out. Got that?”

Her eyes bore into yours, glaring into your soul. You gulped and nodded again, more firmly this time. "Got it. No room for mistakes."

Selina gave a satisfied nod and tossed you a mask. You caught it and inspected it closely. The mask was sleek and full-faced, featuring large, white mesh eye covers bordered in black. Subtle, almost invisible web patterns were etched into the surface.

"You know, for someone who doesn't follow the rules, you sure do have a lot for me," you snorted, running your fingers over the webbing, appreciating the craftsmanship before slipping it onto your face.

“That’s because I’m Catwoman and you’re not. I know when to break the rules and play. You’re still learning.”

“Do I at least get a cool name?” you asked, adjusting the mask to fit snugly.

“The press usually decides that, honey. How do you like the sound of Spider-Girl?”

“Spider-Woman,” you corrected with a huff.

“Spidey might be cuter,” she teased.

“Spidey,” you hummed, rolling the name around in your head. “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Spidey it is, then.”

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dududun there's a stark

surely putting this child into vigilante work is a good idea

i am very sure spidey will be responsible and not at all destructive like every other peter parker ever

also! you fight like spider noir because both of you use bare-knuckle boxing

#the suffering begins!#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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echoofadream · 4 months

Note

WRITE A PART 4 I BEG YOU.

Your favorite patient...

Part 4

Summary: your slave has been a very good boy lately and you decide it's time for a reward

Contains: sub!male! yandere, AFAB!dom!reader(no gender specified), smut, master/slave dynamic, fingering(m!receiving), pegging, praise, degradation, breeding kink

Short note: thank you guys so much for all your support! I really appreciate it!❤️

"What have you done today, baby?" you ask, a smile on your face as you look at the kneeling man in front of you.

"I did the chores, the laundry, I restocked the fridge and I made dinner!" the man answers, eyes full of love and adoration slightly pleading for praise.

You start caressing his cheek and he leans into your touch letting out a contented sound. "And about your body, love? What have you done to keep it beautiful for me?"

He blushes at your question and slightly averts his gaze. "I shaved... everything. And applied soothing lotion...and also used a scrub before you arrived to make sure my skin is perfect for you. I did that after the shower, of course...then a face mask. And...I think that's all"

"Have you touched yourself?" he almost jumps at your sudden question, his eyes filling with apprehension. You chuckle and pinch his cheek hard until he lets out a whine.

"Haven't...only you can..." he whispers.

"Louder, baby and I want you to tell me why only I can"

He lets out an almost inaudible whimper. "You own me...I'm yours...my pleasure belongs to you..."

"That's a good boy" you praise and rub the red spot on his cheek with your thumb. "I think you deserve a reward, sweet thing"

His eyes light up at your words and he starts nodding frantically. "Yes yes yes yes please...yes please...I've been good..."

"Patience, baby" you say and pat his head. He leans into your touch, his body moving towards your hand as soon as you pull it away, eager to feel more of it. You pat the spot on the bed next to you and he basically jumps on the mattress like an obedient puppy. You get up and spread his legs, feeling the man squirm under your touch.

"Mhmm~ what are you gonna do?" he whimpers, big pleading eyes staring right at you. He was laying on his back, arms above his head and legs spread, looking like a piece of art you were impatient to devour yourself.

Your hands slip under his shirt and grope his chest, earning you a moan from your slave. He arches his back, trying to get more of your arousing touches. Before he even realized it, his shirt was on the floor and so were his pants. He lets out a trembling sigh as your hand starts caressing his bulge, your thumb slightly rubbing over his clothed tip.

"Ahh~ ...mhm doctor~ pleaseeee..."

"What is it you need, baby? Hm?" you ask with a heart warming smile on your face that made him weaker than he already was for you.

He blushes and looks away from you, squeezing his eyes shut. Your fingers start playing with the hem of his boxers, threatening to take them off and expose his hard cock. "I thought you were a good boy who deserves a reward, darling. Was I wrong? Are you naughty?" you ask him teasingly.

"No no no" he starts, shaking his head. "I'm a good boy....'m your good boy. I need uhm...I..." He looks at you, eyes filled with tears. Poor boy was so embarrassed about telling you this. Wasn't he so adorable?

"Need...cock...please" he whispers, letting out a whimper as soon as he finishes his words. You chuckle and stroke his thigh lovingly. "Mhm...don't laugh doctor!" he whines, a pout forming on his face which only makes you the more amused.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you what you want. How does that sound, sweet boy?" you ask. His face lights up and his hips thrust upwards slightly. You take his boxers off, causing him to let out a moan when his hard dick slaps against his lower stomach, precum sticking to his skin.

You get up from the bed and he whimpers when he sees you open the toy drawer. You grab the harness and his favorite dildo (a pink one with a huge tip, long but not too thick) and you start fastening the belts around your hips.

Soon enough he's already shivering from the touch of the cold lube against his sensitive hole, your fingers skillfully prepping him for the strap. "Mhm~ please..." he begs, giving you those adorable puppy eyes that, combined to the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremble of his lower lip, made you wanna fuck him then and there and forget about this procedure. But you couldn't. You couldn't fathom hurting him.

"Patience baby...we need to stretch you out good for my cock, okay sweetheart?" He nods at your reassuring words, taking deep breaths trying to calm himself down. His dick twitches, his arousal sliding down his length and reaching your fingers, adding to the lubrication.

Once he gets used to your fingers you curl them oh so deliciously inside him and press on his prostate, making him let out a loud whimper. "Ahh~ not so...ngh hard...pleaseee~"

"Oh, did I press too hard, sweet boy? Forgive me" you apologize to the man under you who looked more like a mindless pile of mush than an actual human being. God he was so pretty...You just wanted to hold him in your arms and care for him for all eternity, make him yours, make him yours, make him-

"Ngh-ahh ahh~ f-ahh doctor...!" he moans when he feels the pink fat tip of the dildo penetrate his hole.

"You're so pretty like this, baby" you tell him as you thrust inside him, the toy hitting his soft spot, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. His legs wrap around your waist and pull you towards him in a desperate attempt to feel more of you.

"More ngh~ more! Fuck me~ ahh ahh AHH~...!" And you can't argue with that. He was too fucking perfect. So desperate for you, so slutty for you, so pretty, yours, only yours. You keep fucking him just like he asked, pressing on his lower stomach to feel how deep inside him your toy went and oh god why wasn't it real? Why was life so unfair that you couldn't feel your sweet boy's walls wrap around your cock?

You hated that thought and out of anger and frustration you kept going harder. The bed was creaking, you could feel it underneath you, but his moans and whimpers were the only sound which could be heard in your apartment. You were sure the neighbors will complain again. Fuck the neighbors. All the hatred you had for them, all the hatred you had for every single thing that had made you pissed, you were taking it out on this poor boy's prostate and he was loving every second of it.

"Ahh~ ahh... ngh- plea- more nee-... cock"

"Yeah?" you try to ask him breathlessly. "You like it when my cock fills you up so good? Fucking slut! My slut! Mine mine mine"

"Ahh ngh-ahh wan- ...cum inside...me~ pleaseee"

"You want me to fill you up?" He nods frantically as you ask him this, trying to cover the sounds he was making with your words. "You want me to breed you? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?"

"Yesyesyesyesyes!! Pleaseeee~.....!!"

You didn't even care that it was impossible to get him pregnant. None of you cared about that. You were too lost in the moment.

Before your hand even gets its chance to grab his cock and stroke it, he arches his back and cums all over his stomach and chest. You slower your pace, helping him get down from his high.

"You did great, baby..." you tell him as you slowly slide your strap out of him. He whines a little when he feels you removing it from inside him.

"Mhm doctor...thank you~...I...I love you..."

You look at him with the most loving smile he's ever seen, the most love filled eyes. You caress his cheek gently as you speak.

"I love you too..."

Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it! You can send me requests for what you want me to write about in the future (this series or anything else)❤️

#yandere fanfiction #sub yandere #sub!yandere #sub!character #dom!reader #dom reader #smut #anime #anime fanfic #anime fic #anime fanfiction #anime smut

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wriothesleybear · 6 months

Text

A True Angel Amongst Us

~warnings: Some angst but ends with fluff, insecure Sunday, slight story spoilers, fem!reader, 1.9k words.

~a/n: I've been wanting to write for Sunday for a while now and the first thing I write has angst ;-; I've been having trouble coming up with ideas for him, but after the 2.1 patch, I've wanted to write fluff for him and about his insecure side because I feel like he sort of has one deep down. Angel just needs some love.

Sunday has been tenser than usual lately. The stress from the loss of his dear sister, the struggle of finding her murderer, and the stress from the possibility of a traitor being amongst The Family and the pressure from his master being the main cause of his tension. He puts on a mask and pretends that everything is fine to ensure that The Family's image isn't tarnished, but behind closed doors is different. When he's alone, he just stares off into space, lost deep in the sea of his endless thoughts. Even with you, his dear wife, he puts on a mask sometimes. He doesn't want to worry you and show you the strong leader that he is, who is capable of overcoming any obstacles and who will deliver righteousness when the day comes.

But no matter how much he tries to hide his weaknesses, you can see beyond his mask. You notice in the way his shoulders are always tense, his hands in fists, the frown that lingers on his face when he thinks you aren't looking, and the way he's less talkative during your limited time together. You hate seeing your husband this way, knowing he's bottling everything up inside. It's only a matter of time until it all bubbles up and he eventually snaps.

You decide to visit him in his dreamscape mansion office. You hadn't seen him all day due to him being busy with work. You weren't even able to see him off this morning as his side of the bed was already empty and made up. Knocking on his door, he tells you to come in. "What brings you here my dear?" He says with his masked emotions. Your eyes survey his office, noticing how it's a bit messier than usual even for Sunday's standards. He usually has everything in perfect shape given his ocd. Nothing was ever out of place for him unless something was wrong, further proving your suspicions. He notices how your eyes survey his office, the look of concern on your face is apparent. "I wanted to check in on you, my love. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay." You offer him a gentle, kind smile. "Of course I'm doing well. Why wouldn't I be? As head of The Family, it is my duty to be competent to fulfill my role." He gives you a smile, but it's not a real one. It's one of those fake smiles he puts on for show when out in the public eye.

"Sunday. I know something's bothering you. Please, just talk to me." His smile falters, his fake smile fading as he contemplates your words. You had been worried about him ever since the death of his sister. As the caring wife you are, you've been by his side, making sure that he was doing alright. Bless your soul, but with all the questions and pity stares, he couldn't help but get disgruntled. He knows you meant well, but his insecurity couldn't help but get the better of him. He thought you saw him as weak. I mean, he couldn't protect his dear sister for god's sake. It's his duty to protect those he cares about and he failed. He surveys your face while lost in his thoughts. His train of thought is broken by your calls of his name. He plasters on his fake smile.

"Dear, there's no need to worry about me. Or do you truly believe I'm just that weak?" You're taken aback from his accusation. You gather your courage and try to shut down his allegation. "Of course I don't. You're the strongest person I know, Sunday. It's just.. I can tell you're undergoing a lot of stress lately given the loss of your sister and work. I want to help you." By now his fake smile has fallen completely, replaced with a emotionless look. Turning away from you, his back faces you, making you unable to see the pain on his facial features. "I'm fine. You should leave, dear.." You could hear the coldness in his tone. The emptiness in his words sending slight shivers down your spine. You try to protest and get him to open up to you, but he cuts you off. "Don't let me tell you twice." He says in a strict voice, void of emotion. You hesitate but respect his wishes. You turn to leave without another word said. He doesn't even notice the breath he was holding until the door shut behind you.

Later that night, you lay wide awake in bed. Thoughts of your earlier event with Sunday replay in your head. After you left Sunday's office, you thought everything would be okay by dinnertime, but he never showed. You tried not to take it to heart too much, taking in consideration what he's going through right now, but when it got to midnight and he still hadn't arrived home, you began to feel worse. You've known Sunday for years. You knew how he was raised to become the perfect leader to represent The Family. He was a strong leader who believed in righteousness, in helping those in need, and caring for the people of Penacony. You know he's the kindest and most compassionate person with many strengths, but you also knew that he had many insecurities. He was scared that others would see him as weak and he was worried that everything he worked so hard for would be taken from him. Getting tired of wallowing in your thoughts, you finally decide to find him and try to get him to talk to you one way or another.

Arriving to his office once again, you knock on the door and patiently wait for an answer. "Sunday? It's me. Can I come in?" No answer. Maybe he was shunning you, but you weren't one to back down and walk away. You weren't going to give up on your husband. "Sunday. I'm coming in." Grabbing the door knob, you push the door open and are welcomed to a dark office. The only faint light coming from the windows in his office. Even with the limited lighting, you were able to see that Sunday's office was a bigger mess than earlier. Papers and books were thrown about the floor, the miniature display of Penacony in ruins. Worried, you continue to scan the room until your eyes land on the man slumped over his desk. Walking over to him, you observe his appearance. His clothes are in disarray, coat thrown recklessly on the chair, his wings and hair disheveled. "Sunday.." You hesitate for a second before resting a hand on his head. He tenses from your touch, causing you to withdrawal your hand. "Darling? What happened?" You ask in the most gentlest voice you could muster while trying not to push him too hard to talk. He doesn't reply to you. He keeps his head down on his desk, not willing to move an inch.

You quietly sigh. "Sunday. I understand if you don't like me pestering you with worries and questions. I'm your wife and I care about you. I'm only trying to be there to support you. I am here to support you. For anything. I'm here." Silence. You didn't expect him to reply but you wanted him to hear you out. "I'll give you your space, but just know, I'm here for you with open arms when and if you need to talk." You turn to walk away but suddenly, you're stopped in your tracks by a hand grabbing your wrist. Turning your head back, you see that Sunday is finally looking at you. You can see the pain in his eyes and by how his hand slightly shakes. Without saying anything, you turn your body to fully face him and open your arms wide, silently welcoming him into your arms.

He doesn't waste another second and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his head into your chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you feel his body slightly shaking as you hold him close. "It's okay Sunday. You don't need to hide from me. I won't judge you. Please, don't push me away. I'm here for you." You gently whisper as you stroke his hair. He doesn't speak, all that's heard is his deep, shaky breaths as he tries to control his emotions. It's taking all his willpower to not breakdown crying right there.

"Can you look at me darling?" He's hesitant, but eventually pulls his head away from your body without releasing his hold around your waist. He looks up at you. You notice the painful expression that graces his beautiful features. His golden eyes water as he tries to prevent the tears from falling. He hates showing weakness let alone looking weak in front of you. You cup his cheeks as you search his eyes, giving him a gentle smile. "It's okay to show weakness sometimes, my love. You're the strongest person I know and nothing will change the way I feel about you. I will always see you as the strongest, most caring leader and husband."

Without realizing, tears have begun to fall from Sunday's eyes as he listens to your reassuring words. Your thumbs move to wipe his tears. "I'm...I'm sorry...for pushing you away." He quietly says, his voice slightly cracking. "There's no reason to apologize, Sunday. I know you didn't mean to. I don't blame you." He feels guilty and embarrassed as he tries to move away so you don't see him cry, but you stop him. "It's okay to cry my love. Let it out if it'll help you feel better." He can feel the love through your words and the look you give him, causing more tears to fall. All you do is give him a comforting smile and continue to rub his wet cheeks as he lets his emotions out. You lean down and press a kiss to his left cheek. He gasps, surprised by your sudden action. You switch to his other cheek and continue to kiss his tears away. You leave one final kiss on his forehead and pull his face into your chest. "We can stay like this for as long as you want my angel." He buries his head further into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you comfort him.

You can feel his body relaxing as he continues to bask in your comforting hold. "Thank you, my love. You are the true angel amongst us." You giggle and continue to hold him close for as long as he needs, occasionally giving him words of comfort and gently stroking his hair and back. You'll wait as long as it takes until he's ready to talk to you, but he understands now that he has you to catch him when he falls and he'll never push you away again.

#hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday headcanons #sunday fluff #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons

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ellebakers · 1 year

Text

☆ Desire | Part one (+18)

Ethan landry x reader.

part II. | part III

Summary : just ethan fucking you against a wall.

Warnings : smut + language + blood. ! SPOILERS FOR SCREAM VI !

it's been a year. a year since richie and amber destroyed your life. a year of waking up every night screaming after having a nightmare. it had to stop.

when your friends asked you to come and live with them in new york a few months ago, you refused. but the more the months passed and the more you felt alone.

that's why a few weeks ago, you called each of them to ask them to put you up until you found a small apartment not far from the university.

"i would like y/n. really, but with tara and quinn, all the rooms are taken." sam told you.

"it doesn't bother me but... you might hear us a lot anika and me, well you know, you might hear us doing certain things." mindy said

there was only one person left. chad.

"no problem gorgeous , I'll arrange the third bedroom for you and you can move in with us whenever you want. ethan is nice, a little shy but nice." your best friend told you.

you were so excited. can't wait to see your friends, but above all can't wait to start a new life far away from woodsboro and especially far away from ghostface.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

it was eight o'clock in the morning, your taxi had just dropped you off in front of chad and ethan's building and you couldn't help but smile. this city is so big that no one is likely to find you. especially not the man in the white mask who haunted your nights.

after taking the elevator to the fourth floor, you took the corridor on your right as your friend had told you and stopped in front of apartment 45.

you raised your arm to knock but before you could move the door slammed open.

" y/n !"

" chad !"

you jumped at the brunette and hugged him, so happy to see your best friend. the boy did not take long to reciprocate the gesture.

"you still smell so good." he exclaimed.

you laughed "you’re still so weird."

he pulled back and lightly pinched your nose "i missed you, little head."

you smiled at him "I missed you too, big head."

he pushed aside to let you into the apartment.

once inside, he took your coat and your bag "is that all you took?" he asked you.

"yeah, i just took some change and some stuff. my parents will send me the rest."

he nodded and put your things on a small bench in the hallway.

"come, let me introduce you to ethan."

you followed him to the kitchen where a boy with curly hair was sitting at the counter. "ethan" hearing his name, the boy looked up. you can't help but notice how cute he was. "this is my best friend y/n." the boy's gaze fell on you for a moment then he quickly looked away. "y/n, this is ethan."

you waved your hand "hi"

"hi" he muttered, then he got up, got his things and walked towards what you assumed was his room.

chad turned to you pursing his lips "he's shy."

you nodded slightly, still confused by what had just happened. as a first meeting you had known better. did you scare him ? maybe he didn't like you. but you had only just met him, it was stupid.

your best friend cleared his throat, bringing you back to reality. " i forgot to tell you, but we're going to sam’s place in twenty minutes."

you widened your eyes "wait what? but i've only just arrived. and i won't be ready in twenty minutes."

he shook his head, raising his shoulders "but yes ! I installed your room, you just have to change, plus the girls don't know you're in town."

you crossed your arms "oh, so for once in your life you managed to keep your mouth shut."

a mischievous smile appeared on chad's face "oh, girls i had dated prefer when my mouth is open, especially between their-"

you cover your ears "shut up, I'm going to change."

he laughed and tickled you as you walked past him. "chad stop"

"ok"

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

after putting on jeans, a tank top and a leather jacket, you tore your hair down and put on some make-up, in ten minutes you were ready.

it was not the case of chad…

you growled when you saw that your friend wasn't ready and was running around looking for a t-shirt.

"seriously chad, put something else on your back it's okay."

"nah nah and nah, it's the t-shirt tara gave me. and besides, don't pretend that you don't like seeing me shirtless."

you rolled your eyes, then what he just said hit you.

"wait. you have a crush on tara!"

chad froze and turned to you "what? nah, it's just that...she gave it to me and...it would be rude not to put it on."'

"of course, I believe you." you smirked and chad gives you the middle finger.

ethan came towards you but moved very far away from you.

okay nice… you thought.

chad yelled which startled you. seeing your reaction he apologized "sorry kitten, I just found my top. come on, let's go, I have to stop and buy some beer, Tara only likes corona."

you smiled shaking your head.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

while chad was in the store, you were in the car with ethan, who still hadn't spoken to you.

a ding caught your attention. a new notification appeared on your phone. it was that damn dating app that mindy told you to install. a certain brian came to send you a picture. you opened it. and the photo of a dick appeared. you growled and blocked him. that was the downside with this kind of app, the guys you met on it only wanted one thing. sex. after turning off your phone, you leaned your head against the glass and sighed.

"you shouldn't be on this kind of app." for the first time that evening, ethan had just spoken to you.

you didn't know what to say, but it could be a good way to strike up a conversation with him. after all, you were going to live with him for a while so you might as well be on good terms.

"yes, I know. i thought i would meet good people, but i only come across perverts."

"you're really pretty. that's what they come for. maybe you should try talking to guys who are less handsome or popular, but who really care about you."

he finds you pretty. the cutest guy you've ever seen thinks you're pretty. you must have dreamed. and his voice. lord, you could kneel before him and do anything he asked just by hearing his voice.

"yeah well. every guy, popular or not, are interested in me until they see my scars and learn who i am. thanks to richie and amber."

you expected ethan to answer you but he kills himself. at the same time, chad got into the car and drove to sam's place.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

"chad! you're late. again." grumbled mindy.

the three girls were busy in the kitchen so they didn't see you come in behind chad.

"i have a body of god, it takes time to take care of it before going out."

"of course." his twin replied.

" i feel like a wave of mockery coming from you mindy. isn't it y/n?"

you approached and saw the three girls turn sharply, shock evident on their faces.

"holy shit." exclaimed sam

tara threw herself into your arms and mindy put down the bottle she was holding so as not to drop it, still in shock. they haven't seen you in months except for facetime.

"it's good to see you." murmured the little brunette who hugged you against her without wanting to let you go.

"it's good to see you too tara."

"okay okay, let go. it's my turn now." mindy exclaimed as she pulled tara away from you.

she cupped your face in her hands "fuck. is it good to be able to touch you." chad opened his mouth to comment but mindy cut him off rolling her eyes "not sexually dumbass."

you laughed and hugged your friend.

after a while she withdrew to make way for sam.

"i missed you." the eldest carpenter told you.

"i missed you too sam."

after a while, two other girls arrived introducing themselves as anika and quinn, after greeting them, you started to eat. it's been a year since you felt so good, surrounded by those you love and safe. your friends had all changed a lot over the past year, you were so proud of them. but something bothered you, like a bad feeling. you shook your head slightly to erase the feeling. after all, you were safe, nothing could happen.

you felt eyes on you. you turned and met ethan's eyes. you smiled at him but he turned his head towards quinn, they exchanged a strange look.

maybe they are a couple.

but they don't act like one. you looked away and focused on what mindy and anika were saying. after a few hours, your eyes began to close. chad was the first to notice.

"do you want us to go home?"

"i'll go home. but you, stay here. i'll walk."

"nah, we're going home too."

you knew he wanted to stay to spend time with tara. but you also knew that he wouldn't let you go home alone. "chad. stay here, i'll be fine, i promise."

as he was going to answer you, ethan cut him off. "i will accompany her."

chad was surprised but accepted. you got up, said goodbye to everyone and left with the brunette.

———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———

the walk to the apartment was quiet and long. why did ethan want to come with you if it was to be cold with you. after a while, you found the courage to ask him the question you were dying to ask.

"did I do something to you ?"

you keep walking, and ethan didn't bother to turn to you when answering. "no, why ?"

"since I arrived you have spoken to me very little. and I have the impression that you don't like me too much."

"i don't know you, that's all. i'm always suspicious of people i don't know."

you didn't realize it, but for a few minutes, you had been following ethan down a dark, deserted alley.

"ok if you say so."

ethan froze, which made you stop. he turned his head in all directions.

"ethan what’s going on ?" you asked him.

he didn't answer you, you were going to ask him the question again, but he threw himself on you and pinned you against the wall behind you, kissing you.

it didn't take you long to respond by sliding your arms around his neck and kissing him. usually, you'll have pushed the boy away and probably slapped him. but ethan, you were really attracted to him. and we're not going to lie to each other, it's been a few months since you've had sex, so you weren't going to say no to a bang. after a while you pull away to catch your breath, he turned his lips to your neck, biting, licking and sucking on it in order to leave some marks. you moan when he finds your sensitive spot.

"ethan, someone might see us."

"i don't give a fuck."

you were ashamed to admit it, but hearing him talk like that made you wet.

"then fuck me."

he smiled against your neck "it was planned."

he pushed himself away from you, sliding his hands down your body until he was waiting for your jeans. he unbuttoned it and slid it off you, leaving your legs exposed in an alley. he knelt in front of you, knowing what he was going to do, you held your breath. he took the strip of your panties between his fingers and tore it. you were about to complain but ethan buried his head between your legs and took your pussy in his mouth. you moaned loudly and ran your hand through his hair.

"fuck, ethan."

you had a lot of guys who had went down on you. but ethan, fuck, it's like he's been doing this his whole life. between his tongue and his lips, you thought you were dying of pleasure. the more he penetrated you with his tongue, the louder you moaned. after a few minutes, the pleasure was too intense and you cum against his lips. he stood up as you caught your breath. he licked his lips "you taste so good."

"fuck me."

he smiled at you and lowered his pants to his knees, his boxers were the second to be lowered.

his dick was big and hard you didn't think it was going to fit but ethan grabbed your jaw between his fingers and made you look at him "it'll be fine." you nodded and he kissed you again. ethan took your left leg and put it against his hip. he spat into his hand and pumped himself a little before putting his cock towards your entrance. and in one movement he penetrated you, which made you moan and close your eyes. he didn't move, he took your other leg and lifted it, which allowed him to sink even more inside you. "fuck you’re so tight." he started his movements, slowly, pressing you more against the wall. you were still sensitive, which made you cry with pleasure at each thrust. "ethan, i'm close." he put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly. his dominating side excited you even more and made you moan pornographic. the more he squeezed and the more you moaned, after a while you felt your second orgasm coming. "ethan, I'll-" you didn't have time to finish your sentence. an orgasm washed over you, making you moan and roll your eyes. ethan kept moving, and you knew he was going to cum, you nibbled on his earlobe "go ahead, cum inside me." that's all he needed to end up in you. he leaned his forehead against yours and caught his breath.

with one hand he pulled up his boxers and his pants. he lowered you to the ground, but his other hand still remained around your neck. "ethan you can take your hand off."

suddenly he looked up and smiled at you, and his hand squeezed more and more around your neck, making you gasp for air. "ethan" you were trying to beg him to stop but he kept going. he passed his other hand behind his back, you hadn't seen what he had taken, but you felt it. it was a knife.

a knife he stuck in your stomach, you tried to scream, but ethan stopped you. he raised the knife higher and higher. you felt yourself dying little by little. he dropped you to the ground and watched you bleed out. after your last breath. he took his phone and called chad.

"chad, oh my god that's horrible. we got attacked by ghostface. y/n, she's dead."

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion x reader #jack champion #jack champion x y/n #scream vi

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il-miele-che-scrive · 9 months

Text

lando norris x reader

based on this request (because I take requests and I have to make it everyone's business): Hi not sure if you take requests but in case you do could you write reader x lando where y/n is a celebrity or an influencer and she drops subtle hints at who is her new bf maybe some fun facts about him like "oh he hates fish and I'm making a lot of fish for christmas" and eventually the fans are like "guys it's totally lando"

words count: 2.5k + fans' tweets at the end

author's note: my first request and it was so fun to write 🥹 also added a hospital scene from the time of Vegas GP so we could experience a bit of protective Y/n and painkillers-high Lando (I forgot about a fish scene)

edit: I've just realized I've messed up the dates so let's pretend the award thingie was in '23 instead of '22

A secret boyfriend

It was a normal Tuesday of 2023 when Y/n Y/l/n and Lando Norris met. Well, not so normal since it was the day Y/n won the first award in her musical career, and Lando had his first debut as an award presenter.

"And the winner is..." He opened the envelope and flipped it, as he held it upside down. "Y/n Y/l/n."

Y/n couldn't believe it at first. She looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes. They hugged before Y/n stood up and got on her way to the scene, still questioning if she actually heard her name or was it her mind playing tricks on her.

"Thank you," Y/n sent Lando a smile as he handed her the award, "are you sure it's for me?" She joked, trying to mask the anxiety she felt from the fact that now she had to give a speech while everyone watched.

"Absolutely, it's all yours. Well deserved." Lando said feeling a bit starstruck from being so close to one of his favorite singers.

Just this one simple interaction was enough for both Y/n's and Lando's fanbases to raise suspicions. However, what was unavailable to the fans' eyes were Y/n and Lando's interaction at the after party. Later the same evening, he approached her.

"Hey, congratulations again." He said with a grin on his face. "Your music is amazing, I couldn't imagine you not winning this award."

"Stop with the compliments, I'm gonna blush." Y/n laughed. "Nice to meet you. Lando Norris, isn't it?"

"Yeah, do you watch Formula One?"

"I'm going to be honest from the beginning and admit I did not, but I did my research and I just might start being a fan."

"If you're ever down for hearing firsthand gossip straight from the track, I'm at your service."

"I'd love to hear all the gossip over a coffe sometime."

"Let me give you my number then and I'll arrange something."

And so a few days later they had a coffee date. The date marked the beginning of a carefully hidden romance. They wanted to keep it a secret from the public eye, not wanting people prying on them, trying to estimate how long they'll last.

Keeping the relationship secret somehow came easy to them. They were seen on the coffee date indeed, however they made sure to have the next dates in private. The fans on both sides were literally clueless to the whole ongoing romance. Y/n had her tour, Lando had his races and it wasn't even a little bit suspicious how a lot concerts aligned with race weekends.

Unfortunately, one day Y/n went live on Instagram with her best friend. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n gave away the big secret.

"You know, guys, we're gonna use lives as a way to spend time together," she joked, "I've been feeling a bit abandoned since Y/n has been spending so much time with her boyfriend. Even on tour and with his busy schedule, can you believe this?"

Y/n's eyes widened. "Y/f/n!" She scolded her friend.

"What? It's a joke, no worries, I can see you're finally happy and I'm happy for you!"

"Y/f/n! You weren't supposed to say that!"

But the damage was already done. There was nothing Y/n could say to save the situation. So instead she decided to start dropping subtle hints for the fans to guess. Maybe it was the right time to make the relationship public after five months. They couldn't hide it forever.

Y/n started the hint game when she was on Jimmy Fallon's show.

"Y/n Y/l/n, everybody!" Jimmy announced when the girl walked in and sat down on the armchair. "I haven't seen you in a year and so much happened during this time!"

"I know, I know," Y/n said with a smile. "I'm so glad I could make a quick pit stop here on my way to Montreal."

"I'm happy to have you here. You won an award, you got a boyfriend. How- how did that happen?"

Y/n chuckled at Jimmy's question, realizing it was the perfect opportunity to play the hint game. "Oh, life takes unexpected turns and sometimes you find yourself on a fast track to happiness."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Anything you'd like to share about this mystery man?"

"You know, Jimmy, I've finally found someone who knows how to navigate the twists and turns in life."

The audience laughed and the speculations among fans skyrocketed as they tried to connect the dots from Y/n's playful hints.

The other time, Y/n was on a popular radio show. The host couldn't help but ask about the latest reveal of a big secret.

"You were left hurting really badly after your previous relationship," he spoke, "it's really good to see you finally happy."

"It was a big thing for me. Still is." The girl admitted. "My previous relationship made it hard to open up to a man like that again."

"What made you do it eventually then?"

"I decided life is too short for keeping things in the slow lane," Y/n chuckled, "and when you meet someone that can belt out a Taylor Swift song with the same passion as you, it's hard not to fall for them."

"So your mystery man is a Swiftie too? Any chance we might know him?"

"Oh, I bet many people who are listening right now would know him."

"Now you got us all intrigued, your fans wouldn't forgive me if I didn't ask for more."

Y/n grinned, "Well, he's practically flawless, except for one little detail. He's a scorpio. And let me tell you, when we're playing our silly little racing video games, his competitive scorpio side really comes out. It's all fun and games until his racing pride is at stake."

The host laughed. "I'm sure fans are already trying to guess who this mystery gamer is. And you, are you competitive?"

"Yes, totally. He's more experienced than I am, but it doesn't mean I won't try my hardest to beat him."

"Is there any trait you don't share?"

The girl nodded, "Yes, one thing I'm secretly jealous of. He's quite known for being able to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable conditions. I wish I could do that. I'm all about pillows and comfy blankets, but he can just doze off anywhere, anytime."

A few days later, in the warmth of Lando's bedroom, surrounded by the hum of city life outside the windows, Y/n brought up the topic with a playful glint in her eyes.

"You know, Lando, fans have been buzzing lately. It's quite entertaining."

"Well, you have started this yourself," Lando laughed, laying his head in his girlfriend's lap.

"Not me, it was Y/f/n. I just went with it and turned it into something fun for myself." Y/n defended herself. Her fingers started gently playing with Lando's hair.

"You do seem to be having a great time, leading your fans on and all that," he joked. "Are there chances they'll solve your mystery anytime soon?"

"I've seen a few tweets accusing you of being my secret boyfriend, but most people don't really believe that."

"What?" He sit up dramatically. He continued in a fake-offended voice. "Do they think I'm not good enough?"

Y/n giggled.

Lando's mock offense turned into a playful pout. "I can't believe they're doubting my boyfriend potential. I mean, come on, look at me!" He gestured theatrically at himself.

Y/n burst into laughter, "Maybe we should give them a little more to work with, stir the pot a bit."

Lando leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek. "You're a master of turning chaos into entertainment, you know that?"

"It's quite a compliment, coming from a Formula One driver."

Lando flashed a grin. "Well, we both have our talents, don't we? Maybe we should drop some subtle hints during a race?"

And so they waited months for the Grand Prix in Vegas, because that was where they could start rumours about getting married. Sure, they could get married spontaneously anywhere, but there was no better place than Las Vegas.

Thankfully they managed to keep the relationship secret all these months, breadcrumbing Y/n's fans. After the Vegas GP, Y/n and Lando where supposed to go for an afterparty, get 'drunk' and then 'married'.

Unfortunately, they plans changed the direction a bit with Lando's crash. Y/n's heart sank as she watched the unfolding drama on the big screens. The thrill of the race was replaced with concern for Lando's well-being. Plans for the afterparty and the playful hints about a fake marriage suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Emergency crews rushed onto the track, the anxious seconds felt like an eternity as they worked to help Lando get out of his racing car. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the world around her blurring. The fact that he managed to walk away from the car was a small comfort.

Y/n's phone buzzed moment after Lando disappeared from her sight.

from: Lando

I'm okay, they're taking me to st vincent's hospital. Will update you soon. Love you xx

to: Lando

Be there in a second, see you soon

A shaky exhale escaped Y/n, she felt slightly relief and ran towards the exit. She was sure Lando wasn't okay, not after that crash, but at least he was conscious and walking on his own (although it could be the adrenaline). A moment later, when Y/n got into her own car, her phone buzzed again.

from: Lando

Yknow you could post a pic from the hospital, that would stir the pot

Y/n smiled at the massage. If he could think of that, he might had been better than she thought.

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as she drove through the city streets, trying to get to the hospital as quick as possible. Despite the speed, the journey seemed to stretch in time.

Arriving at St. Vincent's hospital, Y/n rushed through the entrance, her heart pounding. The reception area looked like a maze in her anxious state, but she managed to find a nurse.

"I'm here for Lando Norris," the girl said.

The nurse looked her up and down. "Are you his family?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"Then, unfortunately, I cannot let you see him."

"His family is in Europe, I'm the closest to family you can get here in Vegas."

"The closest, but not family. I'll ask you nicely to wait here for further information."

Y/n nodded with an angry expression on her face. She sat down in the waiting room, pulling out her phone and dialing the number of her manager.

"Hey, Mia," the singer said. "I need you to do something." Urgency and frustration were visible in her voice.

"What's going on, Y/n? Are you okay?" Mia's concerned voice came through the line.

"It's Lando. He's been in a crash during the race in Vegas, and they've taken him to St. Vincent's Hospital. I'm here, but they won't let me in because I'm not 'family.' That's so stupid."

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but I still don't see what you want me to do."

"I want you to make a donation for the hospital from my account. Send them like $100,000. I think it'll be enough to let me in."

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Mia. I appreciate it more than you know."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Anxiety lingered in the air. But there was no way they wouldn't let her in after that.

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed. She felt as if all she did was staring at a wall in front of her, ocassionally moving her eyes to the floor or the ceiling. She was fidgeting with her fingers as the same nurse approached her.

"Miss Y/l/n, you're allowed to see Mr Norris in the room 305."

Without a word, Y/n rushed to the room. She found Lando lying in the hospital bed, his gaze turning towards the door as she walked in.

"Lando." Y/n breathed his name, rushing to his side and taking his hand in hers. "I was so worried. And they didn't want to let me in at first."

He managed a dazed smile, his eyes slightly glazed. "Hey, you're real, right? This isn't happening in my head?"

Y/n chuckled. "Yes, I'm real. It's me."

He squinted at her. "You sure? You look like a beautiful hallucination."

"Well, if I'm a hallucination, at least a beautiful one."

"I feel like I'm floating on marshmallow clouds, but you're the most beautiful marshmallow I've ever seen."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "I think you might be on some strong painkillers, love."

"Ah, that explains the marshmallows. They're having a party in my head," Lando said with a dreamy expression.

Y/n burst into laughter, the tension of the earlier moments disappearing in the room.

"Did you know," Lando continued, "that racing is like trying to catch a rainbow? And if you're lucky, you might find a pot of gold at the end."

"Is there an Irish leprechaun as well?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's who's been guiding me all this time."

"You gotta ask him to make the rainbow less slippery next time then."

He nodded solemnly. "I'll have a serious talk with him. No more slippery rainbows, only smooth, marshmallow clouds."

As they joked around, Y/n couldn't ignore the quiet concern for Lando's well-being. She gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You scared me, you know? Seeing you crash like that."

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'll be more careful next time. But you have to promise me something too.""

"What is it?"

"You'll visit me in the marshmallow cloud world sometimes. It gets lonely up there."

Y/n laughed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll visit anytime you want."

"You know, even in the middle of all this craziness, having you here feels like finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

As the night carried on, the hospital room became a cocoon shielding them from everything that layed outside its walls. Y/n found herself falling asleep on an armchai next to Lando's bed.

In the quiet ambiance of the night, Lando's mind wandered through the whimsical landscapes of his medication-induced thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at the coincidence that brought Y/n into his life.

It all started with handing her an award. It seemed like it happened a whole lifetime ago and now, there they were, in the middle of marshmallow clouds.

Y/n, nestled in the armchair, breathed softly in her sleep, completely unaware of Lando's reflections. Soon enough, Lando allowed himself to succumb to the gentle pull of sleep as well.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris one shot #f1 x y/n #lando norris x y/n

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nahoney22 · 3 months

Note

Hi there, I've never done a request before, so fun! 🤗 Could you do angst/fluff (enemies to lovers) with fem reader and Crosshair? "What are you staring at?" / "You, is that a problem?" I'd love for the fem reader to give Cross a dose of his snark, so maybe she's the one saying "You, is that a problem?" Some snark to fluff would be wonderful. Thank you for all you do! ❤️

Under the Moon 🌊

🫧 pairings: Crosshair x Female!Reader

word count: 2k

prompts:

• “What are you staring at?” / “You, is that a problem?”

Crosshair didn’t like new people so naturally, he didn’t like you. Or did he? He can bark but you show him that you can certainly bite back.

warnings: Safe for Work, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bickering, Sassy Moments, Light Angst, Scar/Burn Insecurities, Female Reader.

authors note: sorry for the wait, hope this is okay @megmegalodondon 🫧

The Marauder buzzed with activity, each member of the squad engrossed in their routines. The hum of machinery and quiet murmur of voices filled the air. You were content assisting Tech when a burning sensation prickled on the side of your face, like the intensity of a laser sight. You didn’t need to turn to know who was staring.

Since joining the team, Crosshair’s disdain had been clear. From the moment of his return, he made it obvious he didn’t like you. The others mentioned he wasn’t fond of people in general, and new members who acted like they knew everything were especially irritating to him. Unfortunately, that was you to a tee. Your confidence and cleverness only seemed to amplify his irritation.

As you worked at the main console running diagnostics, you felt Crosshair’s gaze drilling into you. Stealing a glance, you shot him a look of annoyance, but his face remained an impassive mask, eyes like cold steel.

You muttered under your breath, turning back to your task, but his presence was an undeniable distraction. Despite his abrasive attitude, you couldn't ignore his striking looks—though you'd never admit it aloud. His chiseled jaw, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands worked methodically over his rifle — it was all infuriatingly attractive. Sadly his snarky attitude was less than desirable.

“Can you keep the static to a minimum?” Crosshair’s sharp voice cut through the silence, jolting you from your thoughts. His brows were furrowed in irritation, lips a thin line.

You rolled your eyes, fingers pausing on the controls. “It’s called doing my job, Crosshair. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

He set his rifle down with a clatter and stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow over you and his eyes bore into you. “My job is to keep us safe, and I can’t do that if I can’t concentrate.”

“Oh, please. Like your concentration is ever that perfect,” you retorted, standing to meet his gaze. “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse to complain.”

His brown eyes darkened, a dangerous glint in them. “I don’t need excuses to point out incompetence.” He stepped closer, the tension between you thick.

“Incompetence? You—” Your retort was cut short by Omega’s innocent voice from her corner, breaking the charged atmosphere.

“Why do you two always fight? It’s like you actually like each other or something.”

Wrecker, lounging on a crate nearby, let out a booming laugh. “Yeah, it’s like a schoolyard crush! You both just need to admit it!”

Your face flushed with embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks. “What? No! That’s ridiculous,” you spluttered, glaring at the two of them. “Crosshair would be the last guy in all the galaxy I’d ever get with.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Feeling’s mutual.”

Tech glanced up from his datapad, adding his two credits. “Statistically, opposites do attract. It’s not entirely out of the question.”

You and Crosshair turned on him in unison. “Shut up, Tech!”

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Charming. But that just proves my point.”

Your embarrassment deepened as the rest of the squad chuckled. “I’m done with this,” you muttered, turning on your heel and storming away from the others.

Omega’s voice trailed after you, “We were just teasing!”

The next day, you were tasked with scouting a base for Rex, determining the best points for a future infiltration. The dense jungle surrounded you, the air thick with humidity, leaves glistening with moisture and you’re still in a sour mood from yesterday which is only to worsen. As you navigated through the underbrush, Hunter’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“You and Crosshair will go ahead together. Maybe sort out your differences while you’re at it.” Clearly, yesterday’s bickering had reached his ears, and this was your punishment. Crosshair merely grunted, a typical response, and began moving ahead without waiting for you. Reluctantly, you followed.

The jungle was alive with the chirps and calls of unseen creatures, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and foliage. At the coordinates, Crosshair suggested a lookout point, but you were less than convinced. “You’re out of your mind if you think that’s a good vantage point,” you stated, shooting him a stern look.

He raised an eyebrow, his face a mask of annoyance. “And where would you suggest, General?” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word.

You pointed to a higher spot, frustration evident in your voice. “There, we’ll have a better view of the perimeter.”

Crosshair crossed his arms, a mocking smile on his face. “That’s weak. We’ll be seen.”

Your face flushed with annoyance because this wasn’t the first time he disagreed with you, it was almost every single time.

“Or maybe you can’t handle the climb and that’s why you’re opting for the lower point?” You challenge.

His smirk faded slightly, and he took a deliberate step closer, invading your space. With a fluid motion, he removed his helmet, locking his intense eyes on you. “You’re new here, Kitten. Maybe you should learn to trust my judgment.” His voice low and testing.

Your heart pounded, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Trust your judgment?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the petname he just gave you. “You’re so arrogant!” you retorted whilst also trying to ignore how his proximity affected you.

Crosshair leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against your face. “Arrogant? Or just right?” His gaze flicked down to your lips, lingering. “You should watch that pretty mouth of yours.” The air between you crackled with tension, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it seemed like he wanted to kiss you. Or maybe you wanted to kiss him.

But did he just call you pretty? Was he mocking you? Either way, you find yourself in a sudden daze as you’re hypnotised by his eyes. The realisation hits you hard, leaving you momentarily speechless and strangely drawn to him despite your better judgment.

His breath is warm, scented but breathing deadly silent. If you closed your eyes, you probably wouldn’t even assume he was mere inches from you but he was and it was consuming.

Before either of you could react, a blaster shot rang out, shattering the moment. “Cover’s blown,” Crosshair snapped, his voice yanking you both back to reality. He sprang into action, and you followed, the adrenaline overtaking your argument.

Maybe, it was best to leave the arguing for after the mission.

Later that night, the squad had returned to Pabu, the mission a success despite the rocky start you and Crosshair had caused by not paying attention.

The others were inside the Marauder, their laughter and chatter a comforting presence. The warm, humid air wrapped around you as you stepped outside, needing space to clear your head, especially to think about what had happened earlier with a certain Sniper.

The tropical night was alive with sounds—creatures chirping, leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, and the distant call of birds. You wandered down to the beach, the soft, damp sand cool beneath your bare feet. The waves lapped rhythmically at the shore, and the moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver path over the water.

As you walked along the shore, you noticed a lone figure lying on the beach. At first you panicked thinking someone was injured but upon closer inspection, silhouetted against the moonlit horizon, it was Crosshair.

He lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the vast expanse of the night sky. His usually stern features seemed softer in the moonlight, lost in thought.

For a moment, you considered turning back, but something compelled you to approach him. The sand crunched softly beneath you feet you drew closer, stopping a few feet away. You don’t say anything at first and then end up doing something unexpected—you lay down beside him, your eyes tracing the same stars he was watching. Did he do this often?

Supposedly all the time he spent in a cell made stargazing a rare luxury.

The usual tension between you seemed to vanish in the night air. Crosshair remained silent, his face expressionless as you both lay there, the silence stretching out, surprisingly comfortable.

After a few minutes, you turned your head slightly, your hair brushing against the sand as you watched him. His profile was illuminated by the moonlight dancing; casting sharp shadows and highlighting the lines of his face.

Just like you had noticed him staring at you the day before, he sighed. “What are you staring at?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel.

“You. Is that a problem?” you replied, tone challenging.

He shifted slightly, his eyes flicking towards you before returning to the sky. “Are you looking at my scar?”

“No,” you replied with a small frown, not realising that might be a sensitive topic for him. You had heard about how he got it, but it wasn't something you consciously noticed.

“Good. Look away,” he grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice. Instead of arguing, you did as he asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, Crosshair sighed once more. “Tech was right.”

You turned your head, confusion knitting your brows together. “About what?”

His gaze remained fixed on the moon, his profile bathed in its soft light. “Sometimes, opposites do attract.”

You were taken aback, eyes widening and quite unsure of how to respond. “Really?”

He nodded slowly, the movement almost missable. “I secretly admire how you take my comments on the chin and aren’t afraid to speak your mind. It’s... admirable.” His voice was awkward, as if admitting his feelings was a foreign concept. His usual mask of indifference slipped slightly, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Surprise washed over you. All this time, you had thought Crosshair hated you. His constant criticism, the way he always seemed to challenge you—it had all felt like disdain. But now, you realized it was his strange way of showing respect, of acknowledging your strength.

“You could’ve gone about it a different way, y’know?”

“I know.” He responds stiffly.

You smile softly. “That’s a strange way to apologise to me as well.” You jest.

There’s a very faint chuckle that parts his lips as he says, “don’t push it.”

A heartfelt silence settled between you, the sound of the waves the only interruption. But, you still had one thing on your mind.

Breaking the silence, you asked, “Earlier, during the mission... what do you think went wrong?”

Crosshair's expression hardened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “We were distracted. We weren’t focused.”

You bit your lip, gathering your courage. “I thought... for a moment, I thought you were going to kiss me. Would you have?”

Crosshair fell silent, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

Oh no. Why did you have to open your mouth?

Embarrassment flushed through you, and you began to sit up, ready to leave. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Before you could finish, his hand reached out, gently stopping you. He said nothing, his gaze intense and unreadable as he held onto your arm.

Slowly, he sat forward and tilted your face towards his, his touch surprisingly gentle. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, a brief but electrifying connection that left you breathless, your heart trying to leap out of your chest.

The kiss was soft, tentative, as if he was testing the waters. He pulled back before you could even comprehend what was happening, his eyes searching yours, and for once, there was no hostility, only a vulnerable sincerity.

“How’s that for an apology?” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You lick your lower lip, having to suppress a dreamy sigh as you could taste him on your tongue. “Surprising.” You say softly, completely smitten all of a sudden.

He smirks, eyes scanning your face. “I’ve never seen you so bashful,”

“Yes, well, kissing someone who you thought was your enemy tends to have that effect.”

He chuckles, lifting his hand and tucking some hair that was dancing in the soft breeze behind your ear. “How about another one?”

You grin, leaning in close. “I won’t say no to that.”

Masterlist is pinned ♥️

Tags: @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @the-bad-batch-baroness

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894

#crosshair #crosshair x reader #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch #tbb crosshair

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zombieplaygrounds · 1 month

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cw: fluff with simon riley, cigarettes, reader smoking, bad tasting kissy.

"Wann' see your face.." the air was humid; sticky. There was no use being on the bed, where the mattress creaked and the sheets got filthy. No - the floor would suffice. It's cold tile pressing against your knees and legs, parting slightly to allow the meaty thigh of Simon to take place. The scene sounded more intimate than what it really was. Truthfully the two of you (mostly him) really craved a midnight cigarette without the bitching of your captain. You were wrapped up in your cotton jammies, a big shirt and shorts that hung off you. Simon coughed softly, puffs of smoke leaving his mouth a bit. So he was surprised. He tilted his head backward and exhaled. The moment went on in silence, just like that, until your greedy paws reached out for another grab at the smoldering stick "Can smoke just fine through the mask."

"Yeah, but I can't see you 'just fine' through the mask." You hissed softly through an inhale, letting the smoke leave before coughing a bit, it tasted quite shit. You always wondered why he liked that junk. Simon chuckled, snatching the cigarette back and holding it away from you. "If, you can't handle it, stop doing it." You rolled your eyes at his words, plopping backward toward the pillows that were sprawled on the floor. Your eyes fluttering shut and watching the stars through the window. Simon sat up, blowing the smoke outward through the smallest creeping crack. It was like a stop motion film, each shut of your eyes showed him slowly lifting the mask, just past the tip of his nose.

"Oh.." You mused, moving to sit up, but he quickly sent you back down with his socked foot to your shoulder. "Oh ew." Simon laughed softly, you could see his teeth now. His stubbly chin. Dirty blonde. And his lips were scarred, chapped too. "I can feel yer eyes on me, judgin'"

"M'not judgin'.. Just curious. I've never see you before, and I've seen the others..." Trailing off a bit you let your head tilt backward again, facing the ceiling. Simon was quiet, aside from his little huffs and sighs. "So..why do you hide your face, anyways?" Simon growled a bit, not intentionally, just a noise that emitted when he though too deeply. "Just the way things are. Like..grass is green, sky is blue."

"Bullshit, the grass here is brown." The two of you giggled at your words, only going silent when you heard foot steps walking down the hall. Simon quickly put out the cigarette, a towel at the bottom of the door, preventing any of the smoke scent seeping through. After a few moments the feet move passed, letting the two of you release a breath.

"Mm, I dunno why we worried so much. Cap'n can't smell shit." You giggled again. Simon rewarded you with a doting flick to your forehead. You hissed softly at him but he shushed you with a kiss. His body moving to lie next to you, only slightly hovering. He tasted bad - like cigarette, and a bit of mint. You softly gasped in realization, hitting his shoulder, "So you did eat my mints?"

Simon laughed again, tugging his mask down while you lightly sparred his arm for revenge.

#zombieplayground #zombieplaygrounds #simon x reader #simon mw #cod simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #ghost #cod fluff

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ladyloveandjustice · 4 months

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Yuri Manga for New (AND Not-So-New) Readers

I was talking on discord about some good yuri for beginners, and figured I'd repost here.

I get way more detailed some of these recommendations in this post, and there's great recs from another person too! Check it out!

I'm doing this accounting to various tones and tastes, so what works as a beginner yuri for one person might not for another, just read the info to figure out what your jam is.

I'll put a star by the ones about adults (which is the majority of them) since I've found that's always something people want.

Goodbye my Rose Garden (Victorian yuri w/ beautiful art, just beautiful all around)*

How Do We Relationship? (messy adult relationships and lots of actually realistic intimacy)*

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat- (A woman loves to cook but doesn’t have a huge appetite, only to find the woman next door to her does! She cooks for her and they really start to bond over food and the trials of being working adults. Yes, this is the one where the woman googles lesbian. It's really good)*

Bloom into You- a common go-to yuri for beginners for a reason, about a girl who believes she can't fall in love meeting a girl who wants to date her specifically BECAUSE she can't fall in love. Find out more about it and hear my thoughts here. It has a gorgeous anime that doesn't cover the complete story.

Doughnuts Under the Crescent Moon (sweet office lady romance, ace rep) *

Catch These Hands! (These two women were delinquents and rivals in high school, they meet up again, one reveals she was always into the other, she challenges her to a fight on the condition that if the other woman loses she'll date her. Lots of slapsticky fun and great for any lover of girl delinquents)*

Run away with me, Girl (there's some abuse shown in this one, but it's a story about healing, the premise is these girls dated in high school, but one of the pressured herself "normal" and marry a man, that man turns out to be abusive, so when the former lovers reunite, they decide to run away together. It's got beautiful art and a well done story)*

The Moon on a Rainy Night (absolutely spectacular, explores the relationship between a hard of hearing girl and her closeted classmate, the characters are complex and the writing is so good!)

Kase-san And...- Starting with Kase-san and the Morning Glories, this is a very fluffy and sweet high school romance. It also has a short movie. (as the manga goes on they become college students, too)

The Two of Them Are Pretty Much Like This (slice of life about a voice actress and anime screenwriter who live together as a couple. Unfortunately the ending is a bit abrupt (and likely premature) but I love their relationship)*

My fave Otherside Picnic is great for scifi and (mild) horror lovers. It's Scifi creepypasta adventure yuri. It's a slow burn but does truly spectacularly deliver on the gay. Has an anime, it's not great, you should start with the novels. Wrote an article here. https://www.animefeminist.com/how-otherside-picnic-masterfully-uses-horror-to-explore-abuse-and-show-healing-queer-love/ *(v young adults, college students)

The Guy She was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All: (A web manga about a girl who works at a record shop. Her classmate , Aya, wanders in but doesn't recognize her because she has her hair hidden with a hat and is wearing a face mask, and Aya assumes she's a guy. They bond over music and slowly start to get closer...and Aya's finds her heart is fluttering not only over this mysterious boy, but her female classmate that seems a lot like him...) It's going to get a physical release soon.

I Married my Best Friend to Shut My Parents Up (girl and her friend get married simply so her parents will stop bugging her about being single. You can probably guess where it goes from there) *

I Married my Female Friend (similar premise, except no parents involved, it's a platonic marriage they both agreed to with the promise they'll divorce if one of them falls in love. But one woman has decidedly not platonic feeling for the other that she's hiding from her, so It will likely turn romantic, it hasn't all come out here yet so I haven't finished it)*

Monthly in the Garden with my Landlord* (it didn't really hit with me but I might give it a shot again, it's solid despite the terrible title, a woman moves into a house and finds she'll be cohabitating with an idol) (Some more titles I haven't fully read that could appeal: After Hours*, Still Sick*, Cheerful Amnesia*)

My Cute Little Kitten (two roommates adopt a cat...and maybe fall in love?)*

I think all of those work as solid intro- though it does depend on what flavor you're looking for!

This article also covers some of these recs and some manga I didn't mention due to not having completely read it. so check it out: The Beginners Guide to Yuri Manga.

Here's some titles to try when you're a little more familiar with yuri (or you can try them now! I'm not your boss!)

SHWD (action yuri that's taking forever to come out over here physically, featuring extremely muscular women fighting monsters. I think it was forced to end prematurely too)*

Kiss and White Lily for my Dearest Girl: (I'm only three volumes in, but it's really enjoyable. The main storyline is about two academic rivals, where one is determined to rank first in class, and the other is an effortless genius who becomes intrigued at the possibility of someone beating her. Honestly they have the kind of messy combative sexual tension I wish we'd see more often in yuri because it's so good. The story follows other couples too. However, big warning for some nonconsensual kisses in the first volume at least).

Sweet Blue Flowers/Aoi Hana- (This one is a little bit dated, and boy is the ending weirdly paced, but a lot still holds up imo. A painful and sweet coming of age tale, it also has an anime that's good but ends too soon.

One teenage characters backstory involves incestuous (older cousin) the perpetrator of which pulls the "oh no did I turn you gay? thing" but it's definitely framed as a bad thing. )

Yuri is My Job- a story about messy lesbians in a yuri-themed cafe, and how their real relationships differ from the personas they put on. Read more about it here. Big warning for sexual assault of a minor (by an adult villain) in volume 12. Has an anime covering early material.

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lycheedr3ams · 1 year

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Choke on It ~ (part 1)

Fem!reader x hard!dom!konig

MDNI! NSFW!

Part 2

This is complete filfth and probably the most sinful thing i've ever written. not proofread

TW: gun kink, mean konig, hard dom konig, choking on his massive dick, slight masochism, hair-pulling, mask kink, swallowing his cum, lmk if I missed anything

(I'm not sure if a gun kink counts as dark content, so just be aware of this. Always use safe words and enthusiastic consent! Don't try this stuff at home.)

A few weeks ago, you told Konig that you'd like to...experiment in the bedroom a bit. He was usually a little rough, given his massive size and strength, but his words and the way he looked at you was always so gentle and loving. And you were fucking tired of it. You wanted him to just use you like you knew he could.

"I just want you to be really rough, for once," you explained to him one night. "I know you can use me however you want. Please, just do that."

His eyes widened in surprise, with a hint of worry. "Are you sure, Liebling?" he asked, concerned. "I don't want to hurt you."

You looked him right in the eyes as you said, "That's exactly what I want, Konig. Show me that I belong to you. I want you to do anything. You can even... bring a gun into it. I don't care."

His breath stopped for a moment as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. This massive beast of a soldier, who has killed so many people, is frightened by your words.

"If...if that's what you want...." he said nervously. But he couldn't help the excitement that started to blossom in his chest at the thought of finally being in control in the bedroom for once. He was always so willing to submit.

"Just surprise me, okay baby? Really, nothing is off the table."

Konig nodded and thought hard for the next few weeks.

.......

You didn't think it would happen tonight. You were just laying in your shared bed in you and Konig's apartment when he came back from maintenance training during his time off. When you heard the door shut as he entered, you got off the bed and happily walked up to him with a smile.

"Glad you're back from work," you say as you wrap your arms around his massive frame. But he doesn't hug you back. You look up at him, confused. "Are you all right? Did you have a bad day?" you ask.

His sniper hood was still on, and he was wearing the more casual camo pants and a tight black shirt, still drenched with sweat from his workout. He looked down at you without any emotion in his eyes.

"Kneel," he commanded with a low, raspy voice.

You looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

"Did you fucking hear me?" he asked as he looked down at you.

You gasped. "Y...yes. I was... just surprised, is all," you say as you begin to sink on your knees. Before both of your knees can even reach the hardwood floor, his gloved hand tangles tightly in your hair, and he pushes your face right into his crotch. You can smell his musk through his pants.

"You fucking wanted this, so you'll take it," he growled from above you. "You know what to do."

You look up at him with wide eyes before nodding and quickly undoing his belt and sliding the zipper down. Before you can even reach to pull him from his boxers, you can feel how hot and hard he is.

"You're so hard, Konig," you observed. He pulled your hair, and you yelped in pain.

"I didn't tell you to speak, now did I?" he said punishingly. "The only time your mouth should be open is when you're choking on my fucking cock. I haven't got all night."

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. This is it - this is exactly what you wanted, and you felt shame as you could feel yourself drenching your panties. You quickly pulled his hard length out from his sweaty boxers, and the scent of his sweat almost made you faint. You pumped his thick, hot length in your hand before roughly pushed your hand away and shoved your mouth down on his cock with his thumb and index finger prying your mouth open. Tears instantly sprang into your eyes from the sting of his entire length shoved into your mouth so quickly. You could feel his thick, hot tip poking the back of your throat.

He groaned above you and shoved your face down so that your nose brushed against his pubes. You coughed and sputtered with him still in your mouth, and he shook his head at you.

"Come on, you're used to my length by now, are you not?" he mocked with a teasing smirk hidden by his sniper hood. "Fucking. Take. It." He commanded, each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips into your throat. His cock touched your tonsil each time and you couldn't stop choking. He roughly pulled you off his cock by your hair and stared down at you, shaking his head as you choked and spit dribbled out of your mouth and onto the hardwood floor.

"Fucking pathetic," Konig spat. You looked up at him, hoping for some sort of comfort from your normally loving boyfriend, but only saw a demon in that moment. "Relax your throat, yeah?" he said before suddenly shoving your mouth onto his wet cock again. You were more prepared for it this time, but nothing could stop your gags when he thrusted past your tonsils. He pulled you off his cock again and let go of your hair as he reached for something tucked in a back pocket.

Your eyes widened as you coughed when you saw him holding the hand-gun that he always conceal carries. He stared at you as he turned the safety on. But it was still loaded. You looked up at him, and he almost felt pity before he harshly reached down and dragged you back to your knees by your hair.

"You're going to fucking take it, and not choke, do you understand?" he commanded as he held the end of the gun right against your head. The cold metal poked into your skull, a contrast from the warm fingers of his gloved hand in your hair. You gulped as you look up at him. He shoved the gun deeper in your skull.

"I asked you a question," he growled as he bent over you.

"Yes! I understand!" You squeaked as you nodded.

Satisfied with your answer, Konig shoved you on his length again. One hand holding the back of your head and forcing you on his cock, the other holding the gun that was shoved against the side of your head. You felt completely powerless as he thrusted deep into your throat and groaned above you. You hollowed out your cheeks and wrapped your tongue around him, trying to focus on that rather than your gag reflex and the gun against your head.

"Scheisse," Konig hissed. He looked down at you and saw your heavenly face: your nose shoved right against his pubes, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and your throat bobbing as you struggled to take him.

"All you need is a gun to your head to make you behave, is that it?" he teased as his cock twitched. "I know you're so fucking wet right now. This is what you asked me for, remember?"

You closed your eyes as you tried to nod with his length halfway down your throat. Spit was dripping down your chin and down your throat, and Konig laughed at the sight.

"So desperate for this cock, aren't you?" he teased further. He suddenly stopped thrusting and instead used your hair to move your head up and down his cock, your lips wrapping perfectly around his thick length. You could feel one prominent vein slide against your bottom lip with each stroke. You sucked hard on his tip each thrust, and he began to tremble.

"Don't fucking stop," he said as he gripped your hair tighter. The tingling pain of having your hair pulled was almost just as unbearable as his cock down your throat. He dropped the gun and placed his hands on either side of your head as he thrusted into your mouth at a frantic pace before he came loudly down your throat. You could feel his hot cum spurting and sliding down your esophagus. He finally pulled you off of him, and you nearly collapsed on the floor as you gripped your throat, coughing loudly and with spit dripping down your chin.

Konig took off his sniper hood and sat on the floor with you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently.

"My love, are you okay?" he asked with worry plainly laced in his voice. "I hope I wasn't too rough with you..."

You shook your head, your throat unable to form words. You offered him a tired smile as you placed your hand on his thigh.

"Oh, you can't speak?" he asked as you shook your head "no."

"I'm sorry, Liebling, here," he picked you up easily and set you down on the couch. Part of you wishes he would throw you around the living room too. "Let me get you some water." Konig disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, which you drank gratefully. He sat next to you and you cuddled close to him as he gently stroked your hair and undid the knots he created.

hehe

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cupidssorbet · 1 year

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“Let me use these fangs..”

Miguel O’Hara X Reader.

Summary: None! Muahaha! Includes: Biting, slight blood-kink, teasing, body appreciation, Mentions of the word ‘cunt’ & ‘pussy’, slight smug Miguel, just some filth babes.

★Please read!★ The reader has no specified race etc so it’s very much just put yourself in that place! Anyways you’re reading at your own volition, this was inspired by this tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRowUMqa/ !

You were working on some dinner for him for when he finally came home from what you called his shenanigans and what he called incredibly important. Humming along to the music that played from your speaker, dancing about as he came through the front door, his mask just barely coming up and off. You immediately catching his eyes as you swayed your hips to the music.

God it did something to him, all day long he’d been thinking about you, your face, your body, your voice, your cunt. It did something to him.

That’s why it came as a surprise to you when Miguel’s hands found your hips as he set his mask off to the side. His lips going straight for your neck as he left open mouthed kisses. “Miguel?” You managed to spit out, as you carefully put the wooden spoon you were using to stir the food in the pan down. “What is the meaning for all of this? not exactly complaining.”

You breathed out as his fangs grazed across your neck, his breath fanning against it. “He estado pensando en ti.(I've been thinking about you.)” Miguel exhaled slightly, sucking a hickie into your skin. “Me? Why- Ohhh sweet god, Why uh Why me?” You managed to get out getting stuck on some words like a broken record.

“Estas caderas, esos muslos, estos labios, este coño...(These hips, those thighs, these lips, this pussy...).” His hands snaked around feeling everywhere he could, “It’s been plaguing my mind all day.”

“God..But Miguel I’ve got dinner going I really should..” He quickly reached his hand down and flicked off the fire, “There, Now you won’t have to worry.” Miguel was quick with picking you up and bringing you up to your shared bedroom, shutting the door with his foot and gently tossing you onto the bed with a slight ‘Miguel!’ as he made his way over, “God I’ve been waiting for this,” He brought his hand to snake past your waistband of your pants and panties, finding your cunt slick and wet as he brought his mouth to kiss you, bring his kisses to come down your chin and neck leaving small bites on your neck as he went.

“All wet for me huh Chiquita?” He murmurs with that stupid smug slight smirk that you felt on your skin. His fingers rubbing gently in a teasing way on your clit, bringing it down to your needy hole dipping in causing you to gasp slightly. A slight chuckle coming him as he continued to kiss everywhere he could.

He kept pumping with one finger then two, your eyes fluttering as your breathing got labored. “I’m only just getting started and look at you a mess.” he pulls back pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth cleaning them effortlessly. “Strip.” He says and that’s all you need hear, moving as fast as you could to slide it off, shirt gone to the floor as well as your pants and your underwear & bra.

“Lay down Querida.(Darling)” He motions for you lay down against the propped up pillows, you lay back your hair splayed behind you watching as he removed his suit. You couldn’t help but stare at his face, his chest, his whole body.. he was left in just his boxers as he climbed onto the bed hooking his arms underneath your legs, bringing you closer. “I can put these to use,” he flashes his fangs, licking up the supple flesh of your inner thighs.

He left purple hickies all along your thighs purposefully missing where you wanted him most, gently biting into it licking the blood that slightly dribbled from the bites he put too much pressure on, reveling in the way you tried to bring your cunt to his face and he denied you every time.

“Miguelll..” You whine your head lolling back, “Alright…Alright,” He smiles smugly into your thigh at your whining. He brings his mouth down to your wet stick cunt licking a long stripe from your wet hole to your clit. Keeping eye contact until he dove in without hesitation. Your hand flying to cover your mouth, a gasp coming your lips. He stops, one of his hands taking yours and moving it. “No no, I wanna hear all of those noises.” He states before going straight back to what he was doing.

Eating you out like he was a starved man, his hands gripping your thighs massaging them as he continued your slick coating his chin and lips, making his fangs & lips shine. Your hands find his hair as you gasp and cry to him, tangling them into his soft hair. He groans into your cunt, that familiar feeling rising in your stomach, then he adds his fingers pumping two of them in and out. It added to the pressure and then it snapped, he lapped it up. Leaning back wiping his chin of your slick.

“God..I missed your cunt.” he hummed licking his fingers clean, the now noticeable bulge catching your eye as he brought himself up. Your rose from your spot bringing your hand to palm him making his breath hitch slightly. “Miguel let me help you please.” You looked up at him through your lashes. “You sure you can handle it?” He looks down at you exhaling slightly.

You nodded slightly, and he couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “Alright belleza(beauty).” He exhales with a slight smirk taking your spot. You smiled hurrying over laying between his legs, moving your hands up to pull down his boxers his cock springing free with a bead of precum coming from the tip. Your hand immediately coming to it, rubbing up and down your thumb coming over the tip making him inhale.

“Please..Don’t tease me like that.” He groans his head leaning back against the headboard, you smiled licking stripes up his dick before completely taking him in your mouth, pumping what you couldn’t take. Humming slightly when you heard him make noises at a reaction making him exhale shakily even more.

You moved your head in a steady up and down, gagging slightly when the tip hits the back of your throat. He revels when you gag on him, it makes him feel some kind of way. He thrusts up slightly into your mouth, spit coming to the corners of your mouth as you tried your best to still take him. His hand finds your cheek wiping any tears that fell from your eyes.

Before he could even cum in your mouth, he pulls out and sighs. “Please let me use that cunt.” He asked so politely and you couldn’t deny him, he looked so desperate. You smiled before gasping as his hands found your hips lifting you above before his tip slid through your folds. Before he gently as he possibly could pushed it in.

Groaning as it went into your warm tight pussy, “Ohhh..” You slurred as he was barely filling you with only being half way on his cock. He slowly brought you down onto it carefully before he was fully sheathed inside you. “So tight and warm.” He exhaled in your ear letting you lean back on his chest, his hand finding your clit rubbing gently circles as you murmured and mumbled.

“You like that?” All you could do was nod, “Uh-Huh, Tell me.” He demanded his fangs finding your exposed neck gently nipping and biting. “Yeah, Yeah..Really like.” you sputtered out, eyes batting closed then open lazily sitting half lidded. He smiled smugly into your neck, “Mm..Good Good,”

He had set a pace, one that started out soft and careful before he got to into it. Becoming rougher, his hand bringing your hand to rub your clit, his groans and slight whines in your eyes making you clench around his dick. “Dios cariño, ¿te gusta eso?(God honey, do you like that?)” He chuckled breathlessly.

His thrusts becoming erratic and sloppy, your cunt spasming as you came around cock, he couldn’t help but speed up at the feeling. “Feels too damn good..” He sighs his breathing labored, uneven and hot on your skin. Sweat beading at your forehead. “Please please.” You whine in more of a whisper.

“Hm?” He murmurs, “Miguel please..” He chuckles, “You,You want it in?” He hums kissing a bit rougher in your shoulder and neck, “Yes yes..” You nodded as he rammed up in your cunt as wet squelch coming from it. He sped up, “Almost there..Can you let go for me one more time, please Cariño.” His hand finds your clit rubbing circles making you clench around him.

The feeling of everything made you both snap, your cunt clenching around him spasming as he shot his white hot cum into you, his head lolling back doing slow sloppy thrusts into you. Your fluids mixing as he finally came to a slow. Out of breath and laughing slightly, “Was it what you’ve been thinking about all day?”

He gave you a kiss on the cheek, “Of course, Better than I ever dream of.” He carefully pulls out of you, making you whine at the empty feeling. “C’mon, let’s get a nice warm bath.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara smut #Cupidssorbettlibrary

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paradiseprincesss · 4 months

Note

ok ok hear me out jonathan crane x batgirl fic? Omggg

moonlight - jonathan crane x batgirl!reader

masterlist

notes: yeah so jonathan x batgirl reader is always made to be dark and i wanted to bring a new perspective to this trope. working hard every day for my pookies so i can feed u new fics all the time

summary: you and your secret lover have little rendezvous throughout gotham, but you both grow tired of the secret keeping and leading a double life. why not just run away together and leave your alter egos behind in the city of gotham?

word count: 3.1k (sigh, this was meant to be a drabble...)

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), kissing, secret & established relationship, reader and jon are both whipped af lol, FLUFF like...lots of it

you sighed as you leant against the ledge of a terrace that peered out onto gotham city. it was nearly midnight, and here you were, stood alone on the highest floor of a parkade. well, not totally alone.

"thought i might find you here," a voice calls from behind you, "you look rather sad, darling."

turning around, you see jonathan in his usual suit and tie, along with the burlap scarecrow mask covering his face. he makes his way over to you, towering over you by a long shot with his tall height. he peers down at you, his strikingly blue eyes watching you through the little holes in his mask.

"i hate this city," you say solemnly, "everything is corrupt, and everyone has lost all their morals."

"that's gotham for you, sweetheart." he says matter-of-factly, now looking out onto the cityscape with you.

as the warm, summer breeze blows past both of you, neither of you speak. you stay silent at his remark, and he picks up on how your feeling. he knows you - he knows you very well. jonathan sighs, and for a minute, it was like just the two of you existed in this very moment in time.

"we'll move somewhere far away," he says softly, pulling you into his side as his hands rested on your waist, "i promise. i'll find us a quiet house in a quiet neighbourhood, and it'll be just us for the rest of eternity."

you look up at him lovingly, and he returned the same expression as he looked down at you. this wasn't how it was supposed to be - villains and hero's aren't meant to fall for one another. yet, here you were, wrapped in your so called "enemies" embrace. but you wouldn't change it for the world.

jonathan still recalls the day you first met, the memory ever so vivid inside of his mind. you were out fighting crime or whatever it was that you were doing that night, and he was out doing his typical, no-good, illegal activities. you know, fear-gassing and poisoning people; the usual. you'd stumbled across jonathan - or as you knew him back then, the scarecrow - finishing up what appeared to be a drug deal of some sort in an abandoned warehouse.

jonathan remembered the way his heart staggered when he saw you in your tight, slightly very skimpy, little latex bodysuit that you wore. the matching thigh high boots didn't help, and neither did that awfully pretty face of yours. he almost forgot you were batmans accomplice for a second, your appearance distracting him greatly.

"batgirl," he cooed mockingly, watching your every move, "so nice of you to finally join me."

"scarecrow," you sneered, "i've been looking for you."

"i'm flattered, darling. i really am." he says to you, making your blood boil.

"shut up-"

"and might i say, that latex suit is leaving very little to the imagination. if i knew this was how you would show up, i would've made plans to run into you sooner." he says, interrupting you as he cooed mockingly once more with hungry eyes trailing your body.

suddenly, you felt vulnerable and exposed under his scrutiny and lingering gaze. you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself as you felt his eyes lingering on your body.

"don't bother trying to run-"

"oh, trust me, i'm not running off anytime soon. my goodness, batgirl. aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" he cuts you off once more, stepping closer to you.

"...what?" you say with a dumbfounded tone, looking at him incredulously.

the two of you often laughed about the way you had met - the circumstances were a little odd, sure, but that just made the whole story of how you met even cuter. jonathan was never one to be so straight forward - until he met you. and you weren't one to fall so easily for a man, but that was before jonathan was in the picture. after your chance encounter with one another, you kept running into each other.

each time, you would threaten him, and he would flirt with you in retaliation. you'd tell him you had him corned for real this time, and he'd tell you that he had no complaints - he once said if you killed him then and there, he'd "die a happy man." the whole back and forth of you aggressively threatening him while he flirted with you went on for months, but eventually you cracked.

you didn't want to cave in, but once you saw what he looked like under that mask, you were folding like a goddamn lawn chair. the second you pulled the scarecrow mask off of his face, your jaw dropped. he was so attractive - and of course, he felt the same way from the moment he saw you. within a minute of the mask being pulled off his head, you were tangled up in his arms as he backed you into a wall, kissing you feverishly.

at first, there wasn’t a title to your “relationship,” but neither of you could give each other up. he needed you and you needed him. that was that. one night, as the two of you met up in secret once more, he asked you on a proper dinner date - which you agreed to, of course. it was romantic; he took you to a gorgeous, high-end restaurant that was classy and very...him. that same night, something shifted in the dynamic you two shared. it wasn’t just scarecrow and batgirl anymore - it was two people who were falling hopelessly in love.

from then on, the two of you were head over heels for one another, but both of you agreed to keep it a secret. when the sun was out during the day, you two were a normal couple; happily in love and holding hands as you walked down the streets of gotham. but by nightfall, you were strangers, no - enemies. it helped that nobody knew your alter egos, so during the day you two could be happily in love. but it was also a hassle to have to sneak around like two teenagers in love when the night crawled around.

his accomplices and the gotham rogues of the city couldn’t know that he was in love with batgirl, and you couldn’t have your accomplices or worse, bruce wayne, finding out you were devoted to the one person you shouldn’t be devoted to. i mean, it was past just a fling at this point.

it was love.

you two shared an apartment together (and a dog!). it was commitment at its finest. at first, the whole secret keeping and hush hush of it all was a little thrilling, but over time it got tiring. why couldn’t you just be happy? why did it have to be this way? you didn’t want to hide it anymore.

as you stood in the empty parkade with jonathan, you suggested an idea that you had been thinking about for a while now.

“why don’t we just run away?” you ask softly, coming back to reality as you looked up at the man who you adored dearly.

“what, like right now?” he asked, watching you through the scarecrow mask.

“what’s stopping us?” you asked before answering your own question, “well, your job actually. never mind, i’m being irrational.”

“i could find a job as a psychiatrist practically anywhere,” he shrugged, “there’s a shortage of doctors in every city.”

“that is true,” you say back, and his hand gripped your waist tighter now, “but what about my schooling?”

“you can transfer, can’t you?” he asked casually.

“…well, yeah.” you say with a small chuckle. you were surprised he wasn’t opposed to such a reckless decision, he was usually the rational one. “i just thought you wouldn’t be so…i dunno, okay with it, i guess.”

“don’t you know how much i love you, moonlight?”

moonlight.

that was his nickname for you. something about it was so saccharine, so sweet but so fitting at the same time. jonathan thought it suited you perfectly because you were his moonlight. beautiful but sensual. your love was magnetic and addictive - magical, almost. just like how the moon brought a sense of calm and comfort to many, you brought a sense of calm and comfort to jonathan.

“you know i love you just as much,” you say softly, intertwining your hands with his, “the most, actually.”

“impossible,” he scoffs playfully, "...let’s runaway. leave our lives behind.”

you smile sweetly at jonathan, a love drunk expression painted on your face - he was truly the only man you had eyes for. “and abandon our…hobbies?” you ask softly.

“i’m willing to leave it all behind,” he nods, “as long as it means i get to have forever with you.”

for a moment, you thought you were going to cry from his sentimental confession. you thought there must’ve been something in the air tonight, but he was also never short of showing you all his love and affection. you stared up at him speechlessly as tears welled in your eyes from the romantic moment shared between the two of you. just two lost souls tailor made for each other.

“moonlight,” he whispered, “you and me, forever.”

“you and i, forever.” you whisper back, and he kissed you softly.

after breaking apart from the kiss, the two of you head back to your shared apartment. neither of you slept that night, and jonathan took the following day off of work. together, you spent the next twenty four hours searching for a new home far, far away. next came the plane tickets, and suddenly, you had bags on top of bags stacked in the departure gate.

“i can’t believe you quit your job for this.” you laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as the two of you lined up to board the plane. “and your…side hustle.”

“i have a new job waiting for me in florida,” he said softly, kissing the top of your head, “and you have your new university waiting for you.”

“this is true.”

the flight was uneventful, you fell asleep on him and he had awoken you when the plane landed. the following week went by in a blur, the two of you moved into your new beach front properly in key biscayne. only fifteen minutes away from miami, it was convenient for jonathan to get to his new job, and close for you to drive to your new university where you continued your studies.

he’d given up being scarecrow, and you’d given up being batgirl.

the two of you disappeared without a trace, and all that you left behind was a note on both your behalves saying you were leaving forever, and that you didn’t want to be found.

“this place is so beautiful. i’m so glad we’re out of gotham, i was getting sick of that city.” you say softly, crawling into bed wearing nothing but your lacy, silk slip.

jonathan opens his arms for you - an invitation to come cuddle, and you gladly accept. “i know,” he whispers, “it’s like paradise. but anywhere is paradise with you, moonlight.”

“you softie.” you giggle, as he started to pepper kisses down your neck, making you shiver.

“i love you,” he whispered against your neck, nipping softly at the delicate skin, “let me show you how much i love you.”

you agreed to it, feeling needier than ever. the warm, summer breeze blew through the half-open sliding door of your balcony. the night was young, and the waves crashed over the shoreline softly as the moon hanging high with the stars illuminated your dark bedroom. it was like something out a romance novel - secluded and romantic.

“moving here was the best decision i’ve ever made,” he said softly, slowly slipping the straps of your lace off of you, “i’d do anything for you - but i think you know that, don't you?”

“please, baby,” you whisper, letting him undress you sensually, “i’m forever yours. my heart is in your hands.”

“i think this is what heaven on earth feels like,” he decides, laying himself down between your legs as he slowly started to drag your matching, lacy panties down, “you’re my favourite.”

before you could spew out any more romantic, poetic nonsense, his face was buried between your legs. a soft gasp left your lips, and your back arched instantly as he licked a long, fat stripe up your folds. the only two sounds to be heard in that room was your wetness as he lapped up your soaking cunt, and the waves crashing onto the shore. two sides of the same coin, in an odd but beautiful way.

perhaps jonathan was right - this did feel like heaven on earth.

finally, no more hiding. no more pretending. no more double life. the night was yours, and you allowed it to take you over. for once, you could scream his name all you wanted into the darkness. you were letting him devour you the way you so desperately wanted him to every single time you’d see him prowling around the streets of gotham. every single time you had to pretend he was a stranger.

but jonathan wasn’t a stranger - he was yours.

the feeling of his tongue on your cunt, licking and nipping softly, caused you to moan out his name softly. he continued to leave teasing little kisses all over your soaking pussy, and when he ate you out like a starved man, your legs were starting to shake.

“oh my god,” you gasp, “i-i’m close.”

“you’re divine.” he mused against your cunt as he continued to eat you out skillfully, his tongue reaching all the right places.

all you could get out were breathless moans and cries before you were creaming on his face, and he didn’t stop. he kept licking, nipping, and kissing every part of your pretty pussy until you had to physically push his head away from your slick coated thighs and trembling legs.

“i could eat you out forever,” he sighs, looking down at you as he started to pull his plaid pyjama pants down, “you taste so sweet, like candy.”

you blush and roll your eyes playfully at his comment, trying to ignore the way it went straight to your head. he pushed you back onto the pillows of the bed softly, and lined his throbbing cock up with your slick folds. you both let out breathless moans when he bottomed out inside of you, and your hands reach up to his shoulders as he started to thrust himself in and out of you.

the stretch was intoxicating, and it felt like his cock was made for your cunt. as the head of his cock continued to brush up against that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes started to roll back into your head from the immense pleasure your boyfriend was giving you right now. your plush walls clenched down on his veiny cock, and both of you were losing yourself in a mixture of moans and overwhelming pleasure.

"you feel brand new every time i fuck you," he said lowly, "jesus - fuck, you feel so good."

his praise had your cheeks burning, but it also had your toes curling and your dripping core clenching on him. as you attempted to look straight into his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in the pools of his icy blue irises. it was almost like he brought you clarity. actually, scratch that - he did bring you clarity.

"i'm, mm, a-already close," you moan as he looked down at you hungrily, "f-fuck, so deep."

he brought your legs up over his shoulder swiftly, pounding your cunt at a deeper angle now. you swore for a minute you were seeing stars as he plowed himself in and out of your slick walls, and you were starting to feel absolutely, positively cockdrunk.

"beautiful," he spoke lovingly, his tone both sweet and saccharine, "cum for me."

the band in your lower stomach snapped as he spoke so softly to you, and your pussy tightened up around his fat cock, causing him to groan at the feeling. your eyes rolled back once more as your legs were trembling over his shoulders, and his name was falling from your lips like you were worshipping him. you did worship him - he was your god.

"thaaaat's it," he groaned, "i need- fuck- i need to fill you up. i need to watch my cum drip out of your pretty pussy."

his words were starting to drive you insane. if you hadn't already lost touch with reality after that heart-stopping orgasm he just gave you, you sure were now.

"please f-fill me up, p-pleeeeease," you begged, whining towards the end of your sentence as your mind started to go blank with the way he was fucking your tight, soaking hole. "i love y-ou, jon-"

as he watched your face twist in pleasure, he couldn't believe how pretty you looked all fucked out from him. your staggered, broken, breathless pleas had his cock twitching. finally, as you told him you loved him, he couldn't hold himself back from filling you up any longer. he almost whispered as his cum spilled into you, painting your walls white as he let every last drop of his seed fill you.

his hips stilled, and your eyes fluttered open as the room went quiet. the only sounds to be heard was the heavy breathing coming from both of you. jonathan smiled sweetly at you, letting out a content sigh before pulling himself out of you gently. you winced slightly at the feeling, but he welcomed you with open arms as you snuggled into his embrace.

quietly, you listened to the splashing water on the shoreline outside of your balcony. the waves were calm today, and the night was warm. the palm trees that surrounded your small, secluded home on the beach brought a sense of tranquility. the both of you let the silence between the bliss linger for a moment longer before jonathan spoke up softly.

"i love you, moonlight." he whispered softly, playing with your hair.

truth be told, jonathan didn't think he could fall any deeper for you than he already had. he just couldn't stop; everything about you made the usually reserved and rather cold ex-con turn soft. you were his night sky, stars, planets and everything in between.

jonathan never knew that he could have moonlight in his hands - until the night he held you.

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hypostatic-oath · 9 months

Text

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

#heavy self indulgent vibes on this one y'all #FINALLY this one was in the drafts for so long istg #also you will pry neuvillette caring about furina from my cold dead hands udc what sort of relationship they have HE CARES ABOUT HER #furina deserves sm better #PLEASE let yourself be taken care of furina we love you #yes i hc it rained after furina moved away from the palais mermonia #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #genshin impact sagau #sagau overseer #sagau furina #man i really need to write happier stuff. theres always someone sad i wonder if this says smth about me

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