#“what I NEED is to get this paperwork done so that rest is an option” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterman-spideyparker · 2 years

Text

Pure (Matt Murdock x Fem!Virgin!Reader)

Author’s Note: Well, everyone, I’ve strapped on my slut pants for this one. How I got this idea, I don’t know. All I know is that I had it, wrote it, needed to take a cold shower in the middle of writing it, and finished it. I think it’s even a little funnier after this last episode of She-Hulk, especially since I wrote it before I saw it. Is this self-serving? Yes. Is this also the perfect alternative fic option for me to include a gif of Bed Matt™️ when I wanted to but didn’t for another fic? Also yes. Enjoy, sluts (affectionate)! :)

Summary: After Matt overhears a conversation between you and Karen, his feelings that he holds for you already take on a new life, and his thoughts won’t rest until he sees them through.

Warnings: Fluff, mutual friends pining but neither of them know it until they know it, swearing, smut (virgin reader, nervous/excited reader, oral - f!receiving, fingering, sloppy kisses, P in V, praise kink! praise kink!, soft!dom!Matt (did I use that right?), Communication King Murdock, light corruption kink?, unprotected sex--if I’m gonna do a corruption kink, I might as well go all the way on it), cutesy cuteness because I just love seeing Matt happy.

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson and Karen Page

Word Count: 5,957

Matt’s not sure what word he’d use to describe you—one single term seems impossible to ascribe. Every time he tries to think of one, it never seems to capture your essence. You’re the furthest thing from selfish, and you only want to help those around you. You’re like light, a soothing breeze on a warm summer day.

One day, he’s talking with Father Lantom, finally having taken the old priest up on his offer of a latte at a chat. When the word “pure” falls from his lips, Matt immediately thinks of you—your kindness, your laugh, your optimism, and your heart. Everything about you is pure, and only enhances every last thing that you do.

But when Matt overhears you talking with Karen the following week, both Foggy and him up to their necks in casework, he comes to realize just how true that connotation is.

“So,” you hum, a lithe tone up-pitching your voice. “How’s everything going with you and Frank.”

Karen blushes and laughs, shaking her head as she files paperwork while you print. “We’re doing good. We went to Coney Island last night.”

“Cute. Did he win you a giant stuffed animal?”

“Actually, yeah. A giant frog.”

“That’s so sweet, I think I’m gonna get a cavity from the story. A full night just playing carnival games?”

“Well, we kind of cut it short. We went back to my place, and, well.”

It takes a second for it to click for you. “Oh.”

“C’mon, (Y/N)! You know how it is. That giddy excitement, especially when you haven’t had a chance to see one another in a long time. You get handsy with each other, he whispers something in your ear . . .”

You nervously clear your throat, and Matt can hear you nod your head as you work to organize the papers printing on the braille machine. Your heart is racing. “Y-Yeah,” you breathe. “Of course.”

Karen notices your shift in tone. “(Y/N), you have done it, haven’t you?”

“Well, um . . .”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. I—,” she tries to backpedal.

“No, Kare, it’s fine. It’s just something I’ve done yet, that’s all.”

“Can I ask why?” she asks hesitantly.

Matt can hear you shrug.

“It’s a big step,” you say softly. “And I don’t know . . .”

“Is it like a religion thing, or—?”

“No.” You pause, unsure how to explain your mentality, mortified when your brain plays a ‘What if?’ situation with the idea and your crush on Matt. “If I’m not good at it or . . . I don’t know. It’s the idea that they could just leave the next day because they don’t like me anymore or because I wasn’t good enough. I’ve been rejected for less. I don’t want that to be added to the list of reasons why. To know that they’d stay is important for me. So far, none of them have or have wanted to.”

Matt feels his heart sink while Karen shuffles, unsure of what to say.

“I know the right guy is out there for you,” she settles on. “And I’m sure when you find him and when you’re ready, you’ll know, and it’ll be great. So great, you won’t be able to walk right.”

You let out a soft sigh; with your dating history, you’re not entirely convinced that her words are true, but you appreciate her sentiment. “A girl can only hope, right?”

He’s so caught up in what he just heard, Matt barely registers your footsteps moving towards his office. A gentle knock on his door brings him into the present and away from his thoughts.

“I’ve got those files for you,” you say. “I can put it in the case folder if you want and you can get to them when you’re ready.”

Matt clears his throat and straightens. “I can take them,” he says with a little tilt of his head and a smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Matt,” you say, placing them in his open hand before you walk back to your desk.

After overhearing your conversation, Matt can’t prevent his mind from wandering. He’s thought about maybe asking you out before, but he’s been worried that with everything he is, everything he does, he’d ruin your friendship. But now that he had overheard this conversation? Not only does he wonder what it’d be like to kiss you, but now to feel your body under his, completely at his mercy as he is the first person to explore you in the most intimate of ways, his hands being the only thing to give you support as he ruts into you, feeling you clench him tightly. Having you sit in his lap, bouncing up and down, rocking back and forth, your face buried in his neck as you moan and whine just for him. Bending you over his desk, leaning over you to kiss down your spine, marking up your flesh . . .

“Are you even paying attention to a word in saying?” Foggy says. Matt couldn’t tell God Himself the point at which his best friend and partner entered his office he’s so lost in thought.

“Sorry, no,” Matt says sheepishly.

“Who is it this time? That short lawyer with the curly hair heading the new GLK/H office in SoHo?”

He chuckles nervously and shakes his head. “No, not her.”

“Well, I expect the full details when you’re a little less horny.”

“Sure, Fog,” he appeases. “What’s up?”

“I have some things for the discovery on the Christiansen case. Turns out the McNeils were a little less honest than they lead us to believe . . .”

“Thanks for staying late,” Matt says, casually leaning against his office door frame, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie long gone somewhere in his office with a few buttons undone.

“No problem, Matt,” you smile, adjusting at your desk to turn and smile at him. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“You always do more than you’re ‘here for’, (Y/N).” He pauses and licks his lips. “You know how much I appreciate you, right? Everything that you do, both for your job here and what you do outside of work.”

“Thanks, Matty,” you say softly, his words making a warm feeling spread across your skin.

He leans away from the doorframe, slowly walking toward where you sit, his hands in his pockets. “You want to get out of here? We could grab a bite, if you want.” His fingers graze over his watch. “It’s late, and I can’t go starving my favorite employee.”

You laugh, the pads of your chair gliding across the floor as you stand up and move toward him. “Don’t let Foggy hear you say that.”

“Eh, he doesn’t count. We’re partners. You’ve stepped up in an incredibly huge way since Karen started at the Bulletin full-time. Nelson and Murdock would’ve sunk without you.”

A blush burns at your cheeks as you dip your head. “You’re giving me too much credit, Matt. It’s all you and Foggy.”

Matt lifts your chin with his finger, gently urging you to look at his face, to stare at his eyes behind his the red lenses of his glasses.

“You’re too good for everyone, you know that? Pure,” he says softly, his voice hitting a low register. “If people can’t recognize that, they don’t deserve you.”

You’re afraid that your words will catch in your throat while your heart races. “Are you saying that you deserve me?” you whisper.

“I’d love to think I do, but, you’re far too good for me. But I’d like to stick around—find that answer out for sure.” He takes a half step closer, feeling your body heat pour onto his frame. “Tell me to stop,” Matt breathes, his voice hitting a sinful timbre as his hot breath tickles your skin. “Just tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Matthew, I . . .” you whisper, your lashes fluttering as you try to keep your thoughts straight.

You shouldn’t. He’s your boss.

He’s your friend.

But you want him.

And he wants you. First and foremost, he wants you for who you are and how you make him feel.

You’ve never felt this before. You’ve never had your heart race so fast and your brain short circuit like this.

“Words, angel.”

Those two words make you lose all self control as you crash your lips to Matt’s, your arms flinging around his neck, your fingers running through his hair and tugging at the strands. Matt moans against your lips, pulling you impossibly close as he leans forward to meet your kisses. Your bodies spin around, pinning you between him and the wall as you exchange passionate embraces. The metal of Matt’s glasses creak between the force of your kisses. Matt’s tongue deftly slides into your mouth, needing to taste every inch of you. Your noses smush together as Matt tightens his grip on your waist, keeping your body in place as he pushes against you. This feeling of his hips against yours is enough to send goosebumps all over your body, parting your lips in a moan that allow him to capture your bottom lip between his, his teeth tugging at the flesh. You’re both breathing heavily as you stand in the office.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Matt admits, tucking some hair being your ear. His hand gently slides down to your neck, holding onto you softly before leaning forward to kiss you again. His tongue parts your lips once more, making the kiss a little sloppy and wet. His lips are as soft and plush as a new pillow, easily clouding your thoughts and judgement.

“Matt, wait,” you stop him, your hands on his chest to create some distance between the two of you, your chest suddenly feeling too small for your beating heart.

Oh no, he thinks. I fucked up, and I fucked up bad.

“(Y/N), listen, I’m sorry, I—,” he starts, but you halt him with some soft taps to his chest.

“No, Matt. It’s just . . . Well, I’ve never . . . I haven’t . . .” You dip your head, embarrassed at the moment, just like you have felt every time you’ve gotten to this point before. Unlike the other times, however, there is so much more weighing on this for you—this is Matt. “I don’t want to just be a fling for you, Matt. I can’t be a fling. I . . . I care about you too much.”

Matt hears your heart race faster, your entire being on the verge of becoming a complete and utter mess. You’re not sure at what point you started to have feelings for Matt, but you know that they’re there and they’re strong—the fact that he even reciprocates them in the slightest is exciting and terrifying. But at the same time, you know that Matt has quite a reputation, and you don’t want to be just another name on a long list of ladies.

Matt moves one of your hands directly above his heart, holding your other firmly in his. “You could never be a fling. You’re so much more to me than any relationship I’ve had before. It’s only you. And I want to show you just how much I mean that.”

Matt’s words wash over you like warm water from your shower head, His heart beats steadily with each word, the posture of your hand on his chest a silent, wonderful reassurance that he means everything he says. You capture his lips with yours, the embrace languid and tender but absolutely brimming with burning desire. He smiles down at you after your lips part, his nose brushing against yours. “Then I guess the question is if you can keep your hands to yourself long enough for us to make it back to my place.”

The door to his loft isn’t even closed before you bring your lips back to his, pulling him by his shirt collar and into your body, snaking you hands over his shoulders and onto the back of his neck when you feel you have him close enough. Matt’s hands slide down your body and under your thighs, lifting them up around his waist. You moan in delight into his mouth, his lips moving to your neck to nip, suck, and lick at the think skin that you are all too eagerly offering him. He tosses his glasses on the table by the door as he walks your bodies from the entryway to the bedroom. Matt’s attempt to gently place you down on the mattress is skewed by his own growing desire, turning the motion into more of a toss, your body bouncing up and down on the furniture.

Matt kneels at the edge of the bed, volleying kisses back and forth on the inside of your legs. Pushing up the fabric of your flowing skirt, he gains access to your thighs, becoming a little more aggressive with his ministrations, nibbling at the skin, licking down the little stings that accompany it. You let out breathy little sighs, each press of Matt’s lips against your skin making your heart race in a glorious fashion. Each kiss moves higher up your leg, spreading new branches of goosebumps and warmth all over.

That when you feel it—an overpowering wetness between you legs, trapped in your panties.

“Matt,” you breathe. Internally panicking that you’ve started your period far before you were supposed to, you wanted to push Matt away to save your embarrassment. But Matt knows exactly what really happened—it’s a sign of your enjoyment, your eagerness for him, your want. You really are so pure. Part of him feels guilty for making a move on you like this no matter how readily you accepted him, no matter how you both feel for one another, but the thought of being your first, being the one to tarnish that pristine virtue, to make you his, it makes him rock hard.

His hands snake up your thighs and push them wide open, letting your scent hit through his nose, permitting through your panties.

“Matt,” you try again, begging God above or whatever supreme being is there to spare you any further embarrassment.

“You smell so pretty for me, angel,” he groans, brushing his nose on your clothed core. “Can’t imagine how you taste.”

Matt presses soft kisses to your clothed core, pulling a whine from your lips.

“Your panties are so soft,” he mutters, nipping at you through the soft, thin fabric some more. “I bet your cunt is even softer.”

Dragging his lips up your panties, he grasps the hem of your underwear with his teeth, slowly pulling it down your hips and off your body. You watch the movement as Matt seductively works, and you’re shocked to find the inside of your panties void of any red color. Instead there is just a large damp spot in the middle and a long string of a clear something coming from you and to the fabric. Once your underwear is midway down your thighs, Matt uses his calloused fingers to slide them off of your body, letting the fabric pool on the floor between his bent legs and the bed.

“I want you to tell me how it feels,” Matt whispers, his hot breath fanning across your glistening folds as his nose brushes up against the top of your pubic mound, placing a little kiss there in anticipation. “I want to hear those pretty little sounds fall from your lips, okay?”

You don’t even get a proper chance to really comprehend or answer his question. Matt’s lips are on you in a second, pressing a soft, open kiss right on a special bundle of nerves that make you moan and your heart sharply skip a beat.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he smirks, gently grazing his hands over your exposed thighs. “That feel nice, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathe, looking down at him, the sight of his face between your legs sending you absolutely wild. “Do it again.”

A devilish smile grows on his lips before he complies to your request, this time adding light sucks to the way he wraps his plush lips around your clit. You can’t help the needy moans that fall out of your mouth, keening for more attention from his lips. You can feel Matt’s lips pull into a big smile as he continues to work his mouth. He pulls away for half of a second before licking a stripe up your folds. You whine, your back arching off of his mattress while your head tosses to the side. It’s like you’re not in control of your body while Matt’s lips are on you, twisting and turning into the pleasure. Matt has to use his forearm and one of his strong hands to pin your hips down to the mattress as he eats you out like a starved man. The combination of licks, sucks, and kisses turn you into a whimpering and moaning mess. When he lightens the embraces, you think you’re getting off easily. What you don’t expect is for a finger from Matt’s free hand to lightly brush up against your glistening folds. You suck in a hiss at the sensation, causing Matt to glance back up toward you while his finger continues to move up and down.

The sight is something glorious. His fluffy brown hair is disheveled and the tip of his nose, lips, and chin are covered in a marvelous slick from having his face buried between your legs. His honey hazel eyes are warm as they focus just to the right of you, making you feel safe as you cross a boundary you can never come back from.

“If you enjoyed that, angel, I think you’ll like what comes next,” Matt teases, his voice low with lust.

Dragging his fingers back down, you feel him at your opening. His fingers, absolutely covered in your arousal, gently push your lips open as he feels you; then, he carefully prods your entrance with his middle finger, pushing in slowly. Your eyes flutter shut and you moan as you feel him, slowly moving his finger in and out of you.

“Tell me how that feels, angel,” he urges, unable to stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to your hipbone.

“G-good,” you exhale, closing your eyes to focus on the way that he manages to sneak his finger a little bit deeper in you each time.

“And do you like this better?” Matt punctuates his question with a curl of his finger, the tip of his digit scraping against your wrinkly walls and hitting something soft and spongey that draws an intense moan from you. A deep chuckle rolls from Matt’s lips and coats your warm body like honey. “Is that a yes, sweetheart? I need you to try and use your words for me.”

“Better,” you whine, writhing against his arm. “More.”

“More.” The way he coos my words back to you is somewhere between a question and amusement. Regardless of his exact tone, Matt carefully slides another finger in you. Rolling your head from one side to another, you let out a low groan, basking in how amazing the sensation feels as Matt manages to hit something so spongey and wonderful, increasing the pleasure with each ministration. You can’t but help the way that your toes curl and your back arches when he puts his mouth back on you. Your hand shoots towards his head, fingers tugging at his hair to keep him close. You’re an absolute mess as Matt works you, and you have no idea how or what to focus on more—his fingers or his mouth. What does begin to register, however, is a tightness in your tummy, a fluttering. You’re not exactly sure what’s going on, but you know that the longer that Matt works, the way that his touches set your body on fire, the more prominent the feeling gets.

You wine as he removes his fingers from you, his mouth kissing everywhere but where he had been thoroughly inspecting the real estate. Pushing your dress up and off your body, Matt wastes no time kissing as much of your gradually exposed skin as possible. Once the fabric is pushed over your head and off of your arms, Matt peppers kisses all over your collarbone and neck as he pulls your bra down and off, just avoiding your lips as he changes locations.

“You’re going so good, sweetheart,” he praises, his hands finding a home on your waist as he finally brings his lips to yours. “But that feeling you had? That good one in your tummy? I want to be in you when it finally lets go. Will you let me do that, angel?”

Matt barely has a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt “yes” and bring his mouth back on yours. The kiss is deep and needy, and he lets you undo his shirt and feel all over his sculpted figure. You don’t know what takes over you, but all you know is that you need Matt in every way, shape, and form possible. Matt finishes the work you started, wriggling off his white button down as he paints kisses all over your chest. His senses are in overdrive as he comes in contact with the supple skin of your breasts, his nose filling with a cocktail of your fruity body wash, your skin, and the thin sheen of sweat that has emerged on your body. While the noises you make as you move against his sheets is a beautiful symphony, the way your heart sings for him is the best thing he has heard in his entire life. Its rhythm is one of elation and tenderness—pure.

There’s that word again.

Even as you lay under Matt, completely at his mercy as the two of you engage in an activity that should pollute the very core of the term, but still manage to embody the fullest extent of the word.

As the thought crosses his mind as he brushes the tip of his nose up your skin to rejoin your lips, that’s when the thought comes to him.

You’re it for him.

“I thought I was the one who’s supposed to get flustered,” you chuckle breathily, your hand moving to caress his cheek.

A smile pulls at Matt’s lips, bringing those beautiful crinkles out for your enjoyment. “I just want to remember this,” he explains softly before pulling you in for a lusty kiss, a moan falling from his lips into you. Matt gives your swollen and tingly skin a few more tender kisses before leaning back on his knees, undoing his belt and ridding himself of all fabric below the waist.

You suck in a gasp when you see his cock out, hard, painfully taut, and leaking. All for you. Matt shifts his weight to his left, twisting his body to reach for the nightstand. You take his hand in both of yours, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Angel, I—,” he starts, but you give his hand a squeeze.

“Matt, I want this,” you keen as you try to calm your excited breathing. Everything feels right. “I want you.” You pull him back into you, and he lowers himself over your body so his hair tuft flops in front.

“Are you sure?” God above, is his voice so soft when he says that question. It’s brimmed with excitement, affection, tenderness, and nerves.

“I’m sure,” you confirm as his thumb gently strokes back and forth on your cheek. The pad of his digit roams to your bottom lip, letting him feel just how soft it is. You open your mouth slightly, and Matt can’t help but slide his finger in, letting you capture it and envelope it in warmth. Now, it’s Matt’s turn to moan as he feels your tongue swirl around his finger, letting his mind wander to what your mouth would be link around his cock.

That question will have to be answered another time.

Right now, he wants nothing more than to be buried as far as he can possibly get in you.

Pulling out his finger, he presses one more kiss to your lips before adjusting himself between your spread legs. You've gotten even wetter for him, if that's at all possible, and the smell of it drives him up a wall.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" he tells you. "I want to hear those beautiful nosies from you, angel, but you need to stop me if it hurts and you need some time. Can I hear you promise me that?"

"Promise," you whisper, your heart racing in an out of control pace. Matt takes one of your hands in his, lacing his fingers with yours in an effort to soothe you.

"Good girl," he coos. You feel a deep blush burn at your cheeks and your heart race as you squeeze his hand involuntarily. "You like that, huh? You like when I call you my good girl?" Just like earlier in the night, your brain short circuits when the name falls from his lips once more. "Oh, I think l'm gonna have fun with that," he teases, bringing your entwined hands to his lips for a kiss.

Carefully, Matt moves forward, and you can feel the head of his cock press against your opening. He pauses for a beat before he continues to press forward, making you a whimpering mess with each movement. With each gentle push into you, your pleasure grows.

"Wait," you squeak when the burning stretch becomes too much. "Hold on a second."

"That's my good girl," he praises. "Doing what I asked, using your words. Tell me when you're ready for more, angel."

As you take your time to adjust, Matt brings your wrist and forearm up to his lips, kissing, sucking, and nipping at the skin, licking down each mark he makes in an effort to soothe the sting.

"More," you swallow.

"Kisses, angel?" he smiles against your skin. "Or cock?"

"Cock," you breathe. "I want more."

Planting a kiss smack dab in the middle of your palm, Matt continues moving his hips forward slowly, letting out a low grunt as he pushes deeper in you.

"Oh, God, Matt," you moan, the sting of intrusion having turned into something only of pleasure. "Oh, so good.”

"So perfect, sweetheart," he sighs as his face controls in pleasure that matches your own. A low rumble falls from his chest when he bottoms out in you, somehow managing to fit all the way inside.

"Talk to me," he hums as he leans back over your body, kissing up the curve of your side and up and over your breasts, up the column of your neck, and finally to your lips.

"Move," you beg, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth before you press kisses up his jaw and to his ear. If that's what him pushing in felt like, you want it all. Over and over and over. "I-I need you to move."

A blissed-out smirk falls across Matt's lips before he kisses you hungrily, one hand resting on the side of your neck while the other weaves through your hair in the back of your head.

"You're doing such a good job taking my cock like that," he praises as he slowly beings to set a rhythm, the drag of his length against you unlike anything you have felt before. "Such a good girl for me, letting me spread you wide and take you. God, angel, you’re doing so good, taking me all the way like that, nice and deep.”

How Matt is forming coherent sentences is fully beyond you at this point. Maybe it’s because he’s done this before, maybe it solely something he’s doing to keep you calm as he pushes through his own pleasure.

“So tight, angel,” he grunts, his hands sliding up your thighs towards your hips. “Oh, you feel so good. Fuck.”

You moan and whimper with each one of Matt’s thrusts, and you yank him down on top of you, desperate to feel every last inch of him against you. He groans but quickly lets out a little chuckle, thrown off and endeared by your excitement as he cages your body below his.

“You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?”

“Y-Yes,” you moan, moving your hands along his incredibly soft skin. You paint a trail of kisses all along his shoulders, collarbones, and neck while he keeps on rocking into you. His hot breath tickles your skin as his beard brushes goosebumps all over your body while he tries to match you embraces. Matt whispers and grunts little praises into your skin, never faltering to let you know how good you’re doing for him.

“M-Matt,” you whine, your nails digging little crescents into his back. “S-Shit! Mmm!”

“Words,” he grunts, his ability for full sentences now starting to escape him.

“God, you’re so deep!” you cry, your eyes fluttered shut as you absorb the pleasure he gives you as your words being to slur together. “So big.”

Matt tunes into your body, listening to how the blood rushes through your veins down to where your bodies join together and your heart races. He knows you’re not going to last much longer.

“Angel,” he pants. “Angel, it’s okay.”

“Matt!” you cry, your voice curving up in pitch. You’re so close, he can taste it—and it drives him wild.

“I know, angel, I know. You’re gonna feel so g—fuck, that’s nice. So good for me.”

“Matt, I—.”

“‘M right here,” he assures with a kiss. “Right here. Let go for me, angel. Let me hear you.”

With a few more thrusts, an intense pleasure rips through your body, unlike anything you have felt before, and far better than what you’ve ever experienced. Your hips buck up to meet Matt’s while your legs latch onto his waist. Matt up above you is the only thing keeping you from thrashing around in euphoria. You hold onto him for dear life, your hands mussing his hair as he buries his face in your neck, moaning as he chases his own release and spills into you. He forces his hips to keep moving fast as he cums, desperate to make sure that your first orgasm is memorable, that the tremors ripple through your body long after it has past, even if it means the sensations verge on too much for him. Only once he feels you start to loosen up and your breathing begin to relax does he pull out, pressing kisses into your skin all the while his hands caress your shaking body. He hears your head roll to the side to face him as he lies down next to you.

“Matt,” you breathe, and he can hear the blissed out smile spreading across your face as you curl your body into his.

“You alright, angel?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Amazing,” you sigh softly.

“I’m gonna go get some things to clean you up, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You hum a confirmation as Matt gives you another kiss, carefully rolling out of bed and through the loft. He returns quickly with a warm damp towel, some water, and a pack of grapes. Putting the glasses down on the nightstand, he sits on his knees, pressing gentle kisses into the skin of your stomach, hips, and thighs.

“Can you open your legs for me, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

“I don’t think I can do more,” you breathe dreamily.

Matt chuckles, absolutely beaming at your happy disposition in his bed. “We’ll get you there eventually, sweetheart. But I want to clean you up. I’m gonna move your knee, okay?”

You oblige with his request, a soft moan falling from your lips as you spread wide for him, the delightful soreness reminding you of how perfectly his body fit with yours. “That’s it,” he whispers as he helps gently guide your leg open. “That’s my girl.” Matt is careful with his wipes, sprinkling kisses here and there as little reassurances. He’s extra careful when he gets to your core, knowing all too well how sensitive you must be. When he’s finished, he tosses it to the side and leans up over you to kiss you.

“Can you sit up for me now and drink some water?” he whispers into your cheek before stamping another kiss to your skin.

You do as he asks without another word and he hands you the glass, a gentle arm around your shoulders as you hydrate. “Can I get you anything else, angel? Do you want a snack? I can give you a little massage, if you want.”

“I’m okay,” you tell him, your mind beginning to reorient itself as you snuggle into his body. “That was . . . I don’t even know.”

“I hope it was a good ‘I don’t even know’,” he smirks.

“The best ‘I don’t even know’,” you chuckle. “I, um . . .” You blush deeply before you mutter, “Thank you for being my first.”

Matt notices the skip in your heartbeat, the shy and scared tone of your voice, and the salty tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks.

You’re embarrassed—ashamed, even. Why?

Matt pushes your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at his face.

“Thank you for giving me the honor. For trusting me,” he whispers, placing a light kiss on the apple of your cheek. “This is something important. Personal.”

“You don’t think . . . I mean, I . . .” you start, unsure of how to even form the question you were thinking.

“Not too many people are like you, (Y/N)—pure like you in everything that you do. I’m glad you were able to trust me with this.” Your wrap an arm around him and turn your face into his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else tonight with anyone else.” He kisses your temple. “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow,” he whispers in your hair. “Let me date you. Because I don’t want this to be it between us.”

That sentence makes you tilt your head up, amazed how he’s facing you with nothing but utter adoration. “I told you you weren’t a fling. I want the chance to show you how happy you make me, how you make me feel. Please?”

A bright smile pulls at your lips, a new wave of energy washing over you. You pull your body up, having your lips meet his, rolling on top of him. You gingerly straddle his hips with your legs, kissing him passionately as he reciprocates with just as much emotion.

“Can I take that as a yes, or?” Matt chuckles, a deep red blush speckling his fair complexion as you carefully place your body weight on his lap.

“Yes,” you hum, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth before moving back in and slipping your tongue in his mouth like he did to you earlier.

“Mm, angel,” he murmurs against your lips, and you feel something begin to press against your thigh, Matt’s strong hands moving up your waist as his thumbs brush the sides of your breasts. Your heart swells with excitement and your face flushes with heat, a tingly buzz in your lower abdomen. If you thought Matt was intoxicating just by sitting at his desk doing legal work, you are simply drunk on him with his body below you like this.

“How about we test my stamina?” you sigh between kisses.

Matt smiles brightly and kisses you with urgency, understanding that tonight will probably go longer than he initially anticipated. Even in your desire to do something so sinful, you still remain so pure.

And you’re all his.

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

1K notes · View notes

wildblue2020 · 3 months

Text

Brozone: Getting their S/O to sleep🌙headcannons

John Dory 🐶

You both spent the day together in Rhonda, adventuring

By the time night falls he's expecting you to be in bed waiting for him so he can cuddle you

If you're not, then he'll do one of two things depending on what you're doing

First, he'll whine for you to come to bed

Which annoys the living heck out of you but internally you find it cute cause he's like a whiney little puppy

"BAAAAABE COME TO BED!!! I WANNA CUDDLEEE!!!"

"In a minute hun!"

"A MINUTE IS FOREVER, COME TO BEEEEED!"

The whining will go on for at least a half hour or even longer

Then there's the second option

He comes out of the bedroom to find you

And as soon as he sees you, he's picking you up, hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you to the bedroom

You probably should've known this was gonna happen but you were too busy squirming and hitting his back

"JOHN DORY!! IF YOU DON'T PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW-"

Before you could finish yelling, he had you pinned on the bed

Narrowing his eyes down at you

He then lays down on you, little spoon position, and grips your hips the way he does in the morning refusing to let you go and whines like an excited puppy

You giggle and kiss him on the forehead taking off his goggles and setting them aside on the nightstand

"I love you." "I love you too, hun."

Spruce/Bruce 🌹

It was closing night at the restaurant

You were in the kitchen doing dishes for the night since you were on dish duty

Until your boyfriend swoops in calling your name

"Y/NN my lovee!!"

At first, he tries to convince you that someone else can do the night chores

Just to get you to sleep or cuddle with him before you both really have to sleep

"Not right now sweetie, I gotta finish these dishes tonight so we have enough for tomorrow."

"My love, you've done enough already the rest can wait until the morning!"

"I'm coming to bed sweetie, I promise. Just give me a minute."

But as soon as you let out a yawn his hands start to trail around your waist/hips circling it with his fingers making your body slightly jolt

"Come on my love~ It’s time for bed~"

When you say his name sternly, he doesn't stop there

He's now whispering sweet nothings into your ear just to test you...

"But I miss you when you’re not by my side~”

"Are you sure you want to keep doing dishes when you could be in my bed right now~?"

When you turn around to face him and scold him, he's giving you that innocent dad smile

You reluctantly sigh giving in

When you two finally are in bed, he assures that Brandi can finish the dishes in the morning

If he's also feeling seducing enough, then you two will kiss before falling asleep in each other's arms

Clay 📗

This is most likely to happen when you're working on paperwork for too long

You're normally stressed out by the time night falls

Putt Putt Village is a lot of work to run after all

As soon as he sees you, he'll come up behind you and give you a kiss on the cheek making you let out a giggle

"Hiiii baby!"

"Hi sweetheart, I’ll come to bed in a minute. Just gonna get these last two papers out of the way”

"It can wait until tomorrow you need rest."

You politely decline assuring him it was okay and that you'll go to sleep as soon as you are done

Clay wasn't having that

His hand is now on your thigh rubbing it and his breath is on the nape of your neck making your cheeks go red

"You're coming to bed." He’ll say in that petty voice of his

When you tried to protest again, he is now kissing your nape making you go redder in the face

He takes this chance to take the pen out of your hand without his lips leaving your nape that are now travelling down to your shoulder

"C-Clay!"

"I’m not stopping until you come to bed."

"Clay! I still gotta-"

He abruptly stops and spins the chair you're sitting in so you could face him fully as he puts his hands on the desk trapping you in between his arms narrowing his eyes at you

"You're coming to bed."

"Okay Clay okay. You win." You mutter defeated/flustered

By the time the door to his admin office/bedroom is shut, Clay is scooping you up onto the bed and kissing you to sleep

"You're so petty, you know that?" You grumbled

"Well do you know, you love it~?" He smirked

"Yeah... I do" You stifle a giggle before you both cuddle to sleep

Floyd 🩷

Because of Floyd being the sweetest of all sweethearts wouldn't mind up staying up late with you for a little while

Most likely scrapbooking or late-night talks

But until that yawn escapes your lips, he looks at you with that meaning it was time to go to sleep

"Is someone getting tired~?"

"Pfft no, it was just a yawn." Then you'd continue scrapbooking

"Yeah, that means you're tired~"

"I have no idea what you're talking about..."

But just when you think you are off the hook, he suddenly catches you off guard taking the scrapbook out of your hands and kisses you on the lips

He looks at you with that smug and ILLEGAL cute look on his face

"Come on sunshine, let's go to sleep."

"Floyd it's fine I'm not tired-"

He kissed you again

"Floyd-"

Another kiss

The more you try to talk, the more he kisses you and then it leads to play wrestling with you trying to make him stop until you give in

"Okay okay you win!"

"Does that mean you're going to sleep with me now~?"

"Yes."

"Good."

When you both get in his room, he may want to kiss a little more before going to sleep

And who are you to say no?

#dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls 3 #brozone #john dory trolls #trolls clay #trolls spruce #trolls floyd #trolls bruce #headcanon #fluff

41 notes · View notes

imkillerbae · 9 months

Text

In the Inbetween (Valorant Yoru x Reader)

Chapter 2: The Best Among The Rest

Summary: You meet with Brimstone and Sage to discuss your training, and then gossip with the youngins.

Masterlist

“How was sleep? I expect you all to always get at least 8 hours of sleep a night.”

Brim doesn’t look up from the paperwork he was working on as you stood in front of his desk, Sage behind you offering comfort. “I slept fine. I met some of the agents yesterday, you didn’t tell me that there were so many of us,” you chuckle, looking around the drab colored room. Most of the HQ were grays and whites, lights of yellow and blue. You’d think that Brim’s office would be more high tech, and yet here he was, playing an MTV recording on the VCR.

“I thought it’d be a pleasant surprise. And how was cleaning your room out?”

“Fun actually. I know that I wasn’t allowed to receive help but Gekko insisted.”

“Yeah, that kid knows how to hang around with people.”

For a moment, there was silence, and your nervousness hung in the air. The only sound you could hear were the vents humming in all directions, and the friction between Brim’s pen against cotton paper. It felt like an eternity passed before he spoke again.

“I’m glad you got to meet some of the others, kid. Which makes it easier for you to be trained.”

“Training?” You gulp nervously, and he gives a small smile. “You don’t wanna get shot as soon as you drop off the Vulture right? You’ve probably never even touched a gun before. I’m not sending you out there unprepared.” He looks at you solemnly for a moment, but turns to Sage before you could say anything about it. “Which agents are available right now?”

“Cypher agreed to train her on info gathering, and Skye said she would be back in no time to train her for her role. Chamber on the other hand cannot come back on time. I asked Phoenix to sub for him,” Sage informs, and Brimstone grimaces. “Phoenix? No offense to the kid but the only thing he’ll teach her is how to be insubordinate and not listen to briefings. Is Harbor not available?” Sage nods her head as an answer. “And so is Sova. There is one person available, but I do not know if he will agree to train her.” She says wearily.

“Which is?”

“Yoru. Checking our stats, he is our best performing agent. Yoru has the best KDA in the whole protocol, even higher than that of Chamber.”

“That’s because he charges into sites without consulting the team. KDA doesn’t mean anything when you’re willing to endanger yourself for it. Are you forgetting the past situation in Quatar?”

“I understand. But I am only suggesting him as one option. I cannot deny it. What he has in talent, he lacks in communication.”

“And I don’t think he’ll be open to teaching anytime soon. The last time we asked him to teach Gekko, he completely stood him up. I swear if he wasn’t so talented, I’d take his ego down a notch by suspending him. Can’t you teach?”

“I do not think I am skilled enough for the task.”

“Sage, you are completely capable.”

“I say it with respect to the stats and the other agents, Brimstone. Perhaps you could reconsider with Phoenix?”

Brimstone sighs. “I guess it can’t be helped. As much as I hate to admit it, Phoenix is one of our best.”

Sage chuckles. “I do not think he needs to be reminded.”

You only stood there quietly, listening to them talk to each other as if you weren’t there. “Who’s Yoru?” you asked after they were done, and Brimstone only shakes his head, as if disappointed. “Not a shocker that you haven’t met him. He’s not cordial with new people.” You instantly remember the man in the rooftop, and how rude he was.

“By any chance, does he have the middle of his hair dyed blue?” You ask curiously, and Sage nods. “Yes. Have you met?” You give her a sour look, then nod hesitantly. “Yeah, and it wasn’t a good first meeting. He was so rude,” you groaned, but said sorry. You remembered that you had to be professional. “As expected. He’s not the friendliest one here.” Brimstone sighed, but Sage puts a hand on your shoulder. “Not to worry. Yoru is only like this in the beginning. He will get used to you soon, and so will you with him.”

After a little more briefing, they eventually let you go. You spent the entire day fixing your room up and after the meeting, it was already late. Time flew by so fast, you barely kept up with it. “Aye, there’s the rookie! Nice pajamas. Purple is good on you,” you hear Phoenix say, his hands on his pockets. Behind him was Gekko who waved at you. “Where are you going?” He asks, and you shrug. “Nowhere really. Thought I’d walk around again. I heard that you’ll be teaching me battle sense? Whatever that means,” you ask, and Phoenix laughs. “Yeah! Don’t worry, I like to put on a show. I am the best at this, right Gekko?”

“Oh, uh, yeah man,” Gekko shrugs, but then smiles at you. “Wanna join us? We’ll be chilling at Neon’s room. She brought back some snacks from her country. Don’t tell Brim.” He puts his hands together in mock prayer, and you tilt your head curiously. “Is it not allowed to go to each other’s rooms?” You ask, and Gekko shakes his head. “Nah, but it’s kinda like, discouraged. But a little bonding won’t hurt anybody,” he smiles, wiggling his brows while Phoenix elbowed him. “First week, and we’re already bad influences.”

“What?! You can’t take the moral high ground now man,” Gekko gasps, and Phoenix chortles. You smile at their banter. “Well, if that’s the case, then sure. I’m dying of boredom anyways. Are you sure they’re fine with me being there?” You put on your slippers and they both smile. “That’s why we’re here, to drag you there for them. The girls wanna have a talk with you,” Gekko shrugs.

----

“So how was the first few days?” Jett asks, lying on the bed with her head hanging upside down as she ate peanuts in small packets. “Great actually, there’s so many of us! Still can’t wrap my head around it,” you sighed, crosslegged on the floor next to Gekko and Neon. You were eating some type of orange tube that was salty and cheesy. You forgot what it was called.

“Any more of the uhm… what were those? The crunchy stuff.” Phoenix reaches for Neon’s bag, but she hits his hand before he can take anything. “Chicharon? Nope, saving those for Yoru. He requested for those.” With that, you hear Phoenix groan in response. “Just open it and let me have a piece. He won’t even notice! I swear,” he reasons, trying to reach for it again.

“Ew! That’s so gross Phoenix. And didn’t you have a whole container to yourself already?”

“Bro, we’ve already went to an onsen together. I don’t think my best friend will mind.”

“I didn’t need to know that. Here, have Nips instead,” Neon grimaces, smacking his hand away. “Not the bootleg mnm’s,” he groans again, and Jett giggles. You couldn’t help but wince at the mention of Yoru again. “You guys are friends with him?” You ask, and they all look at you.

“Who?” Gekko asks, and you frown a bit. “Yoru, you’re friends with him?” You answer, and then they look at each other, then back at you. “Yeah. Why ask?” Neon tilts her head curiously, and you shudder at their gaze. “Uh, nothing. I kinda ran into him last time, and he was… well… he was not very friendly.” You shrugged, and Phoenix smiles, as if expecting your comment. “Can attest to that statement. That guy is pricklier than a porcupine. But don’t let him get to you, he’s really just like that with new people. I swear he’s not all bad.”

“Didn’t he stood Gekko up? When he was asked to train him?” You denied, and it was Gekko’s turn to smile and shrug. “Well, yeah, that’s because he got frustrated with me. Not gonna lie though, I was pretty bad. Yoru’s that type of person who expects people to already know what they’re doing. High standards and all that. How’d you know about this?”

“Brimstone and Sage talked to me about being trained. They were choosing between Phoenix and Yoru to train me on game sense and aim since no one was available.” You answer, and Jett chuckles. “If game sense and aim is what you need, they should’ve asked me instead. I’ve got better aim than these two idiots,” she sighs dreamily, and you smile. It would’ve been nice to have her teach you. She was a cool girl.

“You’re stuck with Phoenix. What are you gonna teach? How reveal yourself to the enemy?” Neon chuckles, and Phoenix returns the laugh. “Hah, ya’ll are forgetting I’m third in our stat recordings. I’m not too far behind.” He grumbles, feigning annoyance.

“But for real though, Yoru’s cool. He was rude to me too when I first got here but we’re chill now. I think he’s just shy, so he tries his best not to show it. He has a bit of an ego, you see.” Gekko shrugs, and Jett chuckles again. “Yeah, why do you think he and Phoenix are best friends? Massive egos can’t fit into their small brains.”

“I can assure you that’s not the only thing massive about me,” you see Phoenix wink, and Jett chokes on her peanuts. Neon and Gekko both groan, and you can only giggle. They were so cute together. You watched them bond, listening to their stories and all the gossip they collected. You learned that they suspected Sova and Sage had a thing going on, that you shouldn’t fall for Chamber’s charms because he flirts with everyone, how they didn’t agree with Deadlock’s hate for radiovores because in a way, it kinda meant she hated radiants, that Astra has a boyfriend outside of the protocol, and so much more.

It felt like you were back in college, just having fun and talking about anything and everything. Seeing them banter and have fun made your heart feel full. They made you forget that you had training starting tomorrow.

#valorant yoru #yoru x reader #valorant yoru x reader #valorant imagines #valorant #valorant headcanons #valorant yoru imagines #valorant yoru oneshot #valorant oneshots #valorant oneshot #yoru #fanfiction #valorant fanfiction

53 notes · View notes

fantasy-relax · 4 months

Text

Dimisisters

Only one romantic relationship for route/timeline the other will be friendship. Except for the poligamy route.

Starting to work you (Ozzy) are told their truly identities, so you do your best to keep your distance but they are not having any of that.

"Lady Bela" "Bela is enough" "but" "are you contradicting me, dear?" "No, Bela"

"Lady Cassandra" "..." "Lady Cassandra?" "..." "... Cassandra" "what do you need, handsome?"

"Lady Daniela" "no, Daniela just Daniela" " my lady I don't think I sh-" " did you don't want to be my friend, why are you so distant? Did, I did I something?" " No, no, please not cry, I'm sorry Dani I'm sorry"

The route that you enter depends on the area were you chose to rest after playing with the children.

Bela

Walking around the house you found the greenhouse, a quiet place were you can relax and write in peace disconnected from this weird world. There is particular spot with a big table and a pretty comfortable chair, you sit there for a while, concentrate on your work you fail to notice the presence watching you, until books are in the table.

"Sorry this your place? I will be gone just give a moment."

"Stay, I don't mind it. What are you doing? "

Like that you and her get closer slowly, talking days after day about everything and anything.

The moment that she knows she is in love:

Her mothers were in dealing with some business, nothing that will take more than a week. Normally only one will be gone but there were matters than needed Mia attention. Alcina was worried but Bela insisted that she was capable of being the head of the house for a least a week, yes she was sixteen but she has been preparing herself for this since she was 10.

The duchess concede (she will breaking all the speed limits to come and go as fast possible) and give a review of everything she needs to do for the week, and that if she needs help send a letter to her or call her grandmother.

The first three days go well, in the fourth day there is a problem with the vineyard she deals with it in the same day but her paperwork grows, a lot. In the six day she is almost tearing her hair, she is in her office when somebody knocks, she dismiss them but the knocking continues she opens the door and found you with a tray of food (her favorite food) in your hands.

"Working with a empty stomach is the worst way to work"

"..."

"don't worry I don't cook it, I asked the chefs to do it, they are worried, your sisters too you know?"

She let you enter, you put the tray on the table and take a look at her work. Is nothing confidential just the more tedious and long paperwork, she needs to make lot calculations and estimations and review the plans for the next week.

"if you want I can help you with the calculations"

" Im capabl-"

"I know it, but sometimes delegate mindless work is the best option so you give the attention to the most important matters"

"...mother can do it alone"

" The Duchess have been dealing with this for years, I'm sure that at the start she was having a really hard time too.

"..."

"eat, I asked the maids to prepare a bath, after that you can keep working"

She sits in silence with her eyes on you, you are working slower than her but you are advancing.

After the bath she sits at your side, and review the work that you have done, is good so she let you be while she finally gets to the important matters. Is silent, jut the sound of rustling papers and the scratches of the pencil, but is comfortable is calming is... The same thing that her mom and mother do, you both keep working until everything is finished, before you leave you take a good look at her and without thinking too much hug her, with your hand at her waist and your face in her neck:

"if you need help, please call for me and will gladly come, I don't wish for you to fall ill"

She hugs yo back and nod silent, you let her go giving her a tired smile and leave; the door closes and that's when hits her, she wants this forever, you by her side, supporting her, caring for her and she will do the same for you, together forever.

She tells her sisters and they are happy for her but they will be more cautious of you, they need to know that you're safe: Cassandra will appoint someone to follow you, and Daniela will subtly interrogate you.

After they are sure that everything is good, they time that you pass with them they will be talking about the oldest sister:

Daniela tells you about how kind her big sister truly is, how she was the one to take care of Cass and her even if she was just a few minutes older, she acts with compassion to their loyal subjects but still keep her hand firm when needed, she is a good sister and she will be a good mother.

Cassandra will talk about her wisdom, how level headed she is, she may not have the same body strength as Cass but she knows how to fight like the time that she broke the nose of a alpha jerk that touch her, she is a perfect heir and will be a perfect leader.

"Bela will be a wonderful mate and wife don't you agree?"

I will post the others later. When the brain rot come back.

#resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #au #Omegaverse

33 notes · View notes

natsglorifiedsimp · 1 year

Note

Hi was wondering if u are taking requests for mama!nat or not? If so could you do one where has severe seizures but no one knows accept for Nat and are all really stressed and don’t know what to do so they call Nat is a rush and didn’t tell her anything other than she needs to get to the compound really quickly and then she helps reader come down from her seizure. If u don’t wanna do it I understand 😊

Is she possessed?

Haha, I took too long to finish this🙂 I'm considering stopping writing fics lmao but I'm sorry for taking long. I made some changes hehe I hope that's okay :>

Taglist: @youralphawolf72 @madelineleong @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @lissaaaa145 @fxckmiup @mmmmokdok @sayah13 @karmasgxrl @meurgen @simp-erformarvelwomen @lilaswidowspark @snowdrop1026 @ravensinthedaylight @karsonromanoff @aesthelicca

One would say ‘school is easy’ or ‘it's the easiest part of life’ but in your case, it isn't. You have been swamped with different assessments that you have to get done because of unreasonably short deadlines.

Sleep wasn't an option, to say the least you don't have a work-life balance.

You always struggled with academic validation. That along with the pressure of being Natasha's daughter, made you always strive hard to be able to get an A+. You wondered how your mother always does so well on her mission, and wits to solve something that always mesmerized you. The invisible comparison you made between yourself and her as well as the thoughts going on in your mind drives you. Especially during late nights with the substantial amount of cups of coffee you drank just to stay up and be able to finish an assessment.

Today you finished a project you've been working on for weeks. Some part of you was finally relieved that you finally have a space for a rest and some ‘me time'. Even though you still had five homeworks to work on.

You went to the kitchen to grab some food and finally eat and bask in the chirping of the crickets when Tony decided to get in with piles of paperwork.

"Hi," he sheepishly said. You looked at him and the papers in his arms questionablyly. "Oh this? It's the paperwork I've been avoiding" he shrugged.

"I wish I could avoid my homework" you chuckled. "Glad I didn't" Tony hummed in response.

"What are you doing up anyway?" Tony asked. "Isnt it your bedtime?"

"Bedtime?" you deadpanned. "I'm not a child and I was just done with homework"

"Do you mind if you take half of these?" Tony sheepishly asked. You furrowed your eyebrows.

You wanted to say no but you feel bad about it. But if you say yes, you're gonna have a hard time finishing all your dues.

"I still have homework to do, Uncle Tony" you declined kindly.

"It's just half of it," Tony said taking the half from his stack of papers. "Here" he handed you the papers and you hesitantly looked at it.

"But-"

Before you could protest Tony was off running away from half of his duties.

"I don't even know how to do these" you sighed.

---

You didn't even know it was morning until Wanda decided to knock on your door and say breakfast was ready. If that was Sam he would say 'you look like shit'. Which was true, the bags under your eyes and the gloomy tired gaze you have. You're burnout.

You head down and eat what you wished you would eat fast. But even your hands won't cooperate. You ended up playing with the food instead of putting it in your mouth.

"Y/n, can you pass the salt? Please?" Steve asked.

"Y/n?"

You zoned out. You know what this means. You can feel it coming. It's like when you need to sneeze and you just know it's gonna come.

"Honey, are you alright?" Wanda asked.

Before you could fall to the ground Steve caught you. Your body was jerking uncontrollably your eyes were at the back of your head and you looked..

"What's happening?" Sam asked. "Is she possessed?" he asked panickily.

"Call Bruce"

"NO! CALL NAT!"

"SHE'S ON A MISSION"

"CALL 911"

"WE'RE AVENGERS?!"

"Who am I gonna call?" Peter confusingly asked.

"CALL BRUCE AND NAT!!"

---

You woke up in a different room. It was the medbay and you could hear the heated argument between your mom and maybe.. Steve or.. Was it Sam.

"We panicked, okay?" Sam argued.

"YOU PANICKED? YOU'VE BEEN ON A BATTLE FIELD AND EVERYTHING THATS MUCH SCARIER AND YOU PANICKED?" Nat shouted.

"Mom-"

"Y'all are an idiot! You could have killed my daughter! You didn't know basic first aid?" She ranted.

"Mom, tone it down" you whispered.

Natasha hurriedly looked at you. "Oh you're up" she sighed in relief. "I'm sorry you had to wake up hearing that" she carefully caressed your cheeks.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Mhm," you assured. "Just tired."

"You need rest, okay? I'll help you with your homework when you're all rest up."

"But-"

"No buts"

"Fine" you rolled your eyes. Your mom moved to get out of the room and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Where are you going?" you asked.

"Scolding Tony's ass" she replied casually.

"No no no no" you protest and it was the redhead's turn to furrow her eyebrows.

"I want you here" you patted the mattress and smiled knowingly. "I need mama cuddles"

"Fine," she feign exasperated.

#black widow #mcu #natasha marvel #natasha romonova #avengers #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha romanoffs daughter #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #mama nat #natasha's kid

354 notes · View notes

sunshine-sprats · 1 year

Text

is it wrong to pick up guys in an otome game?

↪ Summary: For someone with a boyfriend (who’s certainly not stewing in jealousy right now), you are awfully devoted to otome games.

↪ Characters: Kamisato Ayato, Albedo

↪ Notes: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort, modern AU

—

Kamisato Ayato

When it comes to dating Ayato, there needs to be a certain level of patience in order not to break up with him after a while. With the sheer amount of work he does, it’s inevitable that there are days where you don’t see each other at all. It was fine, maybe at the beginning, but the constant stream of unread messages and unanswered calls can be grating at times. Of course, you’ve voiced your concerns, but the piles of paperwork never seem to end for him.

Still, there is nothing to be done. You love him, and leaving him isn’t a viable option. But there are nights when the loneliness overwhelms you, leaving you to crave affection from a man who isn’t there.

So you download an otome game.

It’s a little strange at first. The gameplay was nothing like the other otome games you’ve seen so far—having to answer emails correctly, staying up late for chatrooms with the other love interest, and answering… calls. From the characters. You wonder if technology has gone too far when you hear someone speak on the other end.

The game grows on you. You manage to complete someone’s route and get a neutral ending, and yet you want more. The nights you spend on an empty bed no longer bothers you, and the sinking feeling of drifting apart from Ayato is forgotten. It’s as though you’ve never had a problem with it at all, cast aside for someone named 707.

Ayato finds out about it when he surprises you with a visit to the penthouse where both of you stay. One of his clients had canceled a meeting with him, letting him off work earlier than usual so he could surprise you. Affection tugs at his heart as he imagines your reaction, especially with how long you’ve been apart since a few weeks ago.

Instead of a hug or a kiss or both from you, he instead finds you in the corner of your dark bedroom, staring at your phone with expectant eyes. He wonders if you’ve messaged him, and if you’re waiting for a reply from him, but a baritone voice comes from your phone and his mind goes blank. The possibility of it being a video is immediately dismissed when you bring your phone up to your ear as though it was a call, and he notes your giddy smile and lovestruck eyes with a bitter taste.

This is what you’ve been up to, huh. Ayato’s gaze is trained on your form, never leaving, and he bites back a remark when you jolt in surprise the moment you see him. You throw your phone onto the bed without a second thought, scrambling to get close to him.

“Ayato! You’re, uh, back. Early. You’re back early. I didn’t expect that,” you manage to sputter out, almost slamming your hand against the wall as you switch the lights on. The disappointment in his eyes doesn’t escape you.

“Good evening, my dear,” he says with a terrifyingly firm voice. A dark look flashes over his face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Then, in a softer, more somber tone, he continues. “Is there something you should tell me?”

You’ve expected him to tease you about your newfound addiction to fictional men, but you don’t expect whatever this is. You make a little mental note, trying to think of what could’ve been the trigger to his attitude before remembering how Ayato must’ve been there to see you take Han Jumin’s call. A small ‘o’ forms as realization dawns on you.

“I may have downloaded a new game recently…”

“I see.”

Okay, well, he’s not going to get placated by that. You bite the inside of your cheek, hesitantly swiping your phone from the bed so you could fully show it to your boyfriend. The rest of Jumin’s call starts to play from where it left off, enveloping the room in his voice until it ends. Ayato stares at the screen in disbelief before sighing.

“Is this the sort of hobby you get into during your free time?” he asks. The question is sincere, not condescending, yet you can’t help but wince. You nod, deciding to show Ayato the other parts of the game some other time.

“Yes, but only because you’ve been so busy!” you say and puff your cheeks out in a pout. The expression breaks the tension between the two of you, and your boyfriend finally decides to relax and pat your head. “Ah, thinking about it, you and Jumin are kinda similar in that way. And probably a few other things as well.”

“Let’s talk about that some other time, shall we?” is all he says before capturing your lips in a kiss. And with it, you forget about the game and remember everything about Ayato again, letting yourself melt against him.

The moment lasts until your phone buzzes with a push notification from the game, saying something about an active chat room before the screen darkens again. Before you can do anything, you hear him speak.

“You won’t need that for the next few days, my love,” Ayato tells you, taking your phone from you and flinging it onto the bed. You don’t even get the chance to protest because he’s pressing his lips against yours again, one of his hands finding itself on your nape. When he breaks away from the kiss, he continues. “I’m here again.”

—

Albedo

The academia is a cruel place to immerse yourself in, one you’ve strayed away from the moment you could. You have no inkling as to why Albedo chose to stay as a researcher, even heading some projects of his own, but you support him nonetheless. You know from first-hand experience that it’s hard to balance a thesis and a love life.

Your boyfriend’s time at the laboratory bleeds into the evening, overlapping with your supposed free time that you couldn’t even spend with him. He hasn’t missed anything important yet, thankfully, though you know things could be better than the way they are now. By the time you have to get ready for your work, he’s already kissing you goodbye and out of the door in a minute.

You miss him. You miss the date nights and planned trips you used to do before he got promoted, and soon enough, even asking for the little things seemed like too much for the two of you. Breakfasts together, cuddling together, and or just existing together are now rare moments you cherish, despite the sour taste they leave in your mouth when he has to leave again.

And thus begins your otome game addiction. You downloaded multiple at once, unsure of which ones to play because you weren’t a big fan of visual novels—just hot people, apparently. One by one, you fall in love with the characters, playing through each of their routes religiously like some sort of madman. Once you’re done with the routes, you delete the game, only to download another one, and the cycle continues.

You accidentally spill about the games to Albedo over breakfast one weekend, the conversation naturally flowing towards what you were doing in your free time. The very moment you talk about “an ikemen with rugged looks” to which he raises an eyebrow, you know there’s no more hiding.

With a trembling hand, you look away from Albedo as you slide your phone over to him. God, it’s embarrassing to have filled a folder with these kinds of games, but he pores over the content and asks about the plot for each and every one of these games. To your dismay, you realize that they get weirder and weirder the longer you go on.

“Look, Albedo, they’re all vampires in this one,” you say. Your face is positively burning up at this point. “So no, being able to romance Mozart and van Gogh isn’t that odd, you know?”

Yes. Yes, it’s odd, but fortunately, Albedo is a kind soul and he only judges his colleagues’ methodologies and papers but not mass-produced otome games with similar plots. He nods along to your explanations, never passing up the chance to ask in-depth questions regarding the gameplay elements. You love this man.

“I must say, I do find some of the premises strange,” he concludes after you spend an hour explaining everything to him. The urge to crawl into a hole and die grows stronger with every word he speaks, but he hands your phone back to you with nothing but a smile on his face. “But I’m glad they keep you preoccupied when I’m away for too long.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. It may be embarrassing, but you actually find them fun and you’re happy Albedo hasn’t admonished you for playing them. Over time, you open up more about them to him, talking about plot holes and unavailable routes and whatnot. He lets you update him on story progression through chat, as though they’re a concrete part of your life.

What he doesn’t tell you is that he dislikes one certain topic about these games: the men.

Albedo can handle you talking about the plot, no matter how convoluted it is, or the otherwise boring gameplay loop that forces you to read only a few chapters a day. But when the conversation shifts into talking about the guys, an unfamiliar feeling washes over him and sinks into his stomach while you talk. You get so starry-eyed when you talk about them, and it makes him feel a bit unsettled.

He never voices out these concerns, because who is he to stop you from having fun especially when he’s not around that much anymore? He holds onto your passionate speeches and reactions, pushing the feeling aside for whenever he’s alone.

The straw that breaks the camel’s back happens when you’re spending some much-needed time together after he had drafted a particularly difficult research proposal. The two of you are on the couch, snuggling with each other and sharing kisses from time to time while a movie plays in the background. One of the kisses turns heated, and Albedo desperately reaches out for you before—

A buzz from your phone breaks the trance both of you are in, your eyes widening as you look toward the offending object. “Oh shoot, the daily reset,” you mumble, pulling away from your boyfriend’s arms. “I need to read the next chapter right now. I’ve been dying to know what happens to this guy…”

“Can that wait?” Albedo’s sharp tone draws your attention. The sheepish smile on your face falls when you notice how distraught and annoyed he looks. He must’ve caught onto the immediate change in the atmosphere because he sighs before speaking again. “Sorry, I’m just a little tense from work.”

The phone drops to the couch as you scoot over in favor of paying attention to him. “I’m sorry, that was by instinct,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you think of what to say. “I’ll put my phone away while you’re here, okay? I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together recently, so that was really insensitive of me.”

“No, it’s not that,” he says. “It’s… the men.”

“The men?” you repeat. Albedo shifted in his seat, but he never breaks eye contact with you while you struggle to process what he said. When the pieces of the puzzle come together, you spend a few moments with your mouth agape before continuing. “Albedo, were you jealous of the guys in the game?”

“Yes, I think so,” he answers so honestly that you can’t help but giggle. “I understand that it’s irrational for me to feel that way, but it’s the truth. My apologies.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say. “Whatever I said before is still true, but… Albedo, you know that you’re the only one I love, yes? And that some fictional men won’t ever change that?”

“Of course,” is all Albedo says before turning back to the movie, hints of red spotting his cheeks. Paired with his insistence to look away at anything but you, you might even think he’s embarrassed by all of this. “I’ll leave you to your game, then. Please excuse me.”

You do the complete opposite of his offer, latching onto his arm and never sparing your phone another glance. “As if I’ll do that when I have my real-life prince right here!” you say, cuddling closer to his body until it’s impossible to get any closer. “You’re still the best for me, you know. If you were a character, I’d play your route over and over again until the servers no longer work and the app kicks me out.”

“That’s very reassuring of you.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #albedo x reader #kamisato ayato #albedo #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

209 notes · View notes

threewaywithdelusion · 8 months

Text

RoyJamieKeeley Fic

Still working on my RoyJamieKeeley post-S3 fic. I got stuck again for a while, but I got unstuck tonight, so he's a little snippet to celebrate.

A few days later, Keeley and Jamie left for Brazil for Jamie’s Nike shoot. Left alone for a week, Roy tried to keep busy so he wouldn’t think about them. He spent time with Phoebe, who was starting to get impatient for summer holiday but could be convinced to spend all her wayward energy on playing football with Roy. He saw the yoga mums twice, once for actual yoga and once for a night of drinking wine, watching rom coms, and gossiping. He told them he’d gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend and they all smiled and told him how happy they were for him and how much more of a grump he’d been without her. Roy didn’t mention that said girlfriend was dating another man at the same time and told himself it was just leaving out unimportant information and not actually lie, but he wasn’t sure he believed himself.

Roy also had a meeting with Rebecca, who told him she wanted to promote him to manager of Richmond. He called her mad to her face and she still seemed to think giving him the job was a good idea.

“I don’t want to do press conferences and shit,” Roy said.

Rebecca was unfazed. “Here are my options, Roy. I can make you manager, which is a job I think you’ll be good at. You know football, you know these boys, and they trust you, which makes you the best fit. I can make Nate manager, which I don’t particularly want to do after he defected to West Ham last year. He has experience and the boys seem to have forgiven him, but I don’t trust him enough yet to give him that much power. The other option is to bring in someone from outside the club. Higgins gave me a list of candidates and a lot of them are very qualified and are interested in working for Richmond now that we placed second in the Premier League, because they think they can get us a trophy next year. However, anyone I bring in is going to have their own style and they’re going to undo all the hard work Ted’s done over the past three years. And what Ted did, however unconventional, has been working for us. So, if you don’t take the job, any thoughts on how I should proceed?”

Roy grunted. It was a good argument and Rebecca knew it.

Roy liked coaching Richmond. He didn’t really want to work with some new shitbag coach who would come in acting like he knew anything. Who might tell the team to stop playing total football or take that shitty, ripped-up “believe” sign off the wall. Who might not flip Jamie off in the middle of a game or push him to go back out even with an injured ankle. Who might not support Sam’s protests when they cost the club their main sponsor or might not like the fact that Colin had a boyfriend. Who might not defend Isaac in a post-game interview after Isaac attacked a fan in the stands for his homophobic comments or who would hear that famous women got their private photos leaked and react with less horror than the rest of the Richmond boys.

Roy liked the culture Ted had created at Richmond. Sure, his methods had been downright insane at times, but they’d worked. This was a team that respected Keeley and Rebecca, that accepted Colin, and that tried to be good people as much as they tried to be good footballers.

Roy didn’t want to lose that.

“Fuuuuck,” he said, a curse of resignation and realization.

Rebecca knew him far too well at this point, because she just smiled victoriously. “I’ll have Higgins send you the paperwork this week. We’re also going to be looking at player transfers, so I’ll send you tapes for anyone we’re considering. Do you have any thoughts about which players we should take a look at?”

Roy grunted. He’d had this job for all of three seconds and Rebecca was already giving him work. He hadn’t even told Keeley yet.

“We need a centre back with more speed,” he said.

“Noted,” Rebecca said.

On the way home, Roy felt a strange kind of loneliness take over him.

He’d gotten a promotion and even though he’d resisted it, he kind of wanted to celebrate. Like when Keeley had been made a CEO of her own company and they’d popped champagne and Roy had spun her around and they’d fallen into bed together.

But Keeley was halfway around the world with Jamie. On vacation, even though she’d refused to go on vacation with Roy to Marbella last year. And Roy knew it was different — this was a work trip with some fun thrown in — but Keeley was just restarting her business with Rebecca as the main investor and she couldn’t possibly be less busy than she’d been last year.

A tiny, mean voice in Roy’s head said that the difference was Jamie. That Roy hadn’t been worth the time away from the office, but Jamie was.

Roy shoved the thought away.

He went home to his big empty house and stared at the bottle of champagne in the fridge. He couldn’t tell the yoga mums he’d been promoted because they still believed he was an accountant and he had no fucking clue what accountants did or what the fuck their position was when they got promoted. Plus, he didn’t want to spend all evening lying about the job he was celebrating.

The team was scattered around the world, visiting their home countries and families while they were on summer holiday. What other friends did Roy have? Keeley, who was his girlfriend again? Jamie, who was Keeley’s other boyfriend and was also not in the country? Rebecca, who was more his friend through the transitive property than anything and was also his boss?

Fuck this.

Roy took the bottle from the fridge. He was about to pop the cork and drink straight from the bottle when his phone dinged with an incoming message.

It was a series of photos from Keeley, showing her and Jamie shopping. One photo showed Keeley in a dressing room, trying on a dress that made her look fucking amazing. Another showed Jamie with about fifty bags dangling from his arms, posing like he was lifting weights. Keeley was standing beside him, holding one tiny bag, and grinning widely at having a fit footballer to play her pack mile. Then there was a picture of Keeley standing next to a suitcase with a price tag on it, presumably something she was buying to bring all her new clothes back to England, a cute guilty smile on her face. The last picture showed the two of them in a store, both wearing black leather jackets. The one on Keeley was ridiculously oversized and the comical frowns on both of their faces told Roy that they were dressing up as him.

Another text arrived from Keeley.

Miss you! Do you want either of these jackets?

Roy was very picky about his leather jackets, something that Keeley had learned early in their first go at a relationship when she’d tried to buy him a present. It may seem like Roy put no effort into his all-black look, but he was very particular about what clothes he thought was worth buying.

It was sweet of Keeley to ask.

Send a video, Roy texted back.

A minute later, his phone dinged. The video was of Keeley in a dressing room, wearing a shimmery grey dress with one of the Roy-sized leather jackets over it. Roy had clearly interrupted her in the middle of trying on half the store because there were clothes over every inch of the dressing room. Keeley did a little spin for the camera and Roy caught Jamie’s reflection in the dressing room mirror, smiling at Keeley like he was in love.

Fuck.

Would Roy have had that indulgent, lovestruck expression on his face if Keeley had dragged him shopping for stupid graffiti clothes for Jamie? This was Jamie’s holiday with Keeley and she was still taking the time to message Roy and Jamie didn’t seem to mind at all.

Roy’s phone dinged again, this time a message from Jamie. It was another video, showing Jamie walking along a wall of all-black clothes, including at least four different leather jackets.

“I think we found your store, mate,” Jamie said, panning the camera so Roy could see the words John John lit up in the back over the counter.

Fuck. Roy was being a sorry sad sack and a bit of a prick. And he absolutely refused to be the biggest prick in a relationship that included Jamie Tartt.

You look beautiful, he sent Keeley. I like the jacket Jamie was wearing.

Keeley sent back a series of smiley face emojis.

Roy called her and she picked up on the second ring. “Hi, babe? How’s London?”

“I miss you,” Roy said. It was probably the easiest thing he’d ever said. Usually, Roy had trouble expressing any emotion that wasn’t anger and he knew that. But missing Keeley was all-consuming. It was a physical ache inside him, just as real as the pain from his knee, and he didn’t know how not to say it.

“I miss you too,” Keeley said.

“How’s Brazil?” Roy asked.

“It’s good! I think the photoshoot with Nike went really well. They might offer Jamie a larger deal as a brand ambassador when we get back, but don’t tell Jamie that. I’m negotiating right now and I’m not sure it’ll go through.”

“I’m sure it well,” Roy said. “You’re a brilliant negotiator.”

“You’ve never seen me negotiate,” Keeley said.

“Sure I have,” Roy said. “What about that time you convinced me to try being a pundit.”

“That was in your best interest, and I’m pretty sure we were arguing.”

“Or that time you convinced me to go to that launch party for that watch company you were promoting.”

“You have to admit, that was great press,” Keeley said. “Everyone’d heard the story about your ex stealing your Rolex, so you replacing the Rolex with a John Hubert watch really connected the two brands in everyone’s minds.”

“Well what about the time you convinced me to both cook and do the dishes when I made you a fancy dinner?”

“I bribed you with blowjobs,” Keeley said. “I don’t think I can use the same strategy here.”

Roy laughed. He felt so much better after talking to Keeley for just five minutes. Suddenly, he didn’t care that she was a continent away. He still wanted to tell her the good news.

“Is Jamie there?” he asked.

“He’s in his own dressing room,” Keeley said.

Roy was surprised. He figured Keeley and Jamie would take shopping as a chance to watch each other strip in the same dressing room. But he knew fuck all about shopping, so maybe it wasn’t that weird that they were in two different stalls.

“Can you get him?”

There was a long pause that Roy knew was Keeley working through her surprise before she said, “Yeah, just a sec.” Her voice sounded slightly farther away as she called “Jamie!”

A moment later Keeley’s voice came out sounding a little more robotic. “You’re on speaker, babe.”

Roy cleared his throat. “I talked to Rebecca today. She made me manager.”

“What?” Keeley said, sounding stunned.

Yeah, maybe he should have worked up to that instead of announcing it right out the gate.

“She gave me Ted’s job,” Roy repeated.

A whoop went up from Jamie, so loud that Roy had to pull the phone away from his head so he wouldn’t blow out his eardrums.

“Congrats, mate! That’s fucking mint.”

Roy grunted. He didn’t say that he was bricking it over trying to fill Ted’s shoes, but Keeley must have released because she said, “You’re going to be amazing, babe. I’m so proud of you!”

“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “I mean, mostly Roy’s been coaching me so far. I’ve got more talent than all the boys on the team and I’m a pleasure to coach, so you can’t measure Roy’s success by how brilliant a player I am.”

“You’re a fucking nightmare to coach,” Roy said, even though it wasn’t actually true. Jamie did anything Roy said, even when it was embarrassing or he was pushing his body beyond what most coaches would demand of him. Roy liked telling Jamie what to do and seeing how hard he would work to achieve the impossible, even when the only reward was a little grunt from Roy.

“I guess we’ll see if you can bring the other lads up to my level,” Jamie said, cockiness and disbelief in Roy’s coaching skills rolling together in his voice.

Weirdly, Jamie’s pestering filled Roy with confidence that he could do this. He would be the best damn manager Richmond had ever seen, if only to prove to Jamie that he was wrong.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Keeley told Jamie sweetly and that buoyed Roy the rest of the way up. Keeley believed in him. She believed in him enough to tell Jamie to suck it, even if she did it in nicer terms.

Roy wanted to tell her he loved her, but the first time he told her after they got back together couldn’t be over the phone, with Jamie listening in, while Keeley was on another continent.

Instead, Roy just said, “At least I know what the fucking offside rule is.”

Jamie and Keeley both laughed, though Jamie laughed harder. Roy wasn’t sure Keeley knew the offside rule, which was a travesty given how many footballers she’d dated.

“Well celebrate when I get back,” Keeley said. “That’s wonderful news, babe. I’m so happy for you.”

They said their goodbyes and when Roy hung up the phone, he felt a lot more determined and a lot less alone.

He checked his inbox to find an email from Higgins with his new contract and and some player files with stats and videos. Several promising young players were listed, as well as some old-timers on their way to retirement from some of the better clubs.

He poured himself a glass of champagne and settled in to do his job.

#royjamiekeeley #ted lasso #roy kent #Keeley jones #jamie tartt #mia writes fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

38 notes · View notes

hollandorks · 2 years

Text

shadows in the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter four

summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story

a/n: I’m finally back from vacation and rested up! I don’t go back to work until Tuesday, so I’m hoping to get a chunk of writing done...hopefully. Next chapter should be up either Monday or Tuesday!

If you’d like to support me further, click here for inforamtion on my ko-fi, including a link to donate! Any donation gets you a teaser for the next chapter!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3602

She let his quiet breathing soothe her until she too fell asleep, cradled in his arms.

Reader’s POV

Downstairs that evening, they had the remains of takeout spread between the three of them while Alfred and Bruce worked on the cipher. Y/n was working on paperwork for the Gotham Project, but was continuously being distracted by the chattering between the two men. They were huddled around a screen, debating various options for letters, running things through the computer program in hopes of figuring it out.

“What if it’s not a partial key?” Bruce finally said. There was a spark in his eyes–he’s gotten it, finally.

“What do you mean?” Alfred frowned at the screen.

“What if it’s the whole key?”

As they talk more, y/n wandered over, watching in surprise as the cipher on the screen slowly disappears until only one word is left.

DRIVE.

Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance.

“How did the killer know you were going to figure this out?” y/n wondered aloud.

Bruce ignored her, rushing over to where he kept spares of the underlayers of the suit, shamelessly shucking clothes as he went and dialing Gordon with his other hand.

“Bruce–” she said, willing him to wait, to slow down, to be careful.

“Meet me at Mitchell’s garage,” Bruce said into the phone as he tugged on his armored pants.

She sighed and moved to help him as he hung up.

“What if it’s a trap?” she asked. “What if–”

“I don’t think so,” Bruce said. “But Gordon will be there.”

Somehow, that didn’t make her feel much better. She finished helping him get the suit on and was startled when he kissed her, hard. He was practically glowing after having solved the riddle. She frowned. He was enjoying it too much. Like it was a game. Like someone hadn’t just been murdered.

“I’m going to suit up and watch,” she said. He gave her a sharp glance but nodded after a moment. “If anything happens…We need a safe word. Like butternut squash or something.”

Bruce laughed and grabbed the keys to the motorcycle. “How about oh shit, it’s a trap?”

She grinned. “That works too. Just as long as I know to come running.”

He brushed his lips over her forehead, then pulled the cowl on. “For some reason I have the urge to hide the keys.”

“I had copies made, don’t worry,” she reminded him. Alfred was watching them with a small smile, but there was still a furrow between his brows.

“Be careful,” Alfred said as Bruce swung his leg over.

The roar of the bike starting echoed through the vast space around them.

She and Alfred stood side by side, watching him go, both of them just as anxious as every other time he left for the night.

“Except this feels worse, doesn’t it?” she said out loud.

Alfred made a noise. “I don’t like the killer leaving cards and clues for Batman. I don’t like it one bit.”

They went back to the screen and watched through Bruce’s eyes as he flew down the tunnel and out into the night.

“I don’t either,” she muttered. “If he gets himself killed, I’m going to be so pissed off.”

She picked up the earpiece that was unofficially hers and put it in. “I just told Alfred that if you get yourself killed, I’m going to be very pissed off. In fact, you better haunt me so I can give you a nice long lecture for it in the afterlife.”

Bruce laughed, the sound muffled, and said, “Alright. I’ll come back as a ghost for you.”

He clicked off and the only noise came through the screen in front of them.

Alfred was watching y/n instead of the screen. “What?” she said a little defensively. “Someone has to lecture him.”

“I’m just reminded what a blessing to our lives you’ve been, is all,” Alfred said softly.

Y/n scoffed to cover the emotion that pierced her chest at the words. She bumped her shoulder into his. “Save it for your best man speech.”

“I’ll go make some tea.” When she opened her mouth, Alfred interrupted, “Yes, I know, coffee for you. Trust me, I don’t forget it. What kind of butler would I be?”

He winked and limped to the elevator. She put her suit on quickly, leaving off the hood and mask for the moment. She needed to be ready. Just in case.

Y/n sank into her office chair–a luxury she had let Bruce spend a little money on, but only because it was an excuse to upgrade his piece of shit chair into something with lumbar support–and watched Bruce weave through traffic on his way to the mayor’s garage.

Bruce and Gordon barely exchanged pleasantries before heading directly to the garage. She should have asked how Bruce had put it all together because now curiosity burned through her. She was not good at riddles. She understood that drive naturally pointed to cars, but he obviously had something else in mind.

“Guess it’s good to be the mayor,” Gordon scoffed as they stepped into the huge space. Y/n counted at least six cars as Bruce’s attention shifted around the room. She was glad he was vigilant, because she was able to check right along with him that the shadows held no hidden figures. Though someone could be hiding in one of the cars. “Where to even start? You sure this isn’t a leap? ‘Drive’ could mean anything.”

“You don’t trust me?” Bruce asked. Y/n snorted.

“You mean like you trust me? It’s been two years now, and I don’t even know who you are, man.” Gordon had a point. But it was for the best that he didn’t know.

God, she wished she was there. She missed being on a case with Bruce. Even over a year later, and she only had to come help at the last minute, and never on anything so big. As harrowing as their experience the year before had been, part of her missed it. She missed being involved in it, step by step, fighting as they went. Even if she sucked at riddles, she was sure she could be helpful in some way.

Even taking matters into her own hands, dealing with disgusting men like Derrick Smalls, wasn’t the same as working with Bruce on a case.

“There,” Bruce said, gaze landing on something sticking out of one of the tires.

Y/n made an unconscious noise as he pulled out some sort of bloody tool. Something that had definitely cut off Mitchell’s thumb.

They started searching the car. Bruce pulled out a black light. Y/n had to physically bite her tongue to keep from turning the earpiece on and telling him that he really didn’t want to be doing that. There was no telling what kind of bodily fluids he’d find in that car.

“What are we looking for?”

“A USB port.” Bruce opened the center console.

“USB?” Gordon asked skeptically.

Y/n made another noise. There was a whole fucking thumb attached to the USB drive. All of her desire to be there shriveled up at once.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked with disgust as Alfred stepped off the elevator, a steaming mug in each hand and his cane tucked under his arm.

“Thumb. Drive.” Bruce dangled the aforementioned thumb drive for Gordon to see.

“Oh, dear God,” Alfred said as he handed her the coffee and caught sight of the screen. “I’m glad we ate much earlier, because now I’ve no appetite.”

“This is…too much,” y/n said as Gordon got out his work laptop and plugged the thumb drive in.

“Jesus,” Gordon muttered. “It’s encrypted.”

“Try this,” Bruce said, holding up the thumb drive. Y/n could hear a note of mischief in his voice, only noticeable because she knew him so well. He was totally fucking with Gordon. Right?

Gordon was making a face. “Oh, this guy’s hilarious.”

But it worked. Bruce wasn’t fucking with him. Pictures appeared on the laptop screen, dozens of them, one after the other in quick succession.

Y/n sat bolt upright and nearly spilled her coffee.

The pictures were taken outside of the Iceberg Lounge.

Alfred didn’t notice her reaction, or the fact that she took out her phone and shot off a quick text to Lena.

“Oh, well, well, well,” Gordon said, “So much for family values.”

“Who is she?” Bruce asked. Y/n had no idea either–either this girl was just Mitchell’s date, or she had started working at the Iceberg Lounge in the past year or so after y/n had left.

Y/n had the feeling the girl worked downstairs at the club, though.

“Who took those pictures?” y/n asked Alfred. She would have to ask Bruce later–but she had a feeling it was already on his radar. He was a much better detective than she was, after all.

Alfred paid her no mind.

On the screen, Gordon was saying, “No idea. But that’s the Penguin, Carmine Falcone’s right hand.”

Bruce’s voice was tight with anger. “I know who he is.”

Y/n’s former employer. The man who had given her a loan for her mother’s medical bills. Bills that hadn’t mattered, in the end. The man y/n had been indebted to, for years. The man who’d had y/n beaten. The man who had let six girls disappear from his establishment. Seven, if y/n was counted.

Her fists clenched as the memories came rushing back. Anger roiled within her, hot and bright.

Alfred’s hand was warm on her shoulder. “Don’t go getting any ideas,” he said softly.

She shrugged him off. “I’m not. I don’t know that girl.”

But she’d already texted Lena.

On screen, a crisis was happening as Gordon’s work email sent the pictures to every single news outlet, newspaper, gossip magazine, and reporter within the city.

“That’s the Iceberg Lounge,” Gordon was saying when y/n focused again. “It’s under the Shoreline Lofts where Falcone was holed up. Never get in there without a warrant.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said.

“Oh no you don’t,” she muttered. She turned to Alfred. “He’s going to go straight there!”

Alfred sighed. “I don’t know how you stand watching him every night. I think my blood pressure is through the roof.”

“Are you not going to comment on what I just said?” she demanded. She crossed her arms tightly and spun her chair all the way around to face Alfred. “He’s going to–”

“Is it such a bad thing?” Alfred asked with a raised eyebrow.

She grit her teeth. “Considering how badly he’s always wanted to beat the shit out of the Penguin, probably.”

Alfred merely sipped his tea and said, “I’m going to bed. Let me know if anything happens.”

She threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

After Bruce left Gordon, y/n immediately used her earpiece to contact him.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she told him by way of hello. “I can text Lena and maybe–”

“We don’t even know if Lena knows her,” Bruce shot back. “It’s only a matter of time before a guy like this kills again. I’m going straight to the source.”

“Bruce, if you–”

“I’m just going to ask some questions.”

She knew what that meant. Fists first, questions later. He was like a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted, no matter what got in his way. Even if she showed up to the Iceberg Lounge, there was no stopping him.

And a tiny part of her–the part that wasn’t worried for Bruce–wouldn’t mind seeing him punch the Penguin in the face.

In the end, “Please be careful,” was all she said.

–

Bruce’s POV

At the first mention of the Penguin and the Iceberg Lounge, a haze of rage descended over Bruce, so thick that he almost couldn't see. His vision blurred, his heart thundered in his chest, and he had to fight to loosen his fists enough to get the key into the ignition on his motorcycle.

He hadn’t been back to the club since paying off y/n’s debts. That was more than a year ago now. She’d been in the hospital, recovering from a stab wound and–

He stopped the thoughts before they could spiral out of control. Y/n was fine now. She was healthy, and she somehow still loved him. Loved him enough to marry him, even.

That could be why he was so angry, he mused as he parked his bike around the block and got off. He stalked towards the front door of the club. He hadn’t been there as Batman in a long, long time either. The last time he’d been inside as Batman had been ages ago. He remembered patching her hand, how beautiful she’d looked in the harsh fluorescent light.

He was angry because this club–this goddamned club–was the source of so much pain and suffering for y/n that he wanted to burn it to the ground with everyone still inside. He wanted to hit the Penguin, over and over, replicate the wounds he’d given y/nn all those months ago when she’d agreed to start working downstairs at the club.

The rage intensified as the door to the club swung open.

A man he had never seen before opened the door, red light and loud music pouring forth.

“Know who I am?” he asked the bouncer.

“Yeah. I got an idea.”

“I want to see the Penguin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, pal.” The door swung closed again. The music cut off abruptly. Only a faint thumping could be heard through the thick metal. Bruce clenched his fists but waited. They would let him in. As soon as the word got to the Penguin, they would let him in. If not, well, he knew where the back door was.

The door opened again. A nearly identical man stood with the first. Twins?

“What’s the problem?” the second one asked.

The pair of them studied Bruce as the first one said, “Says he wants to see the Penguin.”

“Penguin? There’s no Penguin here.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him.” Both pair of eyes glittered with a dark sort of malice.

“Get out of here, freak. You hear me? Or that little suit’s gonna get all full of blood.”

Bruce was itching for a fight. These two might not have been around at the same time as y/n had been, but they still worked for that piece of shit the Penguin. “Mine or yours?” Bruce growled, and then his fists came up. He knocked them both down too easily. Some security measures they were.

Bruce stalked past them into the belly of the beast.

And he finally got his fight.

The lights flashed from white to red over and over, flaring to yellow right as the first guy managed to get his hands on Bruce. The music thumps steadily in time with his heartbeat.

Bruce remembers another night, another fight, another meeting with the Penguin.

Another missing girl.

A girl downstairs, working at the bar.

Bruce took each hit and relished the pain. This is what he’d wanted to do for a long time–he wanted to beat the shit out of any bastard involved even tangentially in what had happened to y/n over a year ago.

Each time his fist connected with someone, he bit back a smile.

A man hit him in the back of the head with a bat. Bruce yanked it from him and dispatched him easily.

Another man was there, gun drawn, telling him to put the bat down. The man was vaguely familiar, but Bruce didn’t have time to think about it. Right as the bat connected with the man’s face, the gun went off. Bruce winced. If y/n was watching, she would be mad that he was getting shot at. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, there was another gunshot, this one a blow to the back. One of the twins from earlier was above and behind him, holding a shotgun and looking as pissed off as Bruce felt. The other twin appeared.

The grappling hook took care of one of the twins. From his periphery, he saw someone else approaching. He whirled, fists raised, grappling hook raised like a gun.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” The man called the Penguin raised his hands as if in surrender. “Take it easy, sweetheart. You looking for me? I see you met the twins.” He looked Bruce up and down. “Boy, you’re everything they say, ain’t ya? I guess we both are. How you doing? I’m Oz.”

Bruce relaxed, but only marginally. Had the Penguin forgotten already that they had met? That Bruce had been sniffing around a year ago for information on the missing girls? Maybe it was for show–someone like the Penguin probably had other important things to worry about. Maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know they’d met before. That was likely it–after the events of the year before, there had been a lot of employee turnover in the Iceberg Lounge. And Penguin had an image to uphold, after all.

They were upstairs in the Penguin’s office now.

“We’ve met before,” Bruce said, unable to help himself. Alone with the Penguin, he can feel the rage beginning to boil over dangerously. But if he made a scene now, if he beat the Penguin within an inch of his life, he would never get information about this missing girl.

“I remember,” the Penguin said as he settled on his plush couch like he had no cares at all in the world. “You caused a lot of trouble for me last year. But I’ll forgive you. Mostly because you….created some new opportunities for me and my boss.” The Penguin’s eyes practically sparkled in his scarred face.

Opportunities. Bruce scoffed. When he and y/n and Gordon had taken down the mayor and all those others, it had created a power vacuum. One that Penguin and his boss were apparently trying to fill.

Bruce was about to open his mouth and warn the Penguin he’d be watching him, when the man spoke again. “Why are you here? Don’t tell me more of my girls have gone missing.”

Bruce handed over the photographs from the Mitchell’s killer’s thumb drive. “Who is she?”

Penguin dutifully studied the pictures. “I really don’t know, chief. I might have been coming out at the same time, but I wasn’t rolling with them.”

The sharp sound of heels against the floor were quickly approaching. Bruce tensed and froze.

It was one of the girls. She was dressed almost exactly as y/n had dressed in the days when she had worked there. Memories flashed through Bruce’s mind but he shoved them away. He didn’t have time for that right now.

The girl froze. He could see fear mingled with curiosity on her features. He stared evenly back at her. Maybe she would know something.

The Penguin glanced between them. “It’s okay, baby. Mr. Vengeance here, he don’t bite. Come on.”

The girl set a tray down in front of the Penguin. Desserts and a thick envelope.

“Thank you, honey.” Penguin took the envelope, checked the cash inside, and handed over a bunch of Drops to the girl. She disappeared back down the hallway.

Bruce’s mind swirled with possibilities. The Drops operation was supposed to have been shut down with the big Maroni case, months ago.

The Penguin stood and handed the pictures back to him “Here you go, champ.”

The anger found Bruce again. The Penguin had just sold Drops right in front of him. Jaw tight, he said, “I wanna know who she is, and what she has to do with this murder.”

“Whose murder?” He couldn’t tell if the Penguin was playing dumb or not.

“The mayor’s.”

“Is that the mayor? Oh, shit, it is. Look at that.” The Penguin was definitely playing dumb.

The rage within him crested on a wave. Between one blink and the next, Bruce slammed the Penguin against the glass window, cracking it. “Don’t make me hurt you.” Because he wanted to. The Penguin had no idea how badly Bruce wanted to hurt him. In his mind’s eye, a memory of y/n passed out on his kitchen floor flashed and was gone again.

“You better watch it. You know my reputation?”

Bruce pressed him harder into the cracked window. He imagined pushing until the Penguin fell through the glass into the screaming crowd below. “Yeah, I do. Do you?”

“Look…I’m just the proprietor, okay? I mean, what people do here ain’t got nothing to do with me.” Bruce caught sight of the girl from earlier watching him. He let Penguin go. “Tell you one thing. Whoever she is, she’s one hot chick. Why don’t you ask Mitchell’s wife? Maybe she knows.” At Bruce’s look of disgust, Penguin innocently asked, “What? Too soon?”

Bruce took another glance at the photo. Was that…?

“You let me know if there’s anything else I can do,” Penguin called as Bruce shoved past him.

Later, as he watched her change outfits and descend to the street below, things started clicking into place. The missing girl wasn’t missing–she was being hidden by the Penguin’s employee.

And rumors had been swirling around Gotham for a few months about another vigilante. A woman.

Bruce got back on his motorcycle to follow the now-disguised woman from her apartment.

He had a strong feeling that she knew something, and he was going to find out what.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@pop-rocks-and-skittles @calumspupils @n1ght5h4d3-24 @keepingitlokiii @11mb0 @illicitghosts @cat-purrsonified @blue-aconite @junggoku @ohheyitsrowan @angxlictexrs @glowexe @avengersgirllorianna @brynhildrmimi @takeyour-pants-off @twilightdollie @p-writes @lady-x-red @xingqiusliegee @scxrletwitches @justine-en @philiasoul @srryxmate @thecherrybombcom @minstens @call-me-nayo @cosmicbreathe @deadflowerd @iimawinchester @ventila98 @thecraziestcrayon @blossomedfloweroflove @dcgoddess @nautixa @wordsinwinters @leastlikelytoachieve @slutforblueeyes @pajerita19 @marvelsangels @leiaofthestars @lwtmonster91 @vellania @uncle-eggy @goldbvtton @angelsarecallin @rockagurl @zaminoo @saraallisonphylips @zzzvoid @moonyinthestars @wondergal2001 @livvvmp4 @lexydoodles @lauftivy @clarebear66 @marchingicenotes7 @hazel-light @eoz-stuff @moongarcia @normatural @plaidstiel-wormstache @tembo-ndoto @that-girl-named-alex @lokigoeschoki @johnmurphys-sass @moonlighttfoxx @earthgirl616 @acceptedbyace @sinkin7pm @vi0letblu3s

265 notes · View notes

whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 1 year

Text

A Weekend Away (Falk Maria Schlegel x Fem! Reader) - FLUFF/SMUT

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, MINORS DNI, MDNI, 18+, pnv sex, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex. Mostly fluff, mutual pining, Falk being a sweetheart

A/N: I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE!! This was a request I got a while ago from a wonderful anon who wanted some Powerwolf smut, IM HERE TO DELIVER!!

Prompt: "Every thought I have about you is improper

Thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/N)." You glanced up at your name being called from Attila's office.

"Coming." You respond, finishing the sentence you were writing before leaving your desk. You approached his desk where he was buried in paperwork like usual.

"I was supposed to be attending a conference with Father Falk this weekend, I'm going to need you to go in my place." He didn't bother to look up from the form he was filling out, a blessing on your end. He wouldn't be able to see your wide eyed, flustered gaze.

"Does, um… Is Father Falk aware of this?" He shook his head. "And the rest of the high clergy?"

"They all already have prior engagements." You nod. You stood there in silence for a moment, searching for any last ditch attempt at escaping. "What are you not telling me?" Now you were in trouble, he had a knack for knowing when you weren't being fully honest with him. Attila set his pen down, giving you his full, undivided attention. "Has Father Falk treated you poorly?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that." You should have just accepted his request and left. Attila always had a way of prying your deepest secrets out of you, and now was no different. Your best option was trying to skirt around the root of the problem until you could find a way to slink off. "Father Falk has never been anything but kind towards me. You've known him much longer than I have, I'm sure you're aware that he's a perfect gentleman." You chuckle awkwardly, a memory of Falk holding a door open for you flashed through your mind. His kind eyes, bright smile, and gentle voice. You felt yourself starting to sweat. You swallowed thickly, trying to force a smile into your face. Attila raised an eyebrow at you, noticing your flustered demeanor in an instant.

"I see." He gives you a knowing smirk. Shit. He waves you on, "if you have any questions about your duties this weekend I'm sure Falk will have no issue answering them for you." You nod, politely dismissing yourself. "Oh, and (Y/N)..." You freeze, "try and relax." He chuckles softly as you flit out the door. You made your way down to Falk's office, knuckles tentatively knocking against the door frame.

"Ah, (Y/N), what a pleasant surprise." He studies you for a moment under his kind gaze. You notice him glance at the clock on the wall. "I would like to warn you I do have to leave shortly, but what can I help you with, my dear?"

"Father Attila sent me, I guess I'm going in his place for the conference." You found yourself nervously swaying on your heels, far more focused on the floor than the man sitting in front of you.

"Oh good, I was worried I was going to end up going by myself." He chuckles softly. "Well, I suggest you bring formal attire, we usually get invited to a lot of dinners. We'll leave in about an hour." You hurried back to your room to pack, not wanting to keep him waiting. You sighed as you shrugged on your backpack, dragging your other suitcase behind you. You jumped back slightly as you opened the door, being greeted with the image of Falk standing there preparing to knock on your door.

“Oh God, am I late?” You ask frantically, checking the time.

“Not at all!” He rushes to reassure you, wildly waving his hands as if to brush off any remaining anxiety. “I just wanted to help with your bags, it’s a long walk down to the garage.” He chuckles, you feel your shoulders relax. He moves cautiously, not wanting to startle you any further. He takes your suitcase, the two of you walking in silence down the hallway. "Are you nervous?" He tries to break up the silence with a single question.

"A little." You chuckle. "Every time I've had to go to one of these conferences it's always been as a mediator. I'm sure you're well aware, but Father Attila has a tendency to be a bit abrasive." Falk laughs and nods.

"That's one way to put it." He glances over at you, eyes trailing over your frame for a moment. "I'm glad he asked you to go in his place, I couldn't have asked for better company." You blush, smiling down at the ground to hopefully hide your bashful expression.

"It'll be nice to spend some time with you as well, Father Falk." You loaded your bags into his car and set out on your way. You kept to yourself mostly during the ride there, you and Falk on friendly enough terms to be comfortable around him but you didn't have the slightest idea what to talk to him about. Everyone always marveled over the fact that you spoke with Attila effortlessly, they seem to neglect the fact that you had been his assistant for the better part of a decade in order to reach the level of comfortability the two of you had together. You reached for the radio, wanting at least something to break up the silence in the car. You jumped slightly as Falk's hand collided with yours. Your eyes snapped in his direction, worried he would be upset with you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Your voice trailed off at the sight of his gentle gaze studying your face

"Great minds think alike, huh?" He chuckles, motioning for you to continue. You hesitantly reached out for the radio, taking one final glance up at him to make sure it was really okay before selecting a station. You picked something you felt like you could mutually agree on before allowing yourself to sink back into the warm leather of the car. You noticed a puzzled expression cross his features, "this is what you normally listen to?" You shake your head with a giggle.

"No, but I won't make you suffer through my music." You joke.

"Well then, how am I supposed to learn anything about you?" He asks with a small smirk, the mischievous glint in his eye impossible to miss.

"You could always just ask me." You turned yourself slightly in your seat to face him. "I'm not that scary, am I?"

"Scary? No. Pretty enough to make me forget how to string a proper sentence together? Absolutely." You watched as his eyes widened slightly, the realization that he had just said that out loud rapidly setting in. "Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, I'm flattered that you think I'm pretty." You both sat in silence for a moment.

Falk cleared his throat, "so, are you more of a dog or a cat person?" You can't help but laugh at the question. You watch a smile creep across his lips, "what?"

"Nothing, I just didn't expect that to be the first question you asked me." You let your head lull to the side to look at him. You don't think you had ever seen him in casual clothes, and it was definitely a sight you could get used to. "I'd say I'm probably more of a dog person." He breathes out a laugh as he nods.

"Good answer." The two of you went back and forth asking questions for pretty much the whole car ride. You were honestly a bit shocked to discover just how much the two of you had in common. You pulled up to the inn you would be staying in, the car filled with the jovial sounds of laughter and excited conversations. "Father, welcome back." The plump old woman at the check in counter greets Falk with a bright smile.

"Happy to be back Esther." He motions to you. "This is Father Attila's assistant, (Y/N), she'll be staying with me this weekend." Esther looks between the two of you.

"Oh goodness. Well, I would just like to let you know that the room you booked for only had one bed." She grimaces slightly as she informs you.

"Are there any rooms available with two beds?" You noticed him pale slightly as she shook her head.

"Unfortunately we're in the height of tourist season right now, we're full up I'm afraid." She ponders over your options for a moment. "It looks like all of our cots are already in use as well… your room has a couch, maybe that's something? I'm incredibly sorry Father, I wish there was more than I could do. I'd be more than happy to give you a refund if you'd like to try booking elsewhere-"

"Nonsense, Esther, we've been coming here for years, we want to give you our business." He smiles warmly at her. "We'll work with the couch, don't worry." He pats the desk, trying his best to reassure her that it was fine. You lug your bags up to the room. It was surprisingly spacious for an inn; fresh white linens matched the curtains that billowed in the breeze of the open balcony door, a small seating area with a couch and two matching chairs occupied one corner of the room. You jumped slightly as Falk rested a hand on your shoulder, "you make yourself comfortable, I'll take the couch."

"Oh, Father, I can take the couch, it's really no problem." You could tell by the expression he was giving you that there was absolutely no changing his mind. "Are you really sure? You should be well rested for the conference."

"I'll be just fine." He gently pats your head with a smile as he walks past you. "And, (Y/N)?" You give him a hum of affirmation. "It's just Falk." He chuckles.

"Right," you grimaced slightly, remembering all the times he had tried to correct you out of using honorifics with him, "sorry." He smirks slightly as he sets up some of his work on the small table. You sit on the couch next to him, letting the warm air wash over you from the outside. "This place is really nice."

"We've been coming here for years, Esther used to attend our church actually. Not to mention, since it is tourist season for them, they set off fireworks on Friday's which we can see from our room." He breathes out a laugh at your excited expression, eyes studying your features for another moment. "Would it be alright if I took you out to dinner tonight?"

You nod, giving him a bashful smile. "I'd like that." After finishing up some paperwork the two of you got ready. Dressed in your finest formal attire Falk brought you to one of the nicest restaurants in town. It was beautiful, but the atmosphere felt stiff compared to what you were used to. You felt like everyone in the room could tell that you didn't come from a lavish background and it honestly made you feel a little self conscious. You set down your menu with a sigh, nervously fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. You glanced up only to see Falk peering over his glasses at you. He sets down his menu, stopping your waiter as he passes by. He explains that the two of you had gotten called away to handle an emergency so you would be giving up your table, tipping the man before motioning for you to follow him. You eye him curiously as the two of you leave the restaurant.

"It was a bit stuffy in there, don't you think?" A soft smile creeps its way across your lips as he offers you his arm. "I think I have a better idea." It was obvious that Falk new this town like the back of his hand, weaving through streets and across a park until the overly serious tone of the fancy part of town subsided, giving way to a beachfront paradise that was filled with laughter, pings and whirrs of the boardwalk arcade and the bright flashing lights of the midway that seemed to stretch out endlessly before you. "Come on, let's go have some fun." Your hand slipped into his effortlessly as the two of you darted off into the crowd. Your night was filled with fried food, sweet treats, and excellent company with Falk by your side. You couldn't help but laugh as he handed you over the biggest cloud of cotton candy you had ever seen.

"You know, you really didn't have to do all of this." You were drawn in by his soft gaze, having him look at you the way was, he made you feel like you were the only two people in the universe.

"I never get to do things like this with you, I want to make the most of it." Warm fingers brushed across your cheek, carefully readjusting some stray hair that had wandered into your face. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the sensation of his touch, undoubtedly a blushing mess before him. You continue down the midway, Falk chuckling at the sight of people staring at your vastly overdressed appearance. The two of you strolled to the end of the boardwalk, leaning on the rail to look over the ocean below. The moon skirted just above the horizon, the energetic sounds of the midway fading away to the quiet lapping of the waves against the posts. “I’m glad to see you’ve relaxed a little.” He smiles at you

“You’re very…” you pondered for a moment to think of the right word to use. “Easy to be around.” You shifted slightly, your hand brushing against his. He hooks his pinky with yours, both of you silently staring ahead in hopes the other wouldn’t notice your flustered expression.

“Can I tell you something?” You give him an affirming hum, hand slowly drifting on top of his, you carefully pushing your fingers through his. "Getting to spend today with you was… incredible.” He chuckles nervously, his breath shaky as he lets out. You smile, shifting closer to him.

“Falk?” You say his name softly, eliciting a hum from him. “I’m really happy I get to be here with you.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. He glances down at you, a tender fondness in his gaze. His eyes drift down to your lips, warm breath bouncing off your skin. You slowly straighten yourself up, lips barely out of reach of his own. Your eyes meet his once more, an almost expectant expression on your face. You wanted Falk to kiss you more than anything else, all of the small lingering touches and flirtatious comments over your time of knowing him building up an impeccable sense of want for the man that stood before you. He clears his throat, turning back to look out over the water, not wanting to accidentally take things too far. You shivered in the cool ocean breeze, goosebumps forming on your skin. A warm arm wraps itself around your shoulder.

“Come on, before you freeze.” He offers you a chuckle and a kind smile, allowing you to snuggle into his side as the two of you lazily made your way back to his car. The drive back to the inn was mostly silent, a slight sting in your chest as you thought about how you would have liked this night to play out. “I’m sorry if I made things awkward.” He states quietly, eyes focused on the road before him.

“You didn’t.” You tried to reassure him. “I had a really nice time today." You watch him hesitantly reach out, fingers trembling slightly as they ghost over your skin. You take his hand in yours, feeling his muscles relax at your touch.

“I meant what I said back there, I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun.” He swallowed thickly, forcing out a nervous chuckle “I’m sure you don’t remember the first day we met, but I haven’t been able to keep you out of my mind since that day.” You let out a chuckle, you remember that day well. You had just started as Attila’s assistant, a position you were beyond nervous to take on. You had gotten them both drinks while they were having a meeting in his office only for you to spill Falk’s drink all over him. You were too stunned and embarrassed to speak. You felt tears start to prick at your eyes, your mouth moving but no sounds seemed to be coming out. Falk laughed, standing up and giving you a soft pat on the top of your head. “Trust me, a little spilt water isn’t anything to fuss over.” The second your eyes met his, you were lost in them, warm brown irises stared back into yours with a gentleness you had never experienced first hand. He takes your hand, giving it a firm shake. “Falk." It took you a moment to find your voice.

“(Y/N)," you introduce yourself. Snapping yourself from your hypnotized state you started to panic all over again, "I am so sorry about this Father, would you like me to get you a towel?” He waves you off with a grin.

“Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll be alright.” You hadn’t forgotten his smile even years later, the same smile that was ghosting over his lips now. “You walked in wearing that cute little sundress you used to wear all the time, the one with the sunflowers all over it. I don’t know if you noticed but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you the second you walked in the room.” He chuckles.

“I was so embarrassed.” You hide your face in your hands, both of you struggling to contain your laughter. “I still haven’t lived that down." Your shoulder pressed against his as the two of you turned into the inn's parking lot. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You breathe out a laugh, "you were always so kind, even before we got to know each other… it's one of the things I like so much about you." The two of you shared a bashful grin before heading inside. You sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the plush comforter under your fingers as you watched Falk set up the couch for the night. "I really don't mind swapping with you." You state bluntly. He turns to you with a smile as he drops a pillow on one end of the couch.

"You know I'm not going to let you do that." He approaches you slowly, kneeling down in front of you so he can meet your eyes. "I'll be just fine, try and get some rest, we have a big day tomorrow." A warm hand cups your cheek, thumb languidly running over your skin. You nodded, giving him a soft smile before the two of you reluctantly part for the night. Your gaze drifted over to Falk, body haphazardly sprawled out, the sound of his quiet snoring filling the room, after hours of tossing and turning you finally noticed the welcomed heavy feeling of sleep settling behind your eyes. You drifted off into a dreamless sleep only to be awoken the next morning by the smell of coffee filling the room. You rolled over with a tired grumble, pushing your bed head haphazardly out of your face, keeping yourself buried in the bed's soft comforter. You rolled over to be met with the sight of Falk studying you, a gentle smile on his lips, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, two cups of coffee sat before him on the table next to his folded up newspaper.

"Mornin'." You mumble, still processing being awake.

"Good morning." Falk can't help but chuckle at your disheveled state. "I brought you some coffee. You looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you." He picks up both cups, sitting on the edge of the bed. You take the warm mug in your hands, locking eyes with Falk as you bring it to your lips. Your nose reflexively scrunched up at the taste. "Not enough sugar?" You shake your head, he chuckles. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He couldn't keep his eyes off you, his gaze held nothing short of pure adoration for the sight before him.

"How'd you sleep?" You set the mug on your nightstand, pulling your knees to your chest as you sit and talk with him.

"I slept just fine, the couch is surprisingly comfortable." He smiles despite the fact you knew he was lying. You could see the stiffness in his movements, the shifting of his position to try and subside the full ache in his body. He gently tilts your chin up with his index finger, "I know that look, I'm fine, I promise." You nod.

"You're staring." You point out with a grin.

"Sorry." He lets out a bashful chuckle. "I just can't get over how beautiful you look right now." You blushed, laughing quietly as your gaze fell to your lap. The two of you sat and drank your coffee, quietly discussing the day ahead events. "I can't even begin to tell you how insufferable this man is, but try to grin and bear it the best you can. We mainly do business with his son, unfortunately this time he has to come in his son's place." He explains about the meeting you were currently getting ready to attend.

"Falk, you know my job is just to sit there and look pretty." You tease, he chuckles.

"If I remember correctly you have quite the sharp tongue, Schatz." You catch his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. A slight smirk on his lips, he definitely wasn't wrong. It was fairly often that you would get chastised by father Attila for your blunt attitude and quick wit.

"I'll be on my best behavior." You smile, causing him to laugh. You hadn't expected that to be such a difficult promise to keep. You sat in the chair next to Falk, smiling through gritted teeth as the man on the opposing side of the desk cut off your train of thought for what must have been the tenth time in the last hour. You saw Falk’s eyes drift down to your hand, your pen about to crack in half you had such a tense grip on it. You hadn’t been able to get a single word in since the two of you arrived. You sat in the chair at Falk’s side, posture absolutely rigid as you struggled to hold your tongue. The three of you stood, Falk placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. The second you were out of earshot of the man you began to complain. “I’ll never understand why it’s a necessity that I go to these meetings when I won’t be able to get a word in edgewise.”

“I warned you he was going to be difficult.” Falk reminds you with a chuckle. You fell into the passenger seat with a groan, slumping down in the seat. “You did a great job.”

“I didn’t do anything.” You rebuttal.

“You didn’t need to. You simply needed to gain experience dealing with difficult clients, which you succeeded in doing.” You nodded, he did have a point. “I don’t know about you but I think we earned the rest of the night off.” He offers with a smirk. You found yourselves sitting across from each other on the bed in your room, eating chinese food straight out of the container, an amused expression on Falk’s face as he listened to you ramble on about nothing in particular, he just enjoyed listening to the sound of your voice.

“What’s that look for?” You question him with a smirk.

He shakes his head, “it’s nothing… it’s just nice watching you finally open up.” You look away with a flustered expression. It felt almost effortless to be around Falk, his presence alone enough to put you completely at ease. Before you had a chance to respond you were cut off by the sounds of fireworks going off outside. Falk grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of the balcony door. An arm slips around your waist as the two of you step out into the night. Bright bursts of blues, greens, and golds popped across the inky black sky. Your eyes widened, childlike amazement taking over your features. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here with me.” Your body moved before you had a chance to think. Your arms slid over Falk’s shoulders, guiding his lips down to meet yours. His hands rested firmly on your waist, a surprised yet satisfied hum escaping him. Your mind finally caught up with your actions you suddenly pull back, fingers flying up to your lips in pure disbelief that you had just done that

“Falk, I am so sorry.” You desperately scrambled out an apology. “I don’t know what came over me.” Before you had a chance to panic even further his lips were on yours once again. One hand laced its way into your hair, the other securing itself around your back to keep you pressed close to him. Your fingers slid into his soft hair, deepening the kiss as much as you could. Both of you part with a breathless sigh.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He says through a quiet chuckle. You wave a sarcastic, chastising finger at him.

“And here I thought you would know better than to give into improper thoughts.” You can’t help but giggle as he looms over your much smaller form.

“Schatz, every thought I have about you is improper.” You’re met with a toothy grin and a devious look in Falk’s eye. You let out a startled squeak as you’re suddenly lifted from the ground, Falk’s arms slipping behind your thighs and guiding your legs around his waist. His lips trapped yours in another mind numbing kiss, both of you laughing as he drops you on the mattress. Hot breath trailed down your neck, goosebumps littering your skin at his slightest touch. His hands slid under your shirt, successfully pushing up the fabric in the process until he was easily able to pull it off over your head. You situated yourself on your knees, hurriedly undoing the buttons of his shirt. His lips ghost over yours, a smirk crossing his features as he keeps himself just out of reach. He sits at your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to straddle his lap as you haphazardly push the clothing off of his shoulders, fingers trailing down his exposed chest. You looked at your trembling hand, unsure if there was some sort of unspoken line you shouldn't cross. Falk's hand completely engulfs yours, eyes snapping to his in an instant. "We don't have to keep going if you don't want to." He says in a gentle, reassuring tone.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's just…" he raises a curious eyebrow at you. If you were being completely honest all of this was a bit overwhelming. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't dreamed about what this moment would be like, your late night fantasies were often filled with the thought of Falk. But now that this moment was no longer a figment of your imagination you didn't have the slightest idea where to begin. "I think I might be a little nervous." You let out a flustered giggle. Strong fingers kneaded at your thighs, a patient smile resting on his lips.

"There's nothing wrong with being nervous, Schatz. Just try to relax and let me take care of you, think you can do that for me?" You nod, relinquishing full control over to him. He carefully grabs your wrist, pressing the hand that was barely grazing over his skin flush against his chest. You felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thrum under your palm. He lifted your chin slightly with his knuckle, golden brown eyes locked intently on your own. You felt him fumbling with the zipper on your skirt, he breathed out a laugh. "See? You're not the only one that's nervous." He jokes with a chuckle. You felt your body relax at the sight, you felt safe with him. You help him with the zipper, shimmying out of your skirt. You can't help but smirk slightly, noticing his eyes completely glued to the sight of your ass finally being freed from the right confines of your clothing. He reaches out for you, a delighted squeal passing your lips as he playfully pushes you onto the bed. You bite your lip, fully entranced by the sight of him crawling on top of you to give you some much needed attention. You gasp at the feeling of his teeth grazing over your exposed skin before he got to work biting and sucking what you were positive were going to be deep purple bruises come tomorrow morning.

"Fuck." You tossed your head back against the mattress, you could feel him smirk as he relentlessly toyed with a rather sensitive spot of your body. A sinful groan tumbled from his lips as he ground his hips against yours, a noticeable bulge pressed against your already soaked core. A hand slipped between your legs, rubbing slow, languid circles around your clit that had you mewling and shuddering beneath him. Your breath hitched as he effortlessly slipped a finger between your velvety folds, giving your aching cunt a moment of relief. He watched your expression carefully, paying close attention to how you responded to his expert fingers. You felt a knot beginning to form in your stomach, rapidly winding itself tighter, bringing you right to the brink of your climax. You whined as he pulled out of you, growing need pooling endlessly in your core, the feeling only growing stronger as the threat of your orgasm subsided. You watched with wide eyes as he slipped the digit into his mouth, reveling at the taste of your juices on his tongue. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight, unable to look away as he smirks down at you.

"So wet for me already," he chuckles darkly, "such a good little Maus I have." Whatever was left of the clothing he was wearing was quickly discarded, the feeling of him teasing the tip of his hardened length at your entrance sending a shiver of anticipation through your body. The two of you engaged in a silent conversation, letting Falk know that you were absolutely ready for anything he had in store for you. Your cried out as he slowly pushed himself inside of you, a slight sting from him stretching you out. You felt every inch of him enter you at his agonizing pace. He grabs your jaw, your gaze snapping back to meet his in an instant. "Eyes on me Maus." Your head was already spinning, a smile dominating your lips as you struggled to follow his orders. He gradually began to pick up his pace, every snap of his hips eliciting desperate, feverish moans as you dug your nails into his back. Your voice harmonized with his, low gravelly groans that only made your body hotter the longer you listened to them. "Sheiße." He curses under his breath, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, his strokes gradually losing their relentless rhythm. Your lips found his, taking the plump flesh between your teeth in a quick nip that sent a shiver down Falk's spine. He straightened himself up from his position on top of you, grabbing your hips roughly and slamming into you, determined to make you finish before he did.

"Falk… please…" You gasp out breathlessly, your mind numb with pleasure but it still wasn't enough to send your orgasm crashing over the edge. His fingers were back on your clit in an instant, soft spoken words of praise only adding to your dizzying headrush. He leans down, kissing you deeply as the ever tightening knot in your stomach finally snaps. You let out a muffled scream against his lips, your back arching up off the bed, your chest pressed flush against his. His thrusts became sloppy, any semblance of a rhythm gone as he let his own climax wash over him, both of you collapsing in bed next to each other, the sounds of your labored breathing filling the otherwise silent room. You felt a wet sob start to bubble up in your throat, tears pricking at your eyes as you came down from your high, various thoughts and feelings racing through your mind left you entirely overwhelmed. You sucked in a breath in an attempt to steady yourself, but Falk already noticed that something was wrong.

"Schatz? What's wrong? I didn't hurt you, did I?" You shook your head, knowing that if you tried to speak you would just end up crying. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I'm sorry, just give me a second." You tried to force a laugh.

"Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere." He holds you close, skin sticking to his in a tangled mess of limbs.

"You're not going to… stop speaking to me when we get back to the Abbey, are you?" Memories of past situationships blared in your mind, planting a seed of doubt in you. In the past it was always the same. Someone would make you believe they loved you only for them to leave once they got what they wanted.

"Of course not sweetheart." He places a soft kiss on your forehead. "Unfortunately you're stuck with me now." He chuckles. You smile, breathing out a laugh as you place a kiss to his collarbone. He clears his throat, shifting nervously. "I think I might be in love with you." He states quietly, his voice shaking in a way that was impossible to miss.

"Yeah?" You smile up at him, resting your chin on his chest. "How do you know?" The two of you exchange a bashful grin.

"Four years ago…" he starts his story, mulling over the details for a moment before continuing. "You were making some huge spectacle because Attila did something to piss you off." You laughed, that definitely sounded like something you would do. "You left the Abbey, you said you were going to some concert and you were going to stay the night at a friend's place or something. I don't remember all the details." He began playing with your hair, twisting a strand between his fingers. "You called me at one in the morning in hysterics asking if I could come pick you up. The entire way there I wasn't thinking about how tired I was or about the three hours drive ahead of me. The only thing that I could think of was whether or not you were safe, if anything had happened to you there would have been hell to pay when I got there. When I pulled up… and you rushed into my arms… and I just got the chance to hold you. I think that was when I knew." You place a soft kiss to his chest before nuzzling your face against him.

"I felt so bad asking you to drive all that way." You laugh quietly. You trace your fingers over the intricate tattoos on his arms before resting your hand on the side of his face, languidly running your thumb across his cheek. "I love you, Falk."

"I love you too, Schatz." He returns the confession with a smile, pulling you into a lingering kiss before the two of you drifted off in each other's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @ramblingoak @mustluvecho @moss-the-moth @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @kissingghouls @jennmakesitweird @gothdaddyissues @jumpcauseimfroggy @belnovacaine @iamsarahsaysso @angellayercake @vampghoulette @rabidghoul @littlegirlsdontplaynice (I think I got everyone if I missed you let me know!!)

34 notes · View notes

sunberry-strawflower · 9 months

Text

#curtissonweek2023

Here's my entry for day 2 of @blue-fanlady's curtisson week! I genuinely didn't know if I'd finish this in time but I DID IT!! Like day 1's fic, this one also went to hell in back but in different ways😭it's incredibly messy, but I tried and I think that's gotta count for something haha

Yes this is a typical type of overworking fic--I wasn't sure what else to do with the prompt sadly😔

Despite this, I hope you enjoy!

Possible CW(s): descriptions of fainting? Or the process of. Also multiple mentions of lack of sleep and eating. If any of these make you uncomfortable please don't read this.

Word count: 3.8k

Curtisson Week Day 2: Paperwork

"Are you sure you shouldn't rest a little?"

"Yes, Burt, I'm sure."

Burt sighed as his boyfriend once again brushed off his concerns. Sven was doing paperwork for The Toppat Clan. He recently got promoted to the leader position of his job under his own will because the previous leader and his Right Hand Man got arrested. Nobody else wanted to step up, so Sven decided, well, somebody had to do it.

However, he's been trying too hard to balance paperwork, the rocket plan, and managing the Toppat's all at once. It doesn't help that he doesn't have a right hand man like the previous leaders did.

He's been overworking himself and there's little Burt can do about it, which upsets him.

Sven is stubborn. If he feels something needs to be done, he needs it to be done right then.

Burt tries to talk to him about it, but Sven always claims it's fine and not to worry about it. But with his constant sleepless nights, noticeably snappier temper, constant headaches, and lack of energy and motivation to do anything other than work, work, work…Burt couldn't help but worry.

They haven't spent much time together lately either. Not just with him, but his relationships with his fellow Toppat members have been suffering.

He understood work can be stressful, especially if you're the leader of a massive criminal organization, but did Sven really need to push himself this hard?

Burt just looked at Sven with hints of concern as he continued to sign and flip through more and more paperwork. "Well, just…don't work too hard, alright?"

Burt didn't stay to see if Sven would answer him or not and just left the room, closing the door behind him.

Before Sven was promoted to leader, yes, he did have a tendency to overwork, but it never got this bad. And Burt was always there for him during those times. Always there to remind him to take care of himself. And more often than not, Sven remembered to at least take care of his own needs.

He was a lot more cheerful, friendly, and happier. He would smile that pretty smile Burt loved so, so much. And on the times he did overwork, Burt talked to him about it. He was able to help him get out of that constant work cycle. Even if just for a little bit.

This time, though, it was much worse. Sven hadn't been listening to Burt's concerns at all. He would say he'd get sleep, say he'd eat decently, say he'd take a break, but Burt can tell he hasn't done any of those things, and he doesn't know what else he could possibly do. He was stuck at a brick wall here.

He stood there with his back to the door for a bit, looking down in thought. "Oh, Sven…" he whispered to himself. "I don't know what to do…"

-------

Carol walked into the cafeteria to get some lunch, planning on taking it back to her office. She walked up to the counter and looked at the options. Looks like she's a little late because everyone seemed to have taken all of the good stuff. She shrugs and settles for a simple but filling beef sandwich. Once she finished making the sandwich and put it on her plate, she turned to the doorway so she could leave. However, she couldn't help but notice Burt sitting at a table all alone, having barely touched his food. Now, it wasn't unusual for Burt to eat alone. In fact, he preferred it.

Carol, Burt, and Sven all used to hang out quite a bit (sometimes with other Toppats as well) when they all had the time, which admittedly wasn't too much but it was enough to satisfy them. Carol knew Burt well and while he does tend to look a little uninterested or bored, resting bitch face and all that, this was different. Very noticeably, in Carol's eyes.

He was sulken, with an unreadable expression on his face. He had a nice warm bowl of tomato soup in front of him. One of his favorites. And yet he's barely touched it at all. He occasionally lifted the spoon and looked into the red broth it had, like he was considering finally starting on his dish, but then he decided against it and would slowly lower the spoon back into the bowl.

Carol knew exactly what was going on. She's seen it too. She noticed Sven's overworking himself more and more. He wasn't as energetic, his temper was all over the place, he never left his office and whenever he did, Carol could see just how exhausted he was.

His overworking really took a toll on the three's friendship, along with Burt and Sven's relationship.

Carol finally decided she's had enough with watching them crumble down to pieces and made her way towards Burt, sitting down on the bench opposite from him.

Burt glanced up at her, but didn't say anything.

"Your food is going to get cold, you know." She said,

Burt sighed again. "Yeah, I know."

Carol sat there for a few seconds, thinking about what to say.

"I understand you're upset about Sven," She said bluntly. "But just sulking in the cafeteria isn't helping at all."

Burt nodded. "I know."

Carol looked at Burt with a sharp expression. "Have you said or done anything?"

Burt glared at Carol. "What do you think? Of course I have.

"Like what?"

"The things I usually did when he was overworking himself. Reassured him, reminded him that he doesn't need to work too hard, that his health comes first," He said. "It took a bit of time because, well, you know how stubborn he can be. But eventually with enough reassurance and comfort, he would start to relax, even if just a little."

Carol hummed. "And none of that's worked?"

Burt shook his head. "No. He claims to eat decently and sleep, but he doesn't look like he does at all. I know he doesn't want me to worry, but I can't help it…" Burt buried his face in his hands.

Carol didn't say anything. She realized her food would get cold if she just sat here, so she took a few bites of her sandwich.

Burt looked up at her and noticed she hadn't responded and kept eating on her sandwich. He then looked down at his soup, it had gone cold and transparent, he could almost see his reflection in the broth. He slowly pushed the bowl away and went to stand up.

"Burt."

Burt looked to Carol, who was staring at him with a solemn expression. "Maybe mere words won't be enough to help him this time."

Burt raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying me and Sven aren't affectionate enough?"

Carol shook her head. "Oh, no, that is not what I mean at all." Carol already knew Sven and Burt tended to be very affectionate towards each other.

"Well, then what?"

"What I mean is, just telling him not to overwork himself isn't going to do anything. You'll have to do something. Even if it's by force."

Burt noticeably flinched at the 'force' part. "No, no. If I force him away, he'll get angry," He said. "Besides, isn't that a bit, well, forceful? I don't think being aggressive will help at all."

"Who said it was aggressive?" She questioned. "Forcing him away doesn't necessarily mean you have to do anything drastic like snatching things from him."

Burt still didn't seem to understand where Carol was going with this. Sven takes his work very seriously. Forcing it away will only make him upset, especially with his already messy temper.

"Just be firm. Be serious." She said simply. "He really does love you, you know?"

Burt just sighed and nodded, turning to leave the cafeteria. Carol let her eyes follow him until he was out of sight, and turned back to eat her sandwich.

------

Once Burt left the cafeteria, he walked down the hallway, not entirely sure where he was going. It was quiet, aside from occasionally hearing somebody typing on their keyboard loudly in one room or the sound of rummaging through paperwork in another. That sound reminded him of not so fun things.

He kept thinking back to what Carol said earlier. Was she trying to give advice?

You have to actually do something. Even if it's by force.

Who did she think he was? He HAS been doing something. Everything he felt like he could. Why did Carol feel like his efforts weren't enough?

And by force? What did that even mean?

Forcing him away doesn't necessarily mean you have to do anything drastic like snatching things from him.

He knew that much, but he couldn't think of any ways to force Sven away from work without making him mad.

Just be firm. Be serious.

He HAS been being serious. He's been very direct with Sven about how he feels with his habit of overworking. At least, he thought he was being direct. Sven seemed to get the hint (most of the time).

He really does love you, you know?

Of course Sven loved him. Sven loved Burt. Burt loved him too. That's why it hurt so much seeing him like this. Especially when he felt there was nothing he could do.

He started to walk a little slower the closer he got to Sven's office. He didn't even realize he was slowing down his pace until he found himself right in front of the office door. He lifted his fist up, letting it hover. He was contemplating whether or not to knock on it. Whether or not he wanted to try and get Sven to rest for probably the thousandth time since he became leader.

He took a deep breath and knocked three times before letting himself in. "Sven, we need to talk."

Sven didn't look in Burt's direction. "Not now, Burt. I'm busy."

Burt was mentally hit with so many emotions at that response. Maybe more than he should've been.

"But, Sven, I–"

"Burt, this is important, I can't drop it right now." Sven interrupted him.

Burt didn't care how important that work was right now. The most important thing was Sven's health. And he wanted Sven to understand that more than anything.

He started thinking maybe Carol was right. He had to be a little forceful in order to get Sven even the slightest bit willing to listen to him.

He took a few steps to where Sven was sitting and tried again. "Sven, this is important."

Sven went to reach for more paperwork to sign. "I'm sorry, but I have to–"

Before he could finish, he felt Burt grip his wrist. He wasn't gripping hard enough for it to hurt, but it was enough to where he couldn't do much with his hand. He flushed when he felt Burt wrap his hand around his wrist, but he was also slightly annoyed. What was up with him right now?

He looked up at Burt who had a firm, serious expression. However, under that expression, there was concern. A lot of it.

"Sven," He repeated his name. "Please."

Sven didn't know whether he should listen to Burt or not. He looked like he really needed to talk to him, but he needed to get his work done as well. He couldn't leave it unfinished.

Before Sven could properly respond, he felt Burt gently pull him up from his chair. "Burt?"

Burt didn't say anything and led Sven out of his office. Once they got out, Burt just now realized he didn't know where to take him, but they couldn't have this conversation in his office, because Sven would probably try and start working again while Burt was trying to talk. They couldn't talk in the middle of the hallway either, though.

"Burt, what are you doing? Can you…" Sven felt his sentence trail off for seemingly no reason. He wanted to try and get out of Burt's grasp, but having finally stood up from his chair, he realized just how exhausted he was and he didn't think he had the energy to resist.

Burt started walking towards his own room. Not an office, but his actual bedroom. He felt that was the best place to go to talk about this right now.

Sven started to try and make an effort to resist and get out of Burt's grasp, even if most of his efforts would end up futile. He had to at least try. Burt just took him away from his office without telling him a thing!

The only response Burt gave to his efforts was gripping his wrist tighter. Again, not enough to hurt him, but enough for it to be harder for Sven to slip out of his grasp. He's already gotten this far and he wasn't going to let Sven get away before properly talking to him.

He finally made it to his bedroom, took Sven in with him, and closed the door behind them.

He loosened the grip on Sven's wrist, but didn't let go.

Now Sven was more than just a little annoyed. Burt forcefully dragged him over to his room and hadn't explained a thing.

"Okay, I'm here now. What is it you want to talk about?" He asked, scowling slightly.

"I want to talk about you overworking." Burt said.

That was what he wanted Sven over here for? Are you serious??

Sven refused to believe he was overworking. He was not. He was just doing his job. Being a leader was hard work. Reginald could do it so why couldn't he?

"Burt, I've told you a million times," Sven groaned. "I'm not overworking myself. I'm fine."

Burt let go of Sven's wrist and put both of his hands on his shoulders. "Sven, I'm serious. This amount of work isn't healthy for you." He said. Sven still wouldn't budge, but Burt was going to be persuasive.

"I can handle it!" He said, and tried to force Burt's hands off of his shoulders. He held his grip. Sven could not handle it. Nobody could handle that amount of work. At least not all in one sitting. Everyone needed to rest eventually. Sven seemed to make himself think otherwise.

"No you can't!" Burt cried. Probably the loudest he's been in a while, but Sven didn't seem to take note of this. All he cared about was leaving this conversation and getting back into his office. "You've been skipping meals, not getting any sleep–" Burt stressed.

"Bu-But I have! I've told you a million times, haven't I?" Sven started shaking, and he wasn't sure why. He wasn't scared, or shaking in anger. He just wanted this to be over. Burt noticed this and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

"No, you haven't. I know you haven't…" Burt said. "You need to–"

Sven didn't want to hear it. "No! I don't need to do anything. I'm fine. I'm alright."

"No you're not!" He couldn't hold back his voice as it started to break. Was there really nothing he could do about this? He had to resist the urge to shake Sven by the shoulders. He didn't want him to feel more overwhelmed than he probably already was.

"Why are you being so persistent??" Sven complained. He tried to get Burt's hands off his shoulders again, this time being successful. Burt stepped back, his hands awkwardly in the air. Sven sighed. "If I tell you I'm fine, then I am. End of story." His legs started to feel weak, but he ignored it.

Burt let his arms fall down to his sides, with an expression that looked like a mix of sadness and frustration. He looked into Sven's eyes. They looked…wrong. Something didn't feel right. Other than the bags under them. They seemed to drift ever so slightly, and Sven didn't look like he was doing it consciously.

This was a little concerning, and Burt felt like it had to do with his lack of sleep and eating. "Sven, I'm serious. You really need to lie down."

Sven shook his head. "I'm fine–" he muttered, before he felt himself tumble over. Instead of falling on the carpeted floor, though, he felt something warm on his back. Burt's arms were keeping him standing steadily.

He felt himself getting weaker and he felt awfully dizzy all of a sudden. His ears were ringing and he could feel everything and nothing at the same time.

He could tell Burt was saying something, but he couldn't hear what it was. It just sounded like white noise under the ringing in his ears.

What the hell happened? He was fine a moment ago.

Burt gently sat him on the bed and left the room. Probably not a good idea because Sven could just get up and walk back to his office without Burt stopping him. But he was way too out of it to even think about going back to work. He couldn't hear anything and his vision was still blurry. If he were to even try to go back, he'd more than likely pass out.

Sven had no idea what was happening. One second, they were arguing about work, then the next, he felt his senses go numb and his legs give out. It was all so sudden. He missed Burt's comforting presence already, despite everything that had happened a few minutes ago.

Now that he was sitting down and resting, the dizziness had subsided just the slightest bit. He still felt weak, though, so he just sat there and waited. Either for Burt to get back or for him to feel better enough to leave.

He heard soft footsteps and assumed that it was Burt coming back. He walked in with a bottle of water and shut the door. He sat down next to Sven and looked at him with the same amount of concern as earlier, albeit for different reasons this time.

"Please drink something." Burt said as he handed the bottle of water to him. Sven took it and drank a bit. He started feeling a little better and sighed with relief.

Burt wasn't fully comforted by the amount he drank, though. "Can you drink more?" He asked gently. While it was alright if he couldn't, Burt would prefer if Sven could get a little more in his system. Even if it was just water.

Sven gave Burt a soft look before nodding. He was worried about him and he understood that now. He took a few more sips before letting Burt take it back.

That was odd and scary. Sven had never had a spell like that before. It was so out of nowhere too. They both calmed down from arguing.

"Sven…" Burt started. "After seeing that, it's pretty apparent you haven't been taking care of yourself at all."

Sven couldn't refute anything at this point. Burt knew better, and Sven should've known that. "I just…" he let his voice trail off, not knowing what he wanted to say. He felt tears well up in his eyes, his emotions were all over the place.

Burt frowned at this and put his hand on top of Sven's. "Are you okay?" He asked, which was honestly a stupid question because no Sven was not okay, but he didn't know what else to say.

Sven tried to hold it in, now feeling mentally weak for crying. Burt noticed this and gave him a reassuring look. "You can cry. It's okay."

Sven broke down then and there. He clung onto Burt and sobbed into his shirt. He's a failure. A failure to his boyfriend for making him worry, a failure to his friends for neglecting them, a failure to Reginald and Right Hand Man who would've trusted him to do better.

Burt wrapped his arms around him as he cried. "Hey, it's okay…" he soothed him.

Sven responded by clinging onto his shirt tighter and tried to speak through his sobbing. "I'm sorry, Burt. I can't do this anymore! I feel terrible!" He cried. "I should've worked harder! For the previous leaders, for the clan, for you…"

"Sven…," Burt muttered. "Look at me. Hey, look at me." he said gently, tilting Sven's chin up so he could see him properly. Tears were still streaming down his cheeks and he just looked miserable. "No, you shouldn't have worked harder. In fact, I'd say the opposite." He said. "Like I said, I know you're not taking care of yourself, which caused you to faint. You don't have to work harder for anybody. You've worked hard enough."

Sven couldn't bring it in himself to say anything. He's heard everything he's needed to hear at this point. He's worked hard enough. He buried his face back into Burt's shirt and kept crying.

Once he finally calmed down, he lifted his head up from his boyfriend's shirt, letting out a sniffle every few seconds.

"I'm sorry… for making you worry and…and for–"

Burt gently hushed him, reassuring him that it was okay. "You don't have to apologize, Sven. Really. I'm sorry for making you upset but you need to remember your health comes before anything. Including work. Okay?"

Sven nodded. Burt didn't upset him. He was just feeling overwhelmed and upset about everything else, but he was finding it hard to speak now.

Burt kept his arms wrapped around him to assure him that he was okay. They were both okay. And they'd figure this out together. He gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. "I love you. You know that, right?"

Sven nodded and relaxed in Burt's arms. "I love you too. So much."

They sat there for a bit in each other's arms, Sven barely even having the urge to work at the moment. He felt himself begin to drift off. He tried to fight it, but it was getting harder and harder.

Burt noticed this (he seems to notice a lot of things about Sven) and chuckled. "It's alright. You can sleep now. In fact, you should sleep now." Burt whispered. Sven was about to argue, but he felt his eyes grow heavy once more. His boyfriend's relaxing voice did not help at all.

Burt was hoping Sven would sleep. Especially after fainting due to lack of food and exhaustion and crying his heart out in his arms. There's no way he's not tired. "Sven, please."

Sven begrudgingly let himself give in. "Alright…"

A few seconds later, Sven finally let his eyes close and rest for who knows how long.

Tomorrow, Burt was going to try and get Sven to eat and develop a healthier work cycle, but for now, he's just happy his boyfriend is letting himself sleep. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off as well. Both of them finally getting the rest they both desperately needed.

_______________________________________________________

I forgot to do this yesterday so don't mind me doing it today—

#it's literally 11pm over here I barely made it #but what matters is that I did🙏#now here's to me hoping day 3 will be better #it should be fine as the idea I have for it is simple and fluffy :]#this fic was kind of self-indulgent but not really #also I hope the description of fainting was realistic enough--I've had numerous fainting spells and that's how it felt for me #but it could feel different for other ppl so hejdjrfj #shoutout to carol for coming in to eat a sandwich and giving the most vague advice before leaving the story forever #I honestly lost my motivation to keep writing this towards the end so it's hella rushed am sorry #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #sven svensson #curtissonweek2023 #burt curtis #cross posted on ao3 #curtisson #henry stickmin collection

11 notes · View notes

puffpasstea · 2 years

Text

Matilda

A/N: Thanks, again, for reading and sharing! Special shoutout to the anon who messaged me last night. I hope you like this one!

As always, comments, thoughts, suggestions, criticism etc. are welcome and encouraged!

Read Chapters 1, 2, and 3.

Chapter 4

I fumbled with my keys for what felt like an eternity: my hands shaking, missing the keyhole a few times, rotating them in the wrong direction once or twice. When I was finally inside, I let my coat, shoes, and bag all drop to the floor and ran straight for my bed.

Lying on my stomach, face planted into the pillow, the kiss played in my mind on a loop. What on earth possessed me to do that? Seriously, what's wrong with me?! The first person to show me kindness and the slightest bit of attention had me sticking my tongue in their mouth in less than 24 hours. I shifted to lay on my right side and wondered what Harry must be thinking right now. Uncomfortable, embarrassed, shocked, violated, disgusted.... the options were endless. And he'd have every right to feel that way.

My mind was racing with fragmented thoughts. I wish I could go back in time and take it all back. I need to apologize. I shall never show my face at work again. I should just pack up and move. Shifting again to lay on my back, I thought about what I'd want to say to him. I really don't want him to feel used or objectified. It wasn't like that. He just made me feel so comfortable in my own skin and made his home and his group of friends so warm and welcoming, and he went out of his way to be nice to me, no questions asked, expecting nothing in return. And I hadn't felt the touch of another human being since 2019. I just got caught up in the moment.

Gosh, even my apology sounds pathetic. There's really no way to save face here. I don't know that a dramatic explanation is necessary. Surely he has more important things on his mind than my fuck up? We don't even know each other that well. He'd probably forget all about me in no time. A part of me wanted to explain and apologize until I'm blue in the face. The other part wanted to run, hide, and avoid him for the rest of my life.

The buzzing of my phone in my pocket finally put an end to my circular thought spirals.

Dad (12:01 am): Your mother is upset.

Dad (12:02 am): She thought she was doing something nice for you.

Dad (12:03 am): You should still come. If not because you miss us, do it because she misses you. Can't you compromise to make your mother happy?

Seeing those messages appear on my screen was the last straw, tears immediately ran down my face.

***

The sun was rising over the hill by the time that I'd finally stopped sobbing and decided to get ready for work. There was a lot of insurance paperwork to be done if I was going to take out our rare books and collectables to be used on set this afternoon. I gathered my ID card and work items and tossed them, along with my phone, into last night's bag. Leaving my father's texts unanswered, I made my way to work.

***

The security guard on set glanced at my ID, confirming that my name was indeed on his list, and let me through. Not five seconds after I crossed the security barrier, Harry appeared in front of me.

"We should talk." He blurted out.

I hadn't yet had a chance to decide if I was going to choose the apology route or the run and hide route. Why is he ambushing me?

"I'd love to, but I'm running late to drop stuff off." I sprinted away as fast as my shaky legs could take me. So, run and hide it is.

Less than an hour later, as I was waiting for the director to sign her portion of the insurance papers, Harry approached me again, "Is now a good time?" he smiled nervously and made a conscious effort to uncross his arms.

"Actually, it's not. I- need to check on something. Shouldn't leave these books unattended until the papers are signed for real."

His face dropped and he sighed audibly. "You can't run away forever, you know."

I pretended not to hear him as I walked away. I knew I was acting childish. Why is he doing this? Why must he torture us both? This is excruciating and endlessly embarrassing for me, and I'm sure it's no walk in the park for him either. Why won't he just, let it go! It pained me to do this to him, but the thought of actually standing in front of him and having to look him in the eyes as I explain to him the logic behind my stupidly leaping to his side of the car and kissing him without warning felt a million times worse. I'm just choosing the lesser of two evils.

***

My benevolent plan, however thoughtful, was ultimately shortsighted. I'd failed to account for the 6:00 PM break on the schedule where everyone was free and the catering truck came by with snacks.

"You can't possibly have somewhere to go this time." Harry showed up with a cup of coffee and a plate of food. Why is he always feeding me?

"I know you take your coffee black, so, no, you don't have to go change it. I brought napkins and utensils too. No excuses. Please sit down?" though his tone was confident and his work choice was careful, he was blushing as he spoke. Looking into his earnest eyes, I couldn't bring myself to walk away this time. I sat down and accepted the refreshments.

"Harry, listen-"

"No, you listen. Let me speak before you change your mind and decide to run again."

I chuckled. Now it was my turn to blush.

" I think we should talk about what happened last night. I don't want to make a big deal out of it--"

"Okay, then don't!" I couldn't help but interrupt him again. It wasn't intentional. Simply hearing him utter the words "last night," "talk," and "big deal," made bile fill my stomach.

"You're really bad at following instructions aren't you? I said listen and let me speak."

"No. Look, if you really don't want to make a big deal out of it, then, can we just-- can we just pretend it never even happened? Never speak of it again? Like ever?"

He didn't say anything for a while. But he never broke eye contact the whole time, he looked me straight in the eyes as he tucked his lips in, and slowly frowned.

"Is that what you want? I mean, is it really what you want?"

What's that supposed to mean? Why is he making it sound like a trick question?

I nodded then finally mustered the courage to reply, "yeah...it's what I really want."

He continued looking at me, his expression unchanged. Then he shifted in a split second. Looking down at the fruit he'd brought us, he picked up a fork and stabbed a melon bite, "fine, then, consider it forgotten." He bit into his fruit.

The silence that followed gave my mind time to wander. Is he mad at me? Had I made the right decision? Why does it feel tense and cold between us? How do I go back to the instant ease from before I went and fucked it up? I ruined things; I should be the one to fix them.

"Hey guys! Mind if I join?" Harry's cast mate from last night, Christopher approached us.

"Have a seat, mate!" Harry scooted to make room for his friend.

Christopher looked at me and asked if I've been here all day. I explained that I'm only needed in the afternoon. To babysit some fancy books. He laughed and asked if I chatting was allowed during book-watching duties. "If you're serious about what you said last night. About not minding our literature questions, I mean. Could really use some help." Harry's head jerked as he looked up from his plate, shooting Christopher a look that his friend didn't seem to notice. Harry's eyes quickly shifted towards me, as if waiting on my response. "Sure! It'd be nice to have some company while I'm just sitting there, in between takes."

My words were directed at Christopher but my eyes searched Harry's face. For what? I wasn't sure. Approval? forgiveness? encouragement?

***

At the end of a very long night shoot, I gathered the books that I'd come to set with, and got ready to head out. The actors were back at their trailers, changing out of costumes, checking their props in, and getting ready to leave too.

I ran into Harry again at the parking lot.

"Need a ride?" he asked as he walked up to me.

"Ah, no, thanks. I got my own." I pointed towards my car. We stood there. smiling nervously at one another.

My phone buzzed. it was probably my dad again, so I wanted to ignore it. But Harry's intense gaze was making me feel transparent and nervous, so I needed to focus my attention somewhere else.

Christopher (12:01 a.m.): Thanks so much for all the help today! It's already made a world of difference in my scenes. Can I please buy you dinner sometime? as a 'thank you'?

Harry watched my face relax and my smile grow as I looked at my screen.

"What is it?" he asked mirroring my smile.

"Nothing, just a good work day, you know?"

#matilda #harry styles #dom!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry's house

86 notes · View notes