#sorry this got posted a tad bit late
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You’re My New Addiction | JL x Reader
Jake Lockley x f!Reader.
Stalker!Jake Lockley. Dark!JakeLockley (obvi). Choking. Hair Pulling. Mentions of alcohol. Smut without Plot? Teasing. Biting/marking. P in v (no protection- wrap it before you tap it). Noncon/dubcon. Knife play. Bondage themes (ie: using duct tape to tie reader up, using fingers as a gag). Semi-public sex (Sex in his limo). Jake is a rough man (Marc like to get to the point). Some Dark!Steven x Reader. Some Dark!Marc x Reader. Noneducated depiction of DID (MCU writing- also not a Spanish speaker so sorry if its incorrect)
No edit/nothin but word vomit. Sorry for any mistakes lol
- Dark themes. This writing isn't for everyone just an fyi so if you're not into that sorta stuff then don't read- i want everyone that visits my blog to feel comfy with what they like. Sorry if its not the best. Was kinda rushed and this is my very first Moon knight writing <3
Word Count: 1,487
Taglist:
@restless-mama
@charmed-asylum
@melodygatesauthor
If anyone wishes to be added/removed please let me know
The sound of the bassy club music was deafening, making your body vibrate with each beat as you and some of your female friends danced together, drunk and giggling from downing a shit ton of your favorite drinks. You told your friends you were going to call for a cab as you gave them goodbye hugs. You knew you were at your stopping point and there was a man making you feel uncomfortable.
You let out a shaky breath as you pulled your jacket close to yourself, looking around nervously as you began to walk quickly, going into a nearby alleyway that you usually took for a shortcut to your apartment. The sound of footsteps echoing behind you made you shiver as you reached into your pocket to grab your keys to use as a weapon. Before you could wrap your hands around them a leather-gloved hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes widened as the smell of cigars and cologne filled your nostrils. A dark chuckle vibrated against you as someone held a knife against your throat.
"Now now, sweetheart. No fighting me, alright? And I won't hurt you. I promise." He smirked as he began forcing you back to where you came from toward a white limo.
The interior was cherry red leather. The seats squeaked slightly under your weight as the man quickly placed you into a seat. He grabbed the duct tape that was in the seat beside you and taped your wrists together. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of the man in front of you. His eyes were dark as chocolates, his skin sun-kissed, his lips in a tight line of concentration before using the same knife from earlier to cut the tape.
Your eyes widened as the man's eyes met yours with a smirk on his face. He tutted his tongue when you quickly averted your gaze away from him but he wasn't stupid. He gripped your jaw firmly, forcing you to stare at him, his smirk widening into a grin as he stares you up and down as if to size you up; his tongue swiping across his bottom lips to wet them.
"Oh, we're going to have so much fun, Cariño" The man spoke, sending shivers up your spine and a pool of arousal straight to your core.
You jumped slightly as he slammed the door shut before climbing into the driver seat, opening the window panel that separated the front from the back, and glanced back at you before driving. You could hear him rambling on to himself as he kept glancing at the mirror.
Something inside of you was telling you to try and escape. Call for help from the window. But something inside of you was telling you no. But why? What if the man decided to end you after he was finished getting what he wanted. You were most likely going to be used as a toy and thrown into a ditch somewhere.
Amid your thoughts, you were unaware of the man stopping in a dark wooded area that was a few miles away from the town. He opened your door and fixed his leather gloves causing them to squeak slightly with his movements as he grinned down at you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and quickly began scooting away from him to scream for help. Would anyone even hear you? Before you could get a sound out the man climbed on top of you, placing his hand around your throat as he held you close. His mouth centimeters from your ear as he pressed himself into your ass making sure you could feel his erection that was struggling against the fabric of his black slacks. He let out a deep groan as you squirmed against him, causing you to rut against his cock that so desperately needed to be buried deep inside the warmth of your soaked channel. You let out a loud whine as he pushed you onto your back, a sadistic smirk on his face as he pulled his knife from his pocket.
Your eyes widened as he brought the face up to your face, dragging the sharp tip down your sensitive skin down to your chest and dragging it slowly along your clavicle leaving a trail of red welts in its wake before pushing under your left strap of your dress and pulling it toward the side making the strap fall loose in two pieces exposing your black lace bra. A low guttural growl vibrated his chest as he took in the sight of you after doing the same to your second strap and tossing your dress off to the side.
The man gripped your hips and began grinding his hips into yours, pressing his lips to yours before he tensed, throwing his head back and his eyes rolling back. He looked down at you, his demeanor changing as his brown eyes scanned your body.
“Holy hell, love. Arent you just a fantastic sight? So-Sorry about all these. Just couldn’t help ourselves now could we. M’name is Steven with a V. Thank the gods Jake finally got you where we wanted you.”
“The hell?”
“Sorry yeah um, the body is shared by three different people. Marc is the host, Jake and and I are an alter, and who ever fronts is who you get a joy of bein’ with, love. Hope this doesn’t affect your thoughts on us. I-I mean of course they won't. We’ve been watchin’ you for quite some time. Bit excitin’ innit? We just had to get you. You’re our new addiction after all.” He gripped your thighs as his eyes rolled back again.
When he came to his appearance seemed to change again. He seemed more dark and mysterious, his thick brows furrowing together as he clenched his jaw as if he was pissed off. And boy was he. He snarled as he flipped you onto your stomach, ripping your lace underwear off as if they were nothing, pulling your ass back against the erection that was begging for attention roughly as he shoved two thick fingers into your mouth.
“You know the thing about Steven and Jake... they like to take their sweet ass time and draw things out. Work you up where as I...” he quickly undone his belt and pants with one hand, pulling his aching cock free before pushing the thick leaking head against your tight entrance. Slamming his hips into yours not letting you adjust as he slammed his hips into yours over and over at a punishing pace. The sound of wet noises and your muffled sobs rang through the car, fogging up the dark glass. “I like- to – get – to - the – fucking - point.”
Marc groaned loudly as he used his hand that still had two fingers in your mouth to pull you back until you were on your knees and your back pressed against his front. It was painful yet gave a deliciously new angle that he abused your cunt with. Your drool drenching his arm as he reached his free hand around to rub your clit as he pounded into you. While your brain melted, Jake fronted, Spanish profanities slipping from his lips as he continued what Marc was doing. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and moved his hand down to your throat, squeezing hard but not enough to block your breathing.
All you could do was whimper and beg, nonsense falling from your tongue as they made a mess of you. Jake smirked at the cute noises you were making, their names leaving your beautiful swollen lips as tears streaked your face. His hips snapped harder up into you, the tip of his fat cock brushing against your special spot that made you lose control repeatedly until you were gushing, soaking his pants and the floor of the limo.
“Holy fuck, Princesa. Your cunt just made such a big fucking mess on my cock. Such a good girl for us, aren't you? Letting us tear you open and being obedient for us. Gonna fill – fuck- gonna fill this tight little hole up until you can’t hold anymore. You’re our now, sweetheart.” Jake’s thrusts became sloppy as he rubbed your clit faster, making you clench tightly around the base of his throbbing length, the girth spreading you open a bit more as he began twitching inside of you.
He pulled whimpers from you as you felt the warmth of his hot spend filling you to the brim while he rocked your hips into his softly until you were both cooled down from your highs. Jake smirked as he placed you onto your back and fixing his pants before giving you a quick kiss to your lips.
“Now. It's time for us to go home. Got to get some rest so we can continue breaking in our new little toy. When I’m done with you. You’re not going to be able to walk for a few days.”
#Moon Knight#moon boys#jake lockley smut#jake lockley x reader#jake lockley#steven grant#steven grant x reader#marc spector#marc spector x reader#dark!moon boys#dark!moon knight#dark!marc#dark!steven#dark!jake lockley#sorry this got posted a tad bit late#tumblr gave me issues cause it didnt wanna post lol
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can i request where reader cant go to their match and they got angry which makes them say the word "i shouldve invite *ex's name*, she wouldve come." and reader reaction can be up to you! with rin and maybe chigiri? thank you so much and please stay hydrate! sending loves <33
OHHH MYYY GODDD ANONNN……..
the way i gasped so loud when i saw this OMGOMG
okay so, idk if you’re wanting PURE ANGST for this but like i’ll add fluff at the end anyway bc the more the merrier😇😁😁
OKAY SO UMM..i’m a procrastinator, it’s no secret. so uhh chigiris will be posted when i remember to work on it, sorry😭
“are you serious?” “you’re..kidding, right?”
chigiri hyoma and rin itoshi x reader (seperate) click here for chigiri’s
tags/warnings: angst to comfort, swearing, arguing, NOT PROOFREAD…
synopsis: if he’s so insistent on you being there to support him, why doesn’t he do the same?
a/n: i am SO SORRY this took so long </3 i got busy but this request is soo..chefs kiss i hope i did it justice😓
RIN ITOSHI—
the faint mumbles from the tv filled rin’s apartment as you made a quick snack to eat, knowing your boyfriend should be home any minute. you sat down on the couch to eat, turning the tv volume up as background noise while you looked out the window. it faced a gorgeous view of your city, along with a nice view of the sunset.
after some time, you were back in the kitchen to clean up a bit.
*click*
the jingling of keys indicated rin was home, a tad later that usual but you payed no mind to it.
“hey,” you smiled, “welcome home, how was practice?” arms wrapping around his neck as he set his bag down, taking his shoes off. his arm snaked around your waist to pull you closer to him, planting a kiss on your temple.
“eh, same as always. those lukewarm lunatics don’t know what they’re doing”
you hummed in response, rin pulling away from you to look you in the eye. he spoke again. “we have a game in a few days. you’re going, right?” it sounded more like a demand than a question.
“oh uh about that” you broke eye contact, a twinge of nervousness tainted your face. “i was given an extra shift at work so i’ll be swamped, i don’t think i’ll be able to make it, sorry”
his before softened gaze now pierced right through you, full of annoyance. “really? i thought you’d want to come to my games.” his arms left your torso and flopped to his side, lower back resting on the counter.
“i do! i always do..rin you know this, i go to your games when i can but lately i’ve just been more busy an-” you rambled.
he cut you off, “quit the excuses.”
“excuse me?” you replied, shocked at how his silver tongue was so quick to interrupt you.
“i get it. you’re busy. you don’t have to make up these half-baked excuses and try to make me feel better.” he moved from the counter, straightening his back and showing his full height, looking down on you as if you were less than him at that moment.
“excuses? rin, what the hell are you talking about? i’m being serious.” confusion swirled in your mind, what was up with him??
“you know, i never had these problems with *ex’s name*. she was always happy to come to my games. no excuses, no lies. every game, she was there. why can’t you be like that?” rin’s venom stained words singed into your brain, glints of annoyance pooled in his eyes. a twinge of guilt settled in his gut the minute those words spilled out of his mouth, but he payed no mind to it.
“what?” your eyes widened in disbelief, “are you fucking serious?”
how could he say that? sure, rin was petty and used bitter language when he was upset, but comparing you to his ex? that was a new low, even for him. after all of the crap you two talked about when mentioning both of your exes in the past, you’d assume he’d want absolutely nothing to do with her. right?
“why wouldn’t i be?” not once did his gaze leave your figure, was he serious? “she actually took my career seriously.”
you were beyond shocked, eyes narrowing as your brows knitted together. “invite her then.” you retorted. “maybe i will, maybe then i’ll have someone who actually supports me there.” he scoffed.
his words made your blood boil, eye twitching before you spoke again, “get out.” you gritted through your teeth, fingers fiddling with the hem of your (his) sweater as to not lose your cool.
“what?” he scoffed, not expecting such a response (he really should have, what was he thinking??)
“did i fucking stutter? or is your skull too thick to hear what i have to say. get. out.”
the strikers face further scrunched, yet not moving an inch. “this is my apartment. if you’re upset, then leave.” he brushed past you without a single regret as to what he had said, not entirely believing you’d actually leave, where else did you have to go?
“fine then.” you slipped your shoes on while dialing a number on your phone before slamming the door, leaving the rin to sit with his thoughts. you had much, much more to say, but the thought of having to stay in the same vicinity as you made your stomach churn.
who did you call? why, your best friend of course, who else would you trust with this information. sure, rin’s teammates weren’t bad people to open up to, but you needed someone who could understand your feelings through angry sobs and incoherent mumbles.
it was only a matter of time before you were sat on yours friends bed, angry tears burning your cheeks as you rambled on about how dumb your boyfriend was.
“break up with him” your friend mumbled, only half joking. “me personally, i wouldn’t stay with a man, nah, a BOY who brings up his ex when he’s mad..”
you lifted your head from the tear stained pillow to meet your friend’s gaze. “yeah but……ugh i hate when you’re right” your sentence ending with a laugh
“i’m kidding..kind of” she sneered “either way, screw him, ghost his ass until he comes crying at your doorstep”
“what??” you shot up from your position, now almost on top of your friend. she was faced you, a more serious expression painting her face
“seriously though, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit [n/n], he has the be the one to apologize.” you nodded in response, good thing your friend had a bit more common sense than you did in that moment.
“yeah, you’re right, thanks”
“any time, now do you wanna stay here or are you good to go home?”
“i’ll stay here and bug you more”
“okay then” she laughed out, the two of you now laying on the bed on your backs, staring at the ceiling
• { time skip - two days later } •
the radio silence that came from rin was like torture, did he not care? not a single text or phone call, not even a message given from one of his teammates. it was hard to stay positive.
sure, he deserved the silent treatment, but he was your boyfriend. his company single-handedly made your days better. being separated because of a fight that he didn’t want to resolve was stupid.
your friend tried taking you out today to get your mind off of the situation. it was going well, up until you walked into your favorite cafe.
you were met with a face you were too familiar with. rin’s. his eyes widened in disbelief and he twitched, almost as if he was about to run after you. and so you and your friend took one good look at him and immediately left. if the argument was going to be resolved, it wasn’t going to be in a public cafe.
your friend pushed you by the shoulders as you both shuffled out of the doors, you pulling out your phone to find another place to go to at the same time.
“shit.” was the only thing that rin had managed to mutter out as he saw the two of you running away from the cafe. it’s not that he wanted to avoid you. it’s that he was ashamed. he was scared that nothing he would say would amount to enough of an apology for what he said.
rin was scared that this was the end of you two. his worst fears of losing the one person he knew loved and understood him were coming true and is was his fault. the past few days were filled with doubt and regret, his teammates even noticing his practices were depleting.
the rest of the day came and went, your friend dropped you off back at your apartment where you collapsed on the couch, left with your thoughts once again. you were about to just pass out on your couch and ditch work the next morning, like you have been for the past few days.
that was until you heard a frantic knock on your door, jolting you awake. your worried expression dropped to one of annoyance and bitterness; it was rin. but, he looked different. his usually blank expression was now one of exhaustion and hurt.
he’d been..crying?
your eyes widened in confusion, you opened your mouth to tell him to leave before he cut you off.
“i’m sorry” he blurted out
he was looking down to you, except it was much different than before. rin looked desperate, his eye contact only further confirmed it.
he reached his hand out to place it on your shoulder, hesitating. you opened the door to let him in, sitting on the edge of your couch next to each other.
“i’m so sorry [name].”
“i know.”
“it was stupid, you mean so much to me and i..i ruined it.”
“i know.”
“please, you don’t need to forgive me now i just…”
he paused. rin’s head moved to look at the ground.
“i just need to know you won’t leave me. you can ignore me for as long as you’d like and i’d understand. but just…please i need you back” he begged, small tears brimming at his eyes, what a rare sight to see.
silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t like the comfortable silences you’ve shared before. it was tense and awkward.
“okay” your voice was barely above a whisper, “i won’t leave you, i think we both know that” you say with a smile.
rin looked back up at you, eyes wide, full of hope and relief.
“but listen i…” the moonlight only further highlighted just how much the two of you had been crying
“it’s gonna take some time. that was really fucked up, you know that?”
“yeah..yeah i know. i’m sorry. you’re nothing like her i-”
“i know.”
the two of you were now looking at each other, faces flushed from crying and relief. the silence was comfortable again.
“let’s just..go to sleep, yeah? we can talk about it in the morning, i think we both could discuss better afterwards” you offered, leaning closer to the armrest of your couch as you were too tired to go to your bed
rin hummed back in response, laying on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. your hands found their way to his hair, heartbeats practically synchronizing.
“you know..i’m still not going to your game” you whispered, peeking one eye open to watch your boyfriend. he smiled, “i know” a laugh spilled out of his mouth before you both fell asleep.
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk#bllk x reader#angst#comfort#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#bllk rin#✩ vie writes
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Atta Girl | J.M.
Pairing: Joel Miller x plus size f!reader
Synopsis: Joel loves your body just as much as you do and shows you how much he can’t get enough of you.
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni! Porn with very little plot, reader is plus size & hardly insecure but has a moment where she asks if Joel is sure he wants her to ride his face, face riding, Joel squeezes you everywhere, praise, a little degrading if you squint at the end, spanking, light choking, Joel telling you what to do, dirty talk, pet names (baby doll, bunny, etc) pull out method to make you a toaster strudel hehe, Joel calls himself daddy like one time, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex, readers hair is long enough to pull. Let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 1.9K || A/N: I just want all my plus sized babies to know they are beautiful and Joel Miller would fuck you so hard he’d leave whipped and wanting more. This was a request I received and as a plus sized girl myself, I wanna see more positive stories about the reader already loving her body. I’m nervous posting this, but fuck it here we go!
Splitting wood for the fireplace wasn’t something you enjoyed whenever it needed to be done. Joel wasn’t around since he was on patrol duty and wasn’t sure if he’d be back before the sun went down behind the mountains in Jackson, meaning it was in fact your turn to chop wood. Not wanting to get any of your shirts dirty with mud, you thought it would be a great idea to wear one of his many flannels. Now, they didn’t hang off your body and that was okay, he actually enjoyed the way you’d tie the material up about halfway over your tummy, letting your breasts push together just a tad by the knot.
That’s how you ended up in the back of your shared cabin with Joel, sweat coating your forehead and your chest glistening in the late evening sun. Grunting with every split of wood and a chunk flying off the stump, you were almost to the end of the pile when the small screen door attached to the porch swung open, your worn out and starved man coming outside into the yard. Joel's hands went to his hips and his head dropped as he chuckled, looking back up at you. “The hell are ya doin’ sweet girl? I told you I was gonna do this when I got back from patrollin’.” His face slightly changed when he noticed his shirt tied up and pushing your breasts together just enough for him to forget how to speak.
Holding the axe in one hand and brushing off your dirt stained hands onto your jeans that were hugging your hips deliciously, you shook your head quickly and looked back at him as if he said something completely crazy. “No, no I’m more than capable of chopping wood for our fireplace in our house, Joel. It’s not a big deal, it’s just another shirt you lose.” You poke fun at him as you squat down to gather the pieces when you could hear the faintest groan from Joel behind you.
His head was spinning and landed in dark waters that flooded his mind with vile and unholy thoughts about you. He was watching your jeans get tighter around your ass as you squatted down, they were almost becoming a second skin to you. Those were the jeans he loved to see you in because they hugged your curves in all the places he loved the most- everywhere.
“If you stare any harder you’re going to burn holes into my ass, Joel.” You snark and stack up a few pieces of wood in your arms to start heading to the screen door. He snaps out of the trance your plump ass had him in and makes it to the door before you and holds it open, allowing you to walk in before him. He wanted more time to watch your hips swing with every step you take but also he was a southern gentleman at heart, so holding doors open for you wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“Baby I’m sorry I jus’ can’t help it. You’re so sexy and I just can't can’t stop staring at the way your jeans fit ya. The way your shirt rides up and shows off your back a lil bit.” He whispered into your ear as you stood still for a second, his hands grabbing your plush hips, thumbs brushing over the soft skin that was peeking under the shirt that was riding up. A smirk plastered on your face, you continued on your way to the fireplace that was empty of wood and got down on all fours, starting to toss wood into the hole. Right on queue, Joel leans against the wall of the living room, watching your ass rock back and forth as the pile next to you dwindles down rapidly. The way your thighs pressed against each other like perfect puzzle pieces had his jeans getting tighter and tighter, his cock getting harder with every second passing by. Your breasts were practically spilling from your tank top with you bent over, a true sight for Joel to remember the next time he needed something to think about when he was alone. With no words spoken, Joel walks over towards you and kneels behind you and runs his hands over the curve of your ass, grunting slowly.
“You’re so beautiful, jus’ wanna pin you down right here and make you feel so good, honey.” His words shoot tingles all the way down your back and before you knew it, you were arching your back a little more, wiggling your ass in front of him.
“Who, me?” You innocently ask, tossing the rest of the wood inside the fireplace. Joel’s hands grab your hair gently and give a little tug, nudging you to stand up on your knees. One of his hands wraps around your stomach to hold you close, squeezing you against him.
“Yes, you. Want ya to plant this beautiful pussy on my face and don’t stop ridin’ until I can’t breathe.”
“Are you sure about that cowboy? I’ll do it, I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He scoffed and grabbed your squishy cheeks, pinching them together.
“Stop that right now, you hear me? There’s no way you could hurt me. Now, take off your fuckin’ jeans and panties and put your pussy on my face.”
You hastily get out of your jeans and panties, tossing them over by the corner and Joel wiped his face in complete awe, your curves on full display for him to scan over closely. “I can almost taste you already baby doll, fuck.” Joel rips off his shirt and lays on the couch, resting his head right on the arm rest. “Climb up here and get comfy, darlin’. I’m not stoppin’ until you’re beggin’ me to stop.” He pats the cushion on the side of his head and grins like he won the lottery and to him he did. He was about to have his way with you and tear you apart. You crawl over to the couch and kiss his side, making your way up his chest messily and to his lips, his firm hands grabbing your round face to hold you closer. “Cmon now I’m not gettin’ any younger and I’m starvin.” He growls and yanks you from the floor, giving your ass a good smack, feeling it jiggle under his hand.
With his help you climb up and hover over his face, nervous to rest your full weight on him. His strong arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you down onto him, his lips connecting to your clit instantly. His tongue licked up your juices and twirled circles around your bud, his eyes shutting in bliss. Your fingers tugged at the salt and peppered hair under you and your back arched deeply, moaning his name breathlessly. “Joel oh my god, fuck that’s so damn good, don’t stop.” Reaching behind your back, you unclasped your bra and ditched his shirt, letting your breasts fall from the fabric and into your hands. He was humming under you as he moved his face from side to side, still licking and sucking on your clit. Your hips move back and forth on his face, his grip tightening around your thighs, bringing out your whimpers from deep inside you. “Atta girl, ride my face like that.” His words vibrate against your pussy and you grind against his face faster, just on the brink of cumming.
Before you could let go on his face, he pulled you down off the back of the couch and took off his pants and boxers, bending you over the armrest of the couch his head was just on.
Joel’s hand collides with your plump ass once more before he spreads your cheeks apart, burying his cock inside your hole with a throaty groan.
You cry out his name and hang your head, his hands coming around and grabbing handfuls of your breasts. He squeezes tightly as he begins to thrust in and out, moaning how good you feel wrapped around him. Joel pushes down on the middle of your back and runs his hand up your side, “Bet you like that huh, my cock deep inside you poundin’ away so hard it makes you think about nothin’ but my hips smackin’ against your perfect ass.” He grabs a handful of your ass cheek and groans out your name once more.
“Fuck yeah I do, baby. I love the way you tear me up from the inside out and make me so dick dumb and fucked out, all that’s on my mind is being a slut for you.”
Your filthy mouth gets him going once more, drawing out more moans from him than before. His arms wrap around your soft tummy and flip you over, laying you down gently on your back against the couch cushions. You reach down and grab his cock, shoving it deep inside you once more so he can start fucking you again. Joel smirks at your eagerness and licks his lips quickly just at the mere sight of you shoving yourself full of his cock.
“Such an eager lil thing huh? Can’t wait a few seconds f’me to do it, you gotta do it yourself?”
“I love the way you feel inside me Joel, can’t get enough of you. Fuck, please don’t stop.”
Joel’s warm hand presses down on your velvety abdomen, keeping you right where he wanted you. He leans down and presses his face against your supple breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple while he thrusts harder inside you, trying to get you to beg for him to slow down. His free hand moves to your other nipple and pinches it a few times before grabbing the entire pillowy breast, squishing it in his hand.
“Fuck- bunny I’m not gonna last much longer, not with your body lookin’ so damn good the way it does. You’re squeezin’ around my cock and you know that drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” He grunts against the shell of your ear and nuzzles his face into your neck, his hair brushing against your cheek. As your face contorts with pleasure, you can feel yourself about to cum all over his cock. “Yeahhh jus’ like that for me sweet girl, cum on daddy’s cock like a good girl, I can feel it. Jus’ let go all over me baby.” He pants into your neck and grabs your hair as your legs shake, cumming all over him. Your screams of his name and curse words echo throughout the living room and you swear your neighbors could hear you loud and clear. Joel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, indicating he wasn’t going to last much longer. Sitting up slowly, he pulls out from your tight entrance and cums all over your tummy, groaning everything under the sun that he could think of. As he milked himself empty on you, you giggled at the pool of cum dribbling down your sides. Joel throws his head back trying to catch his breath as he sits down in the seat next to you, his eyes still closed from the euphoria of unloading all over his girl. “Jus’ give me a second and I’ll get a rag to clean you up and getcha some water baby. Fuck, you are somethin’ else.” he joked and kissed the top of your hand tiredly.
#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x you#joel miller fic#joel smut#tlou hbo#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal
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The Only Exception - extended cut
Pairing: Michael Berzatto x fem!reader - Carmen Berzatto & fem!reader
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxic family dynamics, smut 18+ (groping, male receiving oral, penetration, unprotected sex, facial cumshot), canon death, angst and fluff.
A/N: I wrote something a tad bit sadder and decided not to post it because the episode (s2 ep 6) was bad enough but why not? Dedicated to my lovely friend @spiderispunk. No beta cause I don’t wanna. Ignore all spelling errors. Hope y'all enjoy. Credits to the gif creator.
Nothing ever goes smoothly with the Berzatto’s.
Why you thought this holiday dinner was going to be any different was beyond any rational comprehension.
Trying not to be a complete klutz and ruin the side dish you’ve been working on the entire day, you delicately balance it in your left hand while adjusting your scarf tighter around your neck with your right. Putting a pep in your step, you round the corner from where you parked, spotting the stoop instantly.
It was a rare sighting to see all three of the Berzatto siblings together. With Carmy being away at culinary school, Mikey doing his own thing with the restaurant and Natalie living her life, one person always missed the other. It warmed your heart to see just how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t show it in a normal or healthy way.
“Is that who I think it is?” Mikey’s voice booms over the light traffic passing by, handing Carmy the cigarette he was puffing on.
You crack a smile, despite it feeling like your lips were stuck together due to the cold weather. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. Fuckin’ cat had my keys.”
“How many times did I tell you to get rid of the cat?” Mikey leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, forcing him to peck you on the cheek instead.
“C’mon, baby.” he drawls, throwing you a bashful smile.
You huff out a sigh, lowering your voice. “You know I hate the smoking.”
Mikey nods, face fading into something serious before vanishing. “I know you do. You didn’t bring fish, did you?”
Side-stepping the tall Berzatto, you get pulled into a hug by Natalie, followed by Carmen.
“Hello, gorgeous! It’s so good to see you!” Natalie kisses you on both cheeks before making the move to grab the dish out of your hands. You pull back, shooting her a look.
“Nat, please. I got it.”
“Are you sure?” you watch as her bottom lip quivers a bit. You steal a glance at Carmy, who just shakes his head..
“Fuck. How bad is it?” you gaze at the disheveled trio, awaiting an answer.
Finally, Mikey breaks the silence.
“It’s at a five. Six, at best.”
You lick your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. “That’s not too bad, right?”
“Right.” Carmy agrees, with Natalie humming in agreement.
“Just don’t fucking ask if she’s doing ok.” Mikey glimpses at his sister, placing hand on your lower back to guide you into the house.
You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, plastering a smile on your face before entering the shit show.
You’d only been there an hour and you were called the wrong name three times, objectified, cursed at and now Fak was trying to get you to put up five hundred dollars for baseball cards.
Listening with great intent, nodding at all the right times, twirling the wine in glass in your hands desperately wanting to get another refill had your social energy spent.
“We could make you a lot of money, cousin.” Fak goes on, nudging his brother for support.
“Yeah-yeah! Think about what you could do with fifteen hundred bucks! Cold hard cash!” Theodore chimes in.
“Wow, no, yeah this-this sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.” you murmur. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved Fak. His personality was infectious, you’ve never seen him get overly angry despite the other guys giving him shit and he genuinely goes out of his way to help everyone. Back when you first started dating Mikey and moved apartments in the city, Fak volunteered to make sure your place was in tiptoe shape and refused payment.
Just then Steve, Michelle’s husband, passes by and you seize your opportunity.
“Steve! How are you?” you beckon him over, scooting over on the tiny couch so he could sit beside you.
“Ah, yes. Mikey’s girl who we aren’t sure how he managed to snag. Good to see you again.”
You brush off his comment with a tired smile, gesturing to Fak and his brother. “So, these guys have a proposition for you, right?”
You nod enthusiastically with them, giving Fak a secret wink.
“Oh, yes! Yes! Do you like baseball cards, Steve?”
“On that note,” you stand up and maneuver yourself out the nook. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Leave you gentlemen to handle business.”
Mocking a military salute, you dash towards the kitchen bypassing other members of the family.
Donna flurries around the kitchen, shouting instructions to no one in particular. You didn’t greet her as soon as you came in, knowing how she gets around this time of the year. To be honest, you were sure that she didn’t exactly like you.
“Donna, my goodness! You look wonderful.” you lay the complement on sweetly, smiling brightly. If you don’t wilt in her presence, she wouldn’t be able to smell the fear on you.
Donna swivels her head to look at you, cigarette dangling from her lipstick smeared lips. Eyes lined in thick mascara, her disapproving expression ripples through you. You smile wider.
“I brought over a little casserole. I figured it would compliment the fish nicely.”
Shifting to face you fully, Donna crosses her arms. “Casserole? What casserole?”
You point to the tin foiled dish. “That one. Mikey brought in, did he not tell you?”
She scoffs. “Yeah, just like he told me about him breaking things off with what’s her name.”
“Anna.” you mutter, swallowing the lump that quietly made its way up your throat.
“Yeah, Anna.” Donna turns back to the task at hand, haphazardly swinging a knife about. “I liked her better.”
Forgoing your much desired glass of wine, you stalk out of the kitchen. On the outside looking in, the Berzatto’s appeared to be your average family. The warm glow of the lights shining out into the frost covered sidewalks invited you in all those years ago and once inside, you then realized why people were so hesitant to accept invites or why Mikey refused to bring up his past.
You didn’t have this growing up. Your family life was much quieter, mom and dad both kept to themselves. Distant cousins never visited for the holidays and you were an only child so there weren’t any siblings to fall back on.
It was boring.
Drove you crazy.
So when the Berzatto’s welcomed you in with open arms (well, some of them) you threw yourselves to the wolves willingly. It helped you grow a thick skin, talk over people and man handle the biggest guys in the room. For that, you were thankful.
A hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, dragging you away from everyone and up the stairs. Mikey is headstrong in his quest to get you alone, not caring to see if you were keeping up the pace. You both stagger inside his room, the door shut soundly behind you, followed by the lock turning.
Mikey doesn’t give you a second to react, mouth leaving open tongued kisses along your jaw and collarbone, hands working at tugging up your skirt.
“Mikey, baby, baby, wait-” you plead, backing up to create space between the two of you.
He flops onto the bed, hands on his knees, fingers raking through his hair again and again.
You’re careful as you sit next to him, scratching your own fingers along the center of his back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” is all he utters.
“Bullshit. Talk to me.”
He doesn’t have to say anything else, you get it. The party continues below you both, profanities and insults flying like it's nobody's business. It was too much. For Mikey, Camry, anyone. The more time you spent with his family, the more you realized why Carmen never came back to visit.
Why Mikey feels trapped.
“I know.” you whisper against his shoulder, mouthing pressing in tiny kisses. You lift his head up with both of your hands, cradling his face gingerly. The tiredness exudes for nearly every crevice, eye bags worn and solidified. You use your thumb to smooth out his forehead, laughing softly when he wrinkles it more.
“You’ll always have me, Berzatto.”
“I don’t deserve you. Never did.”
You tut. “That’s not true. You’ve always had me. From the moment you sold me that greasy, sloppy sandwich down at The Beef. I was a goner.”
Mikey chuckles, leaning into your hands more. “I got you something.”
Your eyes go wide, brows forming a skeptical look. “Is that so?”
Mikey flickers his eyes down to his pants and you scoff.
“Wow, Michael. Are you gifting me your penis? Again? I must’ve been too nice this year.” you gently slap his face is mock anger.
“Haha,” he deadpans. “Try my pockets, detective wiseass.”
You let go of his face and rummage through his pants pocket, producing a ball of torn tissue paper, kept together by a single piece of tape. Confused but curious, you unwrap the gift, facing dropping as your eyes find his.
The tissue tumbles to the ground, revealing a necklace. At the bottom of it dangled a charm of…cheese?
“I remember the first day you came into the shop. Like a goddamn bat outta hell. Never seen anything like it. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and asked for, um, what was it?”
“Havarti-”
That’s right! Fuckin’ havarti cheese! What the hell even is that?”
“How do you own a sandwich shop and not provide a variety of cheeses, I don’t understand it.”
Mikey gawks at you. “Babe, we’re called The Beef. Not the cheese. But you wanna know what I did?”
You encourage him to finish, as if you didn’t know the rest of the story.
“I told you to wait and-and I was gonna go check in the back. I booked it out of the back door, all the way down to Malik’s corner store and bought the most expensive cheese he had. I rush back to the shop and guess what?”
“You made the sandwich.”
Mikey’s face cracks into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I made the goddamn sandwich. Brought it out to you myself. Told you that we didn’t serve grilled cheese but for you, I’d make an exception.”
Your eyes well over in tears and you blink rapidly to keep them from falling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, ya know.”
“You’re telling me all I had to do was buy you some cheese to get in your pants? Hot damn.”
You playfully shove Mikey back against the bed, crawling over to straddle him. “Well, it worked after a while, didn’t it?”
Mikey thrusts upwards, growing erection sliding against your damp underwear.
“It sure did.”
He grabs the back of your neck, surging up to slot his mouth against yours. You aren’t delicate in the way you claw at him, nails digging into his tanned flesh. Pushing up your skirt, Mikey palms your ass, stroking it before landing a hard smack against it. You moan into his neck, biting down.
“Perkiest ass I’ve ever seen, baby, shit.” Mikey groans, voice an octave deeper.
“And it’s yours. All yours.”
Mikey secures the back of your head as he flips the two of you over, pushing you down on your stomach. You do the rest of the work for him, sticking your ass up, and curving your back into an arch.
Mikey readily pulls down the zipper of his pants, hands readjusting his briefs until he is able to free himself. Spitting obscenely in his palm, Mikeuy shoves your panties to the side and rubs his silvia across your slickness. You buck back into him, whimpering when he graces you with a lone finger to loosen you up. You whine, and wiggle your ass some more, ready to receive all that he was going to give you.
“Gonna give my baby what she wants, don’t you worry.” Mikey purrs, aligning himself to enter you. He slides in easily, the strained sigh as he fully situates him inside you never ceases to make you wetter.
You pull yourself up so that you were resting on your hands, peeking over your shoulder to catch a gaze at Mikey as you being to fuck him. He was enthralled at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you, the way you were able to handle him without saying a single word.
He would love to take his time and thoroughly explore your cunt but time is of the essence. Wrapping his right hand around your neck once again, he yanks you up into a deeper arch, left hand on your hip in a deathgrip. He meets your thrusts with his own, dropping his left leg down on the floor to gain some balance.
Between the familial bickering creeping up the stairs, all that could be heard was the squelching of your pussy and the labored breathing of Mikey, muffled praises spurring you on further.
He slaps your ass again and you tighten around him, eyes rolling to the top of your head as you attempt to hold onto his arms for dear life.
“Mikey, oh fucking god, baby you’re gonna make me come so hard. Please, please, please!”
He answers you by sticking his fingers in your mouth and you automatically clamp down on them, sucking and gagging until spit dribbles down the side of your mouth.
Mikey picks up speed and the line breaks as you reach your peak, legs stiffening as you rear back against Mikey. He continues to fuck, albeit at a slower tempo, humming as you spasm against him.
“That’s my girl, my favorite fucking girl. Where do you want mine, huh? Tell me where you want it.”
He removes his fingers and lets them trail down to tease and pick at your hardened nipples that now poke through your shirt.
“I wanna taste. Want it in my mouth.”
“Fuck.” Mikey lets you go and you catch yourself before you fall completely face first into the bed.
“Get on your knees, now.”
You do as you're told, scurrying to position yourself on your knees in front of Mikey. Mouth open and head tilted back, you let a hand caress your breast as the other slithers up his thigh.
Mikey is affectionate as he goes to grab the back of your head, other hand tirelessly stroking his cock. A vein pops out of forehead as he grunts, a few milky droplets coating your face, before steady ropes accompany it. A few of them land in your mouth and you swallow them all eagerly.
Mikey tries to calm his breathing, watching you with hooded eyes as you lick at the tip of his cock, cleaning up the remnants of yourself off of him. You take him down all the way to the shaft for shits and giggles, pulling off of him with a low pop.
“Goddamn devil.”
You wink, swiping at the mess you could feel dripping on your face. Mikey helps to clean you up, both fixing each other’s clothes to appear less wrinkled. Seemingly ok with your appearance, you start to head downstairs but Mikey stops you.
He steps behind you, lifting up the necklace he got you. He fastens it, walking to your front to admire it.
You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth for a kiss.
“It’s you and me, Berzatto.”
“You and me.”
Inhaling heavily, you open the door to reenter the Berzatto family chaos, a new found confidence lighting your path.
That was roughly four years ago.
Or maybe five.
You stopped counting.
You had been going about your day as usual, still getting settled into your new apartment. Boston was a whole new monster to wrangle with but you managed to get by so far. It didn’t feel like home but you figured over time, it would. A lie that spun around and around in your head until it sounded like a foreign language.
The invitation throws you off guard as you thumb through your mail, ignoring the pile of bills for the yellow envelope sealed with a stamp of a bear.
Your hands twitch a little as you instantly drop everything else you were holding onto the overly crowded dining table. You don’t think twice as you rip the stamp off, clawing to get the card out.
Missing you. The Bear opens soon, I’d love to have you come out for a pre-opening. Hoping that you’re doing well in Boston, we have so much to catch up on. My number is still the same.
See you soon - Sugar
P.s. - Fak says hi.
The bottom of the card details the information for the restaurant and the date of the opening. You bite at your lip, glancing around your apartment. It was a dream: your new job, the neighborhood, the coffee shop down the block with the best matcha latte. It was quiet, not complicated and yours. All yours.
Going home, back to the place you ran from seemed stupid. Everything would unravel and you’d fall to pieces again but this time no one would be there to put you back together.
Reaching across the mess, you fish out your laptop. This was a reunion worth unraveling for.
You’re late. So fucking late. It wasn’t your fault though! The plane got delayed and then there was the traffic and you smelled like an airport and desperation so you rushed to the hotel to change. One thing always leads to another but it didn’t matter anymore because you were stepping out of the taxi, smoothing down your coat and anxiously fixing your hair.
You take powerful strides as you approach the restaurant, mouth agape. You couldn’t believe it. What used to be The Beef, the place you spent the majority of your time after work fucking with Richie until Mikey got off, was gone. It was now replaced with a groomed, streamlined, chic replica that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the rest of the block.
A car horn sounds and you’re brought back to reality, invitation gripped tightly in your hand. You mumble one last prep talk to yourself before pushing the door open.
A wave of amber and vanilla hit your nostrils first, eyes picking out the candles that were placed around the dining area. The place wasn’t packed but you knew this was because you were late and not because it wasn’t good. If you knew anything about Carmen and his career, it was that the fucker knew how to make good food. He just didn’t know that he did.
A woman clad in all black smiles as she walks up to you, a slight quizzical look on her face.
“Forgive me ma’am but I’m afraid that this is a private event. The restaurant will open to the public soon.”
You shake your head, waving the letter in front of her face. “Oh, I was, uh, invited. I’m so sorry I’m late, my plane-”
Richie strides out of the kitchen, stopping in his tracks once he sees you.
“Holy fucking shit.”
You couldn’t help the amused grin that crosses your face, taking in the new and improved Richie. You hate to admit it but he looks good. Tapered cut, fitted black suit, not too heavy on the cologne and simple accessories to match? What the hell did you miss?
“Holy fucking shit.” you whisper, voice morphing into a high pitched squeal as Richie hugs you, lifting you off the ground.
Upon putting you down, you stand back, motioning wildly at Richie’s figure.
“Oh my god! Are you in a cult? Did they brainwash you? Will the real Richie please stand up.” you clap in front of Richie’s face a few times, to which he swats away.
“A real fucking comedian, huh?” He pulls you into a hug again, inhaling your scent.
“How have you been, cousin?”
Richie pulls away, leading you to a fully set table. You thank him as he pulls out your seat, taking the one across from you. He shrugs at the question, gaze traveling around the restaurant.
“Been busy. Bustin’ my balls to keep this place in tiptop shape.”
You nod, momentarily distracted by a server filling up your wine glass. You pick it up and take a whiff, eyebrow raised. A classic white. Your favorite.
“This is really nice, like, I expected something but this,” you take a moment. “This is something else entirely.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Richie admires you as you sip your wine and continue to look around, getting washed over in nostalgia. He remembers the good days. The days were Mikey was happy, the two of you bantering while making dinner for him, Eva and Tiffany. You were making sure he stayed the course, keeping him sober. Then, for whatever reason he just couldn’t fucking understand, it collapsed. He lost everything he never really had in the first place.
Natalie barges from the back of the house a few seconds after, screaming at the top of her lungs the second she sees you. You both speak over each other, holding each other tightly and taking turns petting Natalie’s stomach.
“Oh my god, Nat! You’re going to be a mom!” you exclaim, hands pressed on the sides of your face.
Natalie sighs, tears falling. “I’m gonna be a mom!”
“I can’t fucking believe it.”
“Neither can I. It just sort of happened.”
You nod, plopping back down in your seat while Richie gets out of his, helping Natalie sit in it instead.
“Cousin, I’m gonna get your order sorted. I’ll be right back.” Richie announces, planting a kiss on Sugar’s head before disappearing to the kitchen.
“It’s been like four years?” you say, gauging Sugar’s expression. You didn’t mean for her to get caught up in your mess once you moved away but she was the only constant reminder of Chicago that you had and you were thankful. The eldest and only daughter syndrome really popped off with her.
It’s amazing how easy you’re able to flow back in conversation with her. You catch up with each other’s lives, tiny bits of gossip filling the cracks. You avoid bringing up Donna, not wanting to tamper Natalie’s mood as she happily chatters about the nursery. Dinner feels like old times and before you realize it, you were scraping your finger across the dessert plate to savor the sweet tanginess of the course.
“Where’s Carmy? I’d like to congratulate the man of the hour.” you wipe your hands with your napkin, polishing off your wine.
Sugar rocks her jaw, eyes cast downwards. You knew the two of them had a somewhat strained relationship but you figured since she decided to work with Carmy, things had settled between the two of them.
“He should be in the kitchen cleaning or probably out back smoking a cigarette. Filthy.”
You hum, sliding out from behind the table. You peck Sugar on the cheek and stroll through the kitchen, murmuring hello’s to those you haven’t seen in a while.
Sugar’s assumptions are true, Carmy perched on the concrete near the dumpster. He does a double take when he sees you but doesn’t get up from his spot.
You’re careful as you sit next to him and upon seeing that you’re wearing a dress underneath your coat he panics, trying to stop you before it’s too late.
“Hey, no, you don’t need to sit down here, we can go back inside-”
“Carmen, sit down. Please.”
Carmen nods and joins you. You dig around your coat pocket for your vape, taking a long drag before exhaling.
You two smoke in a comfortable silence for a while. Carmen was your favorite in this regard, knowing that around him you didn’t have to say anything. You could just shut the fuck up and enjoy each others presence.
Carmy nudges his knee alongside yours. “You think he would’ve liked this?”
You ponder on it a little, taking another hit from your pen. “You definitely would’ve fought over the menu. And where is the poster?”
“What poster?”
“The poster, Carmen.”
“What fucking poster? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“The goddamn baseball poster! You know the one. It was in the office before, I think.”
“Oh, that one. Yeah, Sydney fell through the wall, tore a hole in it.”
You scoff, taken aback by Carmy’s nonchalant response. “Fell through a wall?”
“Yes but don’t worry. Richie taped it back together.”
“Fuck the poster, Carmy, how is Sydney?”
Carmen shrugs. “She’s good. Makes a good partner.”
You nod, staring back at the restaurant. “She managed to pull this shit out of your ass, color me impressed.”
Another beat.
“Hey,” you move your legs so that you are leaning against Carmy, huddling against his shoulder. “I want to apologize.”
Carmy takes the bait. “For what?”
“For leaving. I just ran. Didn’t say goodbye, didn’t look back. You didn’t deserve that. None of you did. Mikey fucking ruined me. I felt selfish though, you know? Cause I was just someone he dated but you, Sugar, Richie..y’all were his blood.”
You feel Carmy take a deep breath, head drifting over to the side so that it rests on top of yours. “You don’t need to apologize for that. You were his fucking heart, he talked about you all the time it was annoying as shit. Plus, everybody runs.”
“You didn’t.”
Carmy glares at the restaurant. “Not sure I can agree with you on that.”
“After Mikey, I just felt like I failed, you know? I tried so hard. I did. I thought we made it over the rough parts but just like that, he slipped. I couldn’t pick him up anymore.” you pluck at your legs, getting stuck in your thoughts.
“You didn’t fail him.” Carmy mumbles.
“Neither did you.”
For once, Carmy lets the words settle in his chest, soothing the frightened side of him that constantly tells him he’s not good enough. It was temporary, he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from indulging in the sentiment.
“You could stay, you know. I could take care of you.”
Camry’s offer catches you off guard and you untangle yourself from him to look in his eyes. Behind them you could see the Carmy you once knew. It hurt, knowing that he was still torturing himself over the loss of Mikey, grappling with the opening of his restaurant. So much pressure on one person who swore that he couldn’t feel it and wouldn’t dare let anyone help him carry the load.
You smooth his hair back, giving him a sad smile.
“I think it’s time I took care of myself, Carmen. Boston is good. I’m gonna be ok. You need to take care of you, man. Someone’s gotta make sure Richie doesn’t strangle himself with his new ties.”
Carmen laughs and even flashes teeth.
“By the way, what is up with that? Fucker looks like he belongs with the secret service.”
“He was mad about the forks.”
You give a half shrug. “Forks. Yup, got it.”
You weren’t sure what was going to become of The Bear but you knew that if Carmy kept his head on straight, he’d get through all the shit life put him through.
He was a fucking Berzatto.
They never went down without a fight. And god help those who fucked with bears.
#Michael berzatto x reader#Michael berzatto x fem reader#the bear fanfiction#carmy berzatto & reader#carmen berzatto & fem reader#carmy berzatto & fem reader
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⸻ 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰
‘ necio porque no eres mía, mi fruta prohibida ‘
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t stay away from you, even if that means being your sneaky link.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, unrealistic car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating, feelings (left unsaid), fingering, hair pulling, praising, lots of kissing, pet names (cariño, sweetheart, hermosa), phrases in Spanish (no translations, sorry), mentions of reader wearing a cross necklace (not a rosary or any religious reference, but adding it here in case anyone might be bothered by it), no use of y/n. I think that’s all.
a/n: been listening to lots of romeo santos lately and now we have bad bunny’s new album so expect some nasty works from me (as soon as I get a break from uni cause damn). This os is a bit rushed due to my lack of time, but I really wanted to post something, please excuse my mistakes<3
‘ Is it better to feel everything with great depth in comparison to feeling nothing at all? ’
Occasionally, you think it’ll be easier if you could simply turn your emotions off and walk away. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that you won't go back to him, somehow —every so often in the weirdest ways— he always ends up between your legs. On and off, like one torturous, yet perfect loop that keeps bringing you back together.
Although, you were never actually together.
Technicalities, right?
Things were said and done once you started frequenting each other's beds. Above all else, Javier had clearly specified that he didn't want any feelings involved in the matter (primarily due to his job, plus the dangers that came with it) and you had stupidly agreed to that condition. Because honestly, the main reason why you got involved with him in the first place was the way he made your heart flutter, how he could make your skin tingle just with a simple touch and get your knees weak solely by surrounding your personal space.
It was all in vain, nonetheless. He had it for you, too. Badly. Though his realization came hard and late. You stormed into his life and swiped away any thoughts of having an emotionless relationship; your innocent curiosity, the softness of your touch and the brightness in your eyes whenever you'd stare into his soul while being tangled with him all night, all of it somehow carved your way into his heart.
Even if you were already seeing someone else, trying to move on, he'd still be all over you; chasing after you as if having all your attention was some sort of personal whim of his. The worst part? You'd give in every single time, surrendering yourself to him after putting up little to none resistance.
"Javier, this needs to stop..." were your words actually meaningful if you uttered them between kisses?
His hands coast up your thighs, delicately rubbing the flesh as his lips roamed along your jawline. "Why?" he sighed, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck.
"Why?" you mimic him, propping your weight up with both palms to his chest, slightly pushing him back. "You fucking know why."
The agent straightens his posture on the backseat of his jeep, forcing you to readjust your position on top of him. He takes a deep gulp of air whilst staring up at you with low, darkened eyes.
One thing was crystal clear: he had you right where he wanted you. His aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head, crowning his messy hair; the black shirt was ruffled from you tugging at it, a couple of buttons loose. His unsteady breathing and plump lips almost made him appear needy, if it weren't for the firm grip he had on your upper legs and the wide hunger his gaze reflected. Your yellow sundress had ranked up your thighs and the denim material of his jeans felt a tad uncomfortable beneath you. All that could be heard inside the car –parked somewhere next to an incautious road– was the storm happening outside and a song they were playing on the radio.
"Oh, yeah..." he chuckled sardonically. "I forgot I'm now your boy toy."
There was a bittersweet note on his voice despite the joking tone. "Shut up, asshole. It's not like I was ever anything different to you."
He muffled a laugh, his fingertips lingering on your feverish skin. The air inside the car was cold, contrasting with the warm heat of your bodies. Javier couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation; about how you couldn't believe that you meant anything more than a sweet time to him, when in reality, the few moments you spent together were the only ones where he could feel genuine joy. His hand comes up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.
"You think very low of me, preciosa." Oh, if only he knew.
"I wish I did. That would surely make things easier." He shakes his head, holding back laughter.
"Does he know?" your brows knit together in confusion, shocked by the sudden question and the mention of the other guy.
"Know what?" you asked with a quizzical expression.
His big palm lowers to your neck, the other one sneaking under the hem of your dress, all the way up to your hip and setting on your lower back. "About me."
You tsked, rearranging the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure there's anything he needs to know about you, Peña."
He smirks, charming as ever. "How about the reason why you keep coming back to me?" The pads of his fingers rub soothing circles along your spine, all the while his eyes swallow you whole. "I don't mind being second in line as long as your frontman knows how to treat you properly."
"You're talking nonsense," you run your hands through his locks, brushing the hair out of his face. "You think you're any better?"
"Oh, cariño. I know I am." If it weren't for the confidence in his voice –as if he spoke freely and unquestionably–, you'd probably be laughing. "I'm sure everyone knows." His index and middle fingers trace your collarbones in light, feathery touches and slowly slide down your chest, avoiding the chain around your throat. "And if he doesn't, be sure to tell him."
A shiver runs throughout your body when his thumb sweeps across your sensitive nipple over the flimsy fabric of your dress. The hand on your lower back moves to press you firmly against him, grinding your lower body on top of his and pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.
"Javi..." you can't muster up the words nor the courage to push him away before he's kissing all over your neck and shoulders. "God, you're insufferable."
He chuckles, and the sound is not only attractive but contagious, plastering a smile on your face. The thin straps of your dress slide down your arms, making your boobs nearly spill out the front, though neither of you actually care. Both his hands squeeze your ass as he buries his face between your breasts, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin. That, he thought, was something you probably wouldn't want the other guy to see.
You unconsciously started searching for friction, moving your hips in tandem to relieve some of the increasing ache that settled between your thighs. You sighed when his mouth started peppering kisses all over your exposed tits, giving special attention to your hardened nipples. He knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it, your favorite spots and positions; all he needed to do to have you trembling, screaming and begging for more... He knew everything and he boasted on it.
"Oh, you really love me," he mumbles, voice strained with lust as you keep rubbing yourself against him, using him just like he enjoyed best. "Don't you, corazón?"
You pull his hair harshly, forcing him to look at you in the eye, the chain of your necklace colliding against his chin. The gruffly groan that leaves his lips goes straight to your core. Javier loved it when you were a little mean and bossy; it amused him.
"I like you better when you're quiet," you hiss, kissing all over his jaw and licking a long stripe along his throat, taking your time on his Addams' apple and the spot between his neck and shoulder. That, added to the constant, leisured movement of your body against his crotch, had him panting and grunting in seconds.
The sight of pleasure contorting his features as he completely loses himself and starts bucking his hips upwards has you dripping and clenching around nothing. "Fucking lier," he spits out, "you love it when I'm noisy."
He was right, as per usual. But you decided to ignore it. "I'd like you more if you weren't such a cocky bastard. Tal vez así no tendría que buscarme a otro."
A wolfish grin purses his lips and his eyes gleam smugly, "Necia y mentirosa. You're every man's dream."
You lean forward to kiss the crook of his nose, feeling his strong arms enveloping you, guiding your movements just as you both liked best. Your lungs fill with air and you grasp the back of the seat, feeling a certain tension building in the pit of your stomach each time the right amount of pressure was applied to your clit. Javier relished on the way he could make a complete mess of you without even having you naked, his cock twitching in his pants with the mewls that left you; having you all hot and bothered prompted his own excitement.
"Everyone's..." your breath fanned across his cheek as you ducked down towards him, lips so close to each other’s that he could already feel the ghost of their touch on his mouth. "But yours."
If you really believed that, then you were ragingly clueless, for he knew deep down that he'd go to wit's end and back just for you to be happy.
"Especially mine, sweetheart." He doesn't let you reply, swiftly catching your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
It ignited something within you that could only grow bigger and stronger, like a forest fire. An intense feeling that settled in your loins and expanded throughout your body with every touch and every single kiss. It was melting your bones and fogging your brain deliciously. His hand rested on the nape of your neck to hold you close as his mouth explored yours in depth, meanwhile the other slid between your bodies to palm your clothed sex, wet with your arousal.
"Fuck..." he gasps amidst, gliding his index and middle fingers across the soaked fabric, spurring you on.
Despite the fact that he'd done this a dozen times before, the way you'd easily give in to him would always do it for Javier. Your sweet whimpers and ragged breaths were his own sort of addiction, the moans that escaped your lips when moving your panties aside made all his blood rush towards his lower body.
His fingers gather the slick around your entrance and then brings them back to your clit, teasing it with slow, circular motions. He takes his time to play with you, refusing to thrust his fingers in your core and only managing to get you wetter and more desperate by the second, toying with your patience. The moment you try to wriggle, his grip becomes stronger to keep you still, digging his fingertips so strongly that it'll definitely bruise afterwards. At this point you can feel your own arousal smearing on your inner thighs and dripping down his jeans.
"Don't be mean, Peña..." you mumble in complain, your hands wandering over his chest, struggling to keep your mind on track.
"Beg for it," he whispers in your ear. "Be nice and I'll do as you say."
You bite your lower lip to hold back your noises while his fingers drift across your slit. "Please..." you kiss the soft spot behind his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin. "Javi, por favor..."
He hums lowly, pressing his middle and index fingers to your entrance at the same time as he shushes your moans with a kiss. His mouth is all over yours, his tongue running along your lower lip before going past your teeth. You can barely breathe, the feeling of his digits inside you and the sloppy kiss had your head spinning. You're certain that if it wasn't for the rain or the music in the radio you'd definitely be able to hear the sopping sounds of him working on your pussy. Javier curses when your head draws back, not wanting to part from you, the sweet aftertaste of the kiss still lingering on his tongue.
The leather material of the seats cracked each time you moved, and the crystals were starting to mist up from the shock of temperatures. Despite the windows being polarized, the blue, kind of grayish light of today's twilight shone beautifully on your glowing skin, leaving him absolutely mesmerized.
"Do you ever show him this side of you?" he mutters hoarsely, watching you from below as you shut your eyes and claw at his shirt, feeling his thick fingers curling inside, stretching you open. "Does he touch you like I do?" He's quick to find your weak spot and hit it repeatedly, slow and steady at first, bringing back his wet digits to your swollen bud. "Can he fuck you like I do? Please you like I do?"
You shake your head in denial, panting and unable to form any coherent sentences. The warmth between your legs started spreading throughout your belly, thighs quivering and waves of pleasure washing over you.
"Use your words," he coaxes, burying his face on your neck to inhale your perfume, the one that's all over him, his clothes and sheets; like you were marking him as yours. The familiar tickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin, added to the heat and the well-known thickness of his dick underneath you doesn't fail to make your body waver.
"N-no..." you stumble upon your words, "he can't. No one else can... Sólo tú."
"Mhm," Javier kisses your jaw lovingly, the feeling of his chest flushed to yours pushing you over the edge. In that moment, he just knows you're close by the way your cheeks heat up and your brows furrow, as well as how you start squeezing his fingers. "You can come now."
And he didn't need to tell you twice, for you were already falling apart, tugging at his hair and struggling to catch your breath. His hand leaves the apex of your thighs and starts caressing the smooth skin of your back, giving you chills from the dampness of his fingertips. You lay your forehead against his, and with your eyelids hanging low you press a soft kiss to his temple. For a while, you just stay like that in silence, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist and listening to a bolero song playing through the car speakers.
Javier's heart thumps against his ribs whilst the beat reverberates through you in a constant tempo. His natural musk dazes your mind; a mix of cigarettes, fresh soap and manly cologne. The intimacy of everything suddenly sinks in and your lungs swell with all the contained love you had for him, crushing you under its weight. You can't let it crawl back to you, knowing you have to keep it well buried within your bones.
"Javi..." you purr, lips grazing his ear. "I need you."
"Yeah?" his coarse voice makes you shudder. "I'll take care of you, cariño."
You reluctantly break apart form his embrace and, with a playful smile, you decide to take his sunglasses off, carefully tossing them to the passenger's seat. He appeared invested in your game, his prying eyes following your every move. Then, you suddenly grabbed the hem of your sundress with both hands and took it off in a quick move, discarding it somewhere on the floor and leaving you solely in your tiny, ruined underwear and golden necklace. The man in front of you couldn't be any more swoon over your naked body, his brown eyes now blackened with desire.
"Mi niña hermosa," he coed.
Your smile widened as his palm covered the curve of your waist. It's almost as if he's never seen you like this; though the image of your bare skin is something he could never tire of, your beauty being something he'd describe as ethereal, if he were the artistic or poetic type— which he wasn't.
"You're staring," you say, feeling his free hand coming to grope your breast.
"I'm admiring," Javier replies with a grin, thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. "You're a menace, d'you know that? This body and that face of yours... Engañarían a cualquiera." The cool metal of his watch gave you chills when you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. "No one would believe that you let me fuck you senseless in the back of my car."
You giggle at his words, starting to spread kisses on his knuckles, "People would think you've corrupted me."
The pads of his fingers gently pull your lower lip, the same two digits that were previously inside you. He doesn't need to vocalize what he wants you to do, since you immediately pick up on it. Your mouth opens up steadily, allowing him to press both fingers to your tongue. With no hesitation, you eagerly begin to suck and lick at them without breaking eye contact, his heavy gaze looking at you fixedly.
"Perhaps I have," he murmurs rasps out, brushing the hair away from your face with an uncharacteristic delicate demeanor.
Frankly, you are incapable of conceiving how can he have so much power over you, your actions and thoughts. The way he peers at you with close scrutiny and sincere devotion makes you feel like a woman, in all sense of the word. He's aware of it and is not afraid to demonstrate it, to be at your mercy. And it only made you want him more.
You desperately tug at his belt while he drags his fingers from your lips to your chin and neck, letting you do all the hard work. There's an arrogant attitude to him as he merely 'admires' but doesn't go anywhere near as to putting any effort into it; he wants you to work for it, have your fun with him as you please and then let him show you why no other man can reach his level. He’s very aware of the fact that he's the only man whose dick you'd beg to have inside and he wallows in that knowledge, like a bragging child.
"Shit, Javier..." you fumble with his fly, silently pleading for his help while he absentmindedly kneads at your flesh, enjoying the show you're putting on for him. "Work with me, please."
"Anxious, aren't we?" he scoffs, taking your wrist to place your hand on his crotch. "What do you want, cariño?"
"A ti, Javi," the feeling of his cock throbbing at your confirmation only reaffirms how much he loves it when you verbally express your desires. "I want you."
Both his palms rest on your shoulder blades and his face gets closer to yours before talks again, "Then fucking take me."
His voice gave you butterflies and the way he spoke went straight to your core. A muffled moan vibrates in your chest when you reach for the base of his neck and pull him in for an aggressive, frenetic kiss. It's a blur of actions, a clash of tongues and teeth that happens at the same time as your hand sinks to his lower abdomen, swaying over the trail of hair that runs down his mound, with a touch so light that it makes his knees feel like jelly. The warmth and softness of your palm against his length pulls a groan deep from his throat, finally getting to release some of his pent-up tension and get the attention he's been craving from you.
You swipe your thumb across his swollen tip, surprised by the amount of precome that is dribbling and how easy it becomes to stroke him. Javier gasps at the contact, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to breathe. Just like him, you know exactly what he finds most pleasurable. You know his body as well as you know his mind; his pet-peeves and favorites. So freaking close, and yet— so, so incredibly far from his grasp.
"Cariño," he calls out your name in a languid drawl, clutching to your waist, "don't tease."
"Mhm," you're accustomed to the thickness of him, how heavy and long he is. However, it's always nice to feel how easily riled up he gets because you. "Not so fun when it's done to you, is it?" you purposely trace the vein on the underside of his dick and he snarls through gritted teeth, an unrestrained sound that makes you throb.
"Fucking hell-" the chocolate brown in his eyes is entirely consumed by the pitch black of his dilated pupils.
You drag your index along his jawline, slightly lifting his chin to square his gaze with yours. "Come on, big boy. Lift your hips so I can do this properly."
He can't help but laugh. "What now?" he snarks, doing as you say, nonetheless. "You're gonna talk me trough it?"
The man pulls his pants down just enough to give him the sufficient mobility. You don't have the patience to reply to his mockery, though you're sure he'd love it if you did so. Instead, he pushes your panties aside as much as the fabric permits and you glide the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your arousal and the remains of your previous orgasm. His hands are still on your hips but they're simply resting there, giving you the freedom to do as you want.
With a firm grip, you carefully guide him to your entrance and sink down his length, drawing a sharp whine from your lips and a low, depraved moan from him. The stretch he provides always manages to send your mind into oblivion, filling you up so good, to the extent that makes you believe no one ese could fit your body so perfectly. Your mouth falls agape and you clasp his shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded; beads of sweat started rolling down your neck and his temples when you rested your forehead against Javier's, eyes kept firmly shut.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks once you'd manage to sit every last inch of him deep inside you. "Want me to move?"
You shake your head 'no', gazing back at him to meet his preoccupied expression. "I'll do it," you stammer through the haze of rapture. "There's something I want to try."
His brows furrow in genuine confusion and a tad of concentration, but nods either way. Both his palms lay flat on your ass cheeks as you throw your head back and start moving at a leisured pace, biting your bottom lip and tangling your fingers in between his damp curls. You ride him like it's your first time doing so; grinding slowly and calculatedly, barely bouncing and more like swaying your hips rhythmically, feeling his cock nudge that particular spot that has your thighs trembling.
"Fuck-" Javier inhales heavily, using his strong hands to guide your movements without a change of cadence. "Look at you, sweetheart," he coos, his thumb grazing your clit in a very delicate manner that makes you yelp softly, "you look so pretty when you take it."
A wave of heat pools at the base of your spine, prompting you to tug at his hair. "Jesus Christ- you feel amazing..."
Your fingers slither upwards to pinch your nipple, adding to the slick between your legs. He grunts in annoyance, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, ducking his head down to fondle the sensitive area with his tongue. The sounds that leave your mouth have an immediate effect on him, thrusting his hips further into you involuntarily. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as he meets your rhythm with an intensity that makes you dizzy.
"Such sweet noises you make," he praises in between shaky moans. "Oh, fuck-" is followed by a string of curses in spanish, sounding akin to a growl when you clench around him, leaking onto his shaft. "My perfect girl."
Your hands are never steady, roaming across his clothed back, chest and scalp. His on the other hand, hold onto you like his life depended on it— the fervor of it all, the way you call his name as you bear down on his cock and engulf him in your arms is borderline intoxicating. He lays his forehead on your shoulder, overwhelmed by just how good everything feels.
And that awakes something in you. Javier is not the quiet, laid-back kind of lover. Though he does let you take the lead from time to time, he's never surrendered himself to you like he is right now; panting and whimpering beneath you, murmuring adorations against your skin. And it's so hot for some unknown reason. It makes your pussy a dripping mess.
"Javi, look at me," you pull his hair with mild force and he consequently throws his head back, darting his eyes up to meet your stare. The way you keep bouncing on his length makes the dangling cross on your chain hit his chin continuously. None of you actually care. "D'you think I ever do this for him?"
He doesn't answer, but the grip on your waist tightens and his brows knit together. Then, he shakes his head faintly, "No."
Your thighs are starting to feel sore, but you pay no mind to it, still too drunk on the feeling of fullness, the ravishing sensation of his dick stretching you open and hitting all your weak spots effortlessly. "That's right," you pant, pressing your cheek to his temple. "Only you."
He rubs his nose on the side of your face and you can feel the all-too-familiar scratch of his mustache on your flush skin. You breathe him in, his soft hair smelling of sandalwood shampoo. "Only me," he echoes in a gruff, possessive note.
Suddenly, his pace starts picking up and you feel unable to keep up with him, this new sensation nearly making you cry out in euphoria. Javier moves his head enough to press a sweet kiss to your jaw and you glance down at his lips before going back to his lust-blown eyes. His calloused fingers glide to form tight, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he keeps steadily working on your cunt; he muffles your moans with a mere brush of lips that leaves you longing for more.
You cup his face in your hands and lean forward to connect your mouths once again. It's slow at first, filled with fluttering emotions that come bubbling up your chest. You melt in his embrace, your bodies melding together as you explore each other. It's deep and passionate but still controlled; filled with a profound earnest that expresses all that cannot be said between you, but that is throughly felt.
The sensation is positively dazzling, making your heartbeat race like you just ran a marathon. The heat gathers on your lower stomach again, starting to build your second crescendo. His cock throbs inside you when your nails scratch his scalp and the kiss becomes sloppier– wetter. But it isn't the only thing that is. Javier smirks against your lips when he can no longer just feel your slick, but rather hear it too. Each time he snaps his hips, the lewd sounds of your pussy drown any other noise around. It eggs him on.
"Mírate," he forces you to look down at where you're connected and the vision is nothing but obscene. The whole scene being a glistening, sticky mess. "I've truly ruined you for anyone else."
You don't retort, your senses beginning to cloud with every single thrust. You desperately cling to his shirt, your knuckles going numb as he keeps his relentless pace. Faster, harder, deeper. He can tell you're close by the way you wrap around him, how you can't hold back your cries and drop your lips next to his ear.
"Javi, I can't..." you stutter as he soothingly runs his fingers through your hair and your vision becomes blurry.
"It's okay, you've been so good," when he speaks, his voice sounds contorted by his own high overpowering him. "Come for me, baby. I've got you."
And that's all it takes for the coil to finally snap. Your body shivers from head to toe and you go completely limp in his embrace. Your whole world is spinning, feeling slightly lightheaded as your orgasm washes over you. Javier fucks you through it, thrown over the edge by your reaction. He feels your teeth sink mildly into the flesh of his neck and all of the sudden everything in his life comes down to this very moment; all he can perceive, all he knows and cares about right now is you.
As pleasure rushes over him, he whimpers, his hips start to falter and a couple of filthy moans scratch the bottom of his throat. You call his name softly, his head falling back as he reaches his high. He comes in warm, thick spurts inside, coating your walls and spilling from your entrance whilst he works his way through his climax. An odd sense of serendipity overcomes the satisfaction that settles within him when his lungs fill with air and his heartbeat stabilizes slowly.
He hears you murmuring sweet nothings to him, feels your warm, velvety lips spreading kisses on every inch of skin that you can reach. He feels shaky, peaceful and weirdly alive. Your image surges again in front of him, making his chest swell; that characteristic guilt beginning to creep into his system. Deep down, he knows he can't keep doing this to you— holding you back, tying you to him. Though it wasn't entirely his fault.
"¿Qué piensas?" you wonder, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.
Confused, you attempt to move and give him some space, but he cradles you in his arms, keeping you close. Your feel sticky with sweat and his spend dripping down your inner thighs; yet, strangely safe at the same time, letting his cock grow soft inside you.
"I don't..." he talks gently, not directly to you. "I don't wanna let you go."
There's vulnerability in his words, in the way he holds you. "You don't have to."
That's not what I mean, he wants to say. Instead, Javier leaves a tender kiss on your forehead. Push me away. Please, push me away. But you don’t do as he prays for, to his dismay.
“I guess not,” he mutters. “But it’s getting late and I want to take you home before nightfall.”
You reluctantly roll to your side, wincing from the sense of emptiness that comes with the action. “I suppose it’s for the best. I’m going out for dinner tonight, anyway.”
He playfully cocks an eyebrow at you, “With him?” you nod distractedly, taking a box of tissues from the Jeep’s glovebox. “Shit, I might need to fuck you again. Make sure you’re really satisfied and full of my cum when you’re prancing around him.”
You smile, carefully rearranging your clothes. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time.”
In the end, no matter how either of you feel or whatever may happen in the near future, one thing is very certain: you won’t stay apart for long.
#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#javier pena x y/n#javier pena one shot#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier peña#narcos
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Hey uhh, you can ignore this if you want to. I saw some of your posts and uhh I got kinda happy, father figure Miguel has my heart.
And I was wondering, how would Miguel react to the readers first father's day without a father? Like, I can see so many cute scenarios. I know it's late already and you probably will only see this tomorrow when father's day will be over already.
Again, don't feel forced or anything, take some rest, eat and drink water<3
-🍬anon
Miss Him So Much | Miguel O’Hara x Young Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)
Warnings- a tad bit angst kinda
Summary- Your First Father’s Day without your father
Side note- Again I’m sorry for not posting it’s cuz schools startin and I’m like busy gettin stuff for it 😭🤍 (plus I’m literally writing this at 3am when I’m supposed to be up at 8 for orientation tmr LMAO) NOT PROOF READDDDD. SRRY IF ITS SHORT IM RUNNING ON NO HOURS OF SLEEPPP
Miguel watched in silence as you mourned the death of your father. He understood your pain and grief well, having experienced the same loss himself.
Despite his naturally stern exterior, there was a soft spot in his heart for you, a girl who had become the ‘daughter’ he never got to see grow up.
He had practically raised you, taking you under his wing, and teaching you everything he knew, and seeing you suffering in your father’s absence made his heartache. He saw her sadness and wanted to comfort her, but didn't quite know how.
So he stood by, unsure of what to say or do, but offering what little comfort he could in the form of a silent, supportive presence.
"This first father's day without a father hurts more than I imagined," you whispered as tears streamed down your cheeks. "I miss him so much."
Miguel approached you slowly, unsure of what to say or do.
"I know," he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.
Miguel was a man of few words, but he knew how to show empathy and support when needed. His presence was enough to let you know that you weren’t alone in your grief, that he was there for you, no matter how dark things might seem at that moment.
As you cried, Miguel simply stood by, offering his silent support and sympathy.
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel spiderverse#spider man 2099#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#spiderman#miguel x reader#miguel x you#x teen!reader#teen reader#x y/n#spiderman 2099#atsv#platonic#platonic friendships#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o hara#miguel 2099
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More Ways for Hoid to be Tortured
[Includes a spoiler for Tress!]
Hoid has sure had it rough lately. He’s had his memories siphoned off, gotten cursed, even spent some quality time as a coatrack. As @kingjasnah points out in this post, Sanderson is setting a precedent here: we’re all expecting ever new and more hilarious shit to happen to Hoid.
So here are some ideas for ways that Hoid might suffer in future Cosmere books.
1. Trapped in a dimension full of talking bananas...who don’t care about stories
Hoid: And that was the story of the banana who looked up.
Banana 1: [yawning]
Banana 2: Sorry, did you say something? I was thinking about radishes.
Banana 3: I feel so neutral about everything you said!
Hoid: ...I may have found a place nearly as unpleasant as Komashi.
Hoid: Nearly.
2. A new and ever weirder food craving every day.
Hoid: Well, it seems that today I can stomach nothing except mayonnaise-topped pickles.
Design: And you’re sure you’re not pregnant?
3. Trapped on a planet during a time of no plot relevance
Design: Hey, will you look at that!
Design: According to the town newspaper, old lady Dennis FINALLY figured out who’s been eating her lettuce.
Design: Get this--it was a rabbit!
Design: That’s something, right?
Hoid: W-Was it an invested rabbit?
Design: Nope! Just a normal one.
Hoid (sinking further into his turtleneck): I have GOT to get my Luck back.
4. Can only communicate via song...after losing his perfect pitch
Hoid (singing): And thus you should learn, / that if I must, I will let this planet buuuuuuurn!
Design: Your pitch is off by a mere .0005%!
Hoid (singing): And it’s really not fair--this much is true, / that my perfect pitch, went straight to yooooou!
5. Turned into a rat
Rat-Hoid: The worst part is...it’s not even original.
6. De-Aged into a Child
Hoid: It’s not so bad, really.
Hoid: People perhaps don’t take me the most seriously, but then, I was the King’s Wit for a while so I’m used to that.
Hoid: ...I do hear the word “precocious” a lot.
7. De-Aged into a Baby
Hoid: (furiously signing with his fat baby hands) What is this, an isekai?!
Design: Hmmm...I should start a babysitting business.
8. Unable to respond to anyone unless his response rhymes
Design: I love it, to be orange.
Design: If I ever need some peace and quiet, I just end every sentence with “orange.”
Hoid: Once again I must ask you to act a bit less like a poison-filled sporange.
Design: It’s fun to watch him incorporate that word into all of his sentences!
9. Grows to the size of a mountain
Hoid: It’s not (ouch) that I mind (ouch) the mountain-climbing business that Design (ouch) is running.
Hoid: But the constant (ouch) pick-axes driving into my shins (ouch) does get a tad...distracting.
Hoid: (ouch)
10. Handcuffed to Kelsier, ala Light & L
Kelsier: [eyes gleaming]
Kelsier: And this time you can’t escape me, Drifter!
Hoid: Hey, is that a spike in your eye, or are you just happy to see me?
Kelsier: ...
Kelsier: T-That doesn’t even make any sense!
Hoid: ...This might actually be fun.
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hello! do u still do request can i ask if u can do yan!scp073 x scp!reader
for some details:
the reader is a safe class cause she doesn't want to hurt people and see them in pain she has healing powers as she usually heals staff or gurads who are injured and she is a total sweetheart!
what will happen if they meet? (u can add any plots and things u wanna add)
*thanks if u are uncomfortable u can decline*!
Ooo I’ve finally got an ask! Sorry, I’m quite late with this. Hope short scenarios will be okay!
consumed by jealousy once again.
Yandere Scp073 x fem reader
Warnings: obsession, implied stalking, corruption, pessimistic thoughts, insecurities, mentions of murder, jealousy
*not proofread, please do notify me if I have missed out a warning, might add some things after posting
How did you both first meet?
“…”
• Cain is quite the desirable lad. He’s polite, well-mannered and crosses his legs when seated. Time has carved wisdom into the cadavers of his body; he speaks with many words he’s memorized from dictionaries and occasionally mixes up phrases from different languages.
• When you first met Cain, your sweet and kind nature allured him. He became.. curious, so to speak. Strangely obsessed with admiring you while you’d work with people. Becoming a tad bit jealous when your attention wasn't fixated upon himself. He wouldn't let these thoughts come to light. Not now anyways.
•Always, Cain offered a helping hand. Did you need any assistance carrying that heavy bag? Or perhaps you wanted a glass of water? You could always see him at your service, watching your skilled hands heal others with a passion.
How much time did it take?
“…”
• It had taken him a few months to develop feelings. Cain first believed it was a wonder, why hadn't you excluded him from your table where you would sit? Did you not find his voice uncanny?
•He had only adored you even more after that.
• He had once asked what your occupation in the foundation was, what the foundation declared your function as a cog in one of their elaborate machines. This was the depressing reality. Cain had learned not to question it. They had stuffed his mind full of knowledge to the point he swore it snapped at times, piece by piece.
• Although he had his own mental burdens, Cain would never place them upon you. Endearing innocent soul, let him kiss you to death.
Does his emotions remind him of any past experiences?
“…”
• Cain loathes the feeling of jealousy consuming his heart, it reminded him of a very dark time. Where he had slaughtered his brother out of the same envy he experiences now, just desiring to be injured in any shape or form so he could feel your fingers blessing his cold, still-beating heart and not some guard or doctor undeserving of your touch.
• A rational part of his mind was disgusted at his concerning thoughts. He justified it with a wild vigour.
How would he show his undying love?
“…”
• Sometimes you’d find plastic flowers tucked away in various places, they were always crimson-coloured Morning Glorys and Black roses with sloppy red paint in the shape of a heart. You had giggled and suspected Cain. Though you had never confirmed your thoughts with the man himself. Darling, Sweetheart Cain. Made of sugar and liquorice.
• Every time you discovered your bouquet of flowers, you noticed the hearts had been painted less messily and with more ease, the streaks of red paint precise and pristine.
• Cain felt awkward at the thought of confessing his ever-growing feelings for you. He would only admire you. How your face looked when you smiled, how you rambled about Josie the half-cat’s fluffy pelt and the most adored feature of yours, the way you’d praise him when he did a good job.
•Don’t ever let yourself think he’s going to let such a precious flower like you wilt in his needy grasp.
#Scp 073#scp x reader#yandere scp x reader#scp foundation#scp#X reader#Yandere x Reader#Written by tired author#Scp 073 x reader#Yandere Scp 073 x reader#sfw content#Nefelibata writes
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Teacher's Pet part 10
Synopsis: Game is preserved by game. And what games can one play? What about rewards? Our two lovers share some special moments.
A/n: Hey bitches, guess who's back from mental health crisis! Meeee. I love you all and sorry for the inconvenience and lateness!!! Slammed this one out. Quickly. Before the madness leaves me. Yall the best. Thanks
Oh, that man, you thought as you trolled the shops. Furiously as you slid the hangers across. The sound of metal slightly shrieking put you on edge. If you had been not just a post-marriage thing, but the next in a long line of so-called ‘assistants’ or ‘companions’, then you’d be the best damn one he’d ever have.
He wanted to play like he was human, play house with you. Something he never did before, he told you. There was a comfort and a ring of truth in those words. A lie? You felt yourself question. Or was he actually just telling the truth?
Maybe alien men weren’t total pigs like human men…you reasoned with yourself.
So many thoughts were swimming in your mind.
You angrily scooped up a few dresses and made your way to the changing room.
You chose a black number, slightly strappy, mid-length and a lower square neckline. You brought a little cardigan and it would match perfectly. The way the skirt flared gently but still held some grip to your thighs was excellent at providing some semblance of elegance. It hit at your knee, classy.
Now onto shoes…
You got a message from your Doctor, you headed to a café.
It was all very nice. Trite, but felt authentic. His long fingers carding through your hair felt lovely. It felt like a return to what you had back in Bristol. Your mind was calm, placid and you felt a bit better about the whole damn thing.
Like your walls were removed.
Sooner or later, you had to get ready and then the ebb of dark thoughts came back in tiny waves. You got frustrated and just started patting on a thick layer of glitter, and maybe a tad bit too much highlighter cream on.
You caught your reflection in the mirror. You looked manic. Beautiful, but oh-so-fucking-crazy. You toned down things just a tad.
Just a tad, you still wanted to be breathtaking…
You went back and leaned on the bed and caught your breath. You did your breathing exercises and collected yourself and gave one final check in the reflection of the metal of the barrack wall.
Once joining him, the nerves subsided. You mentally wondered if he had some pheromones or something like that. It felt good, though, safe.
The evening began and you went out with nary a hitch.
He took you to see some contrived show about the nature of social media and the ephemeral nature of family. (And murder!) You tried to enjoy it, you really did, but in the dark of the theatre, his face pale enough to reflect the stage light and the fact you could feel an electric current running through the two of you as you leaned in or lightly touched, your mind went slightly south.
The man was too attractive for your own good. And your lack of attention span was driving you to look at his face most of the time.
Thankfully, the play ended.
Performers came out to bow, lights went up and you were ushered out.
He even treated you to a bit of a romantic dinner. Although, he did grumble about there not being a children’s menu.
Almost very human.
You let your entire guard down.
It was impossible to not.
This entire day was disarming. More disarming than yesterday!
Your conflicted feelings fell away more and more. Outside of little trips to London for this whole UNIT thing, you could go back to Bristol. Go back to being (y/n) and Professor Smith. Build something real. Build something tangible.
You loaded yourselves into a cab back to the UNIT head quarters. His hands were also distractions. They felt so cruelly good inside or on you. They were also emotive and caring. Creatures in their own rights.
Suddenly, you felt very brave and extra insane.
You wanted them inside you in this very cab. And damn it! You were going to get your way!
You grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your right thigh, and leaned in to his ear, your other hand lightly toying with his hair.
“Fuck me with your fingers. Here, now.” You whispered, your voice going slightly husky.
He looked at you, a severe look passed and faded before he let out a slight laugh. Soft, but with a hint of something behind it.
“Now, my fawn?” Slightly shocked, but a Cheshire grin came out.
“Right now.” You ordered gently, the whisper came out a more a huff of air than a spoken set of words.
“One moment.” He said, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket. He grabbed something and pressed a button on it. It let a little noise.
“What is that?”
“Screwdriver, it’ll give us privacy. More or less.”
You nodded, a slightly slack-jawed, “Ah.” Escaped your mouth. “Some screwdriver.”
“You don’t even understand the half of it.” He said, as he leaned in to kiss your jaw and placed on hand at the hollow of your throat.
When he finally worked his way to your pussy, he slid with a finger your panties over.
“Already so soaked? Good girl…” He cheesed.
It made your head roll back. In your moment of ballsy control, he somehow made himself the one in charge. A mental flip over…
And you didn’t particularly mind.
Damn him.
You felt that deft long middle finger find your clit. His index and ring finger found themselves in the middle of your folds. You rolled your hips over and your legs parted a little bit more against the fabric of your dress. The circular motions of the finger on your clit driving you a little bit crazy…
You braced yourself against the seat of the cab.
He scooped his fingers down deep into you, pressing deep onto the walls. He kissed you and bit gently at your chin.
You moaned into the top of his mouth.
His long hands had the benefit of him being able to continue his motions on your clit and he stroked the lowest part of your pussy with his pinky finger.
The other three worked you senseless.
“You’re so filthy.” He praised you. The ‘r’ in ‘you’re’ drilled inwards.
Your stomach fluttered and flipped around.
You let out a grunting heave. Your hands firmly around his body and gripping the back of the seat. He worked his way against your walls more. Penetrating deeper, still.
Unfortunately for you, the big stupid tower that UNIT had was approaching in the foreground.
He grazed your chest with his teeth and pulled out of you. He took out the screwdriver and it made that noise again.
He paid the driver and pulled you out.
“Now, you be good and quiet through the hallways and I’ll give you what you want.” He ordered you.
You nearly flailed out.
There were still staff and soldiers milling about, as you went towards the lift, some even approached him with questions.
You were still wet and dreadfully turned-on! And twitchy. It seemed painfully unfair, he wound you up just enough to make you literally insane!
You needed him to fuck you.
You could literally feel the absence of his fingers inside you. Like a gaping wound.
Cruel.
The seconds dragged on for what seemed like years. These underlings of his really could drag themselves on! It was wholly unfair. The several Cocktails with St Germaine and Vodka and the level of lust hazing your vision and your orders to be quiet. You wanted to beg him to finish fucking you.
Soon enough you were in the stupid barracks.
“Strip.” He ordered plainly, unbuckling his pants and pulling down his pants and his underwear. His cock already standing at full attention.
You shimmied out of your dress and underwear.
“Kneel.”
You kneeled.
“You’ll get my hands in you if you do good here. I know you will.” His tone was somewhere between an order and a negotiable thoughtfulness. With a tad bit of praise wrapped in.
You really needed him to get you off. It was up there in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. ‘Get the Doctor’s fingers inside of you.’
So you obeyed.
You scooted forward and wrapped your hands around his ass and opened your mouth. You cracked your neck and inhaled. You pressed your tongue down on over your lower teeth and wrapped your upper lip over your top teeth. You slicked your tongue out just a bit more as you worked your way down his shaft.
He stabilized himself in your hair and the base of your neck, guiding you down deeper. He was fully inside your mouth. Gently, but still, he helped you go up and down as you continued to go down on him. A symbiotic, well-oiled machine. He guided you down and you licked and applied pressure.
All while you were still aching. All the need for him intensifying as you just kept clenching your thighs together. As if that’d stop the sensation of want…
This little trade-off was driving you mad!
You licked his entire shaft, swirling your tongue as you both continued the motions. Edging him with the hot breath coming out onto his tip, you clasped a tighter grip on his ass. You slipped down and went to purse your lips around the base…
He pulled himself out of your mouth.
“I’m going to finger you, as you want. Then…’ He said, pulling you up and shoving you onto the bed, flourishing his fingers…”I want to cum inside your mouth later.”
He pushed apart your legs and gave a deep lick to your cunt. Hard, quick, and lingering around.
He was insane! This was the most aggressive he’d ever been with you sexually. He braced himself on the bed frame and peered deep into your eyes as he maneuvered his other arm, and hand, down inside of you. You let out a giant tremble as he lay over you, dragging out the heavy petting and large sweeps inside you.
You gulped.
He somehow managed to get a few fingers inside you, probably because you were so soaked, and you were so nervous and eager to please. Or he was rather good with his fingers.
He played guitar.
Maybe that was why…
Your mind wandered gently away and you wanted to ask him to play for you…
You were so close. The waiting in the halls and him making you service him, really was a dangerous cocktail. A torture device, well fit for whatever this paramilitary organization had in their arsenals…
And here he was, fingers engulfed in your wet heat.
Suddenly you felt a shattering static, and the intoxicating waves of an orgasm and alcohol teamed up against you. You swore you could feel your vision somewhat fading around the edges. You felt rapidly breathless and were slow-blinking away from your orgasm waving through you.
The old man pulled his way up and gently pulled you down. You met halfway between the two.
“Open wide, sweetheart.” He cooed as he gripped his cock, jerking it. “Get that sharp tongue out. Don’t be shy, fawn.” It came out a velvet-wrapped order.
And yet again, you obeyed his orders to the mark!
Warm and salty, he came onto your tongue and tapped himself dry on your tongue.
You never liked the taste of cum, but you swallowed it, you figured that alien cum wasn’t as bad as human cum.
You tried to not gag…
He saw you balking at the taste and pet your hair.
“So good for me…you’re perfect, aren’t you?”
You nodded your head in affirmation.
He leaned down and kissed your forehead.
After a moment or two in just a lock up, you decided to shower. He joined you, simple, clean fun. Oddly sexless.
The morning came and you woke without a startle for the first time in what felt like your entire life. His one arm was wrapped around you, the feeling of his odd, two-hearted beating thrumming along. Like a white noise machine. His chest was pressed in earnest against your back.
It was the first time you’ve slept with a man, like truly, in the most simple description in years. It felt wonderful.
You didn’t know what time it was, your phone was still in your purse and the room lacked a clock, as far as you could tell. It was also windowless.
You managed to wriggle your way out to go to the bathroom and checked. It was half-eleven. He began to stir.
“Hey, go back to sleep.” You walked over and swooped a bit of his hair to the side. “I’ll go for a quick walk, I’ll be soon.” He rolled over and nodded.
You went out to check your phone, go outside and have a smoke, and prowl about. The hallways were milling with people and soldiers, busy.
You exited and lit up, Petronella was approaching the entrance.
“Hey, I know the perfect place for a brunch.” She exclaimed, clearly happy about the chance encounter.
You quickly dropped your cigarette and exhaled away from her face, remembering her asthma.
After a quick exchange you made your way back up to the barrack. He was fiddling around with some device. You’d like to think he changed his focus the minute he noticed that you entered, but it was a few seconds and he kept running his fingers and a real screwdriver on some screws as he went to look at you.
“So I was thinking that you and I could go to brunch.” You launched the idea. “Could be fun. Way better than a trip to Starbucks.” You added on.
“I could eat.” He announced.
The process to get you both out the door was a bit tough. As you kept find yourselves simply unable to keep your hands to yourselves. He was incorrigible!
But you did it anyway.
It was nice, Petronella came in clutch for you. It wasn’t a place catering to the yummy mummy crowd, nor the drunk hipster crowd. Very cozy. The seats were lush and you got a cozy, semi-cramped corner booth. All coiled up together…
You downed your first Bellini and your dishes were coming out.
You kept yourself from blurting out something.
The second Bellini pried it out.
“So tell me about these past companions…” You finally dropped as you sopped up a bit of oil with a piece of bread, you didn’t need to be completely sloshed yet.
He let out of derisive snort.
“I ran away with my granddaughter from my home planet. She encouraged me to pick up traveling companions when she married an Earthling. It’s been a cycle ever since. Although. I did give up after the last one. Especially after all my memories of her returned…no more companions. No more travel. Rehabilitate my ex-partner from my school days until she’s sane and no longer wants to take over the cosmos and kill off anyone. Catch and release. Teach on Earth until the planet meets it’s fire-y end.” He explained it all so nonchalantly. Boiled down. Reductive.
You nodded along and took a sip of his coffee.
“Never expected you, but, you’re my jealous little secret.” A dark, yet warm grim blazed across his face.
“And….how many….have you slept with?” You circled your pinky around the top of his glass.
“A few, rarely. I’m rather…adverse to sexuality usually. Sometimes it’s the right body and right time. Last one was this woman named Clara, we rubbed off on each other so poorly. She became too like me and I her, she died and I lost my mind, finally in the position I’ve left so many in. Four point five billion years inside of a hell of my creation to try to save her. In the end, my memory was wiped. It was brought back thanks to the ex-partner. You should meet her. One day. Missy is…Missy.” It seemed like his honesty had some subversion but still rang true.
“It’s a huge catalyst for why I’m retired from my endeavors. I’ll help UNIT out, but I need to find some peace. I’m an old man. I deserve a bit of rest.”
“Four point five billion years old.” You nodded, eyes bugged out of your head. “How’d that even work?”
“Oh, my ship is a time machine. She’s the big thing that’s covered in cloth in my office near my windows. She’s a Type-40 TARDIS. But because Clara rejected her resurrection, so to speak, the years snapped back. I’m only two thousand, as I said the other night!”
And here you were feeling slightly insane over thinking him in his sixties previously in the last week…
You scooped your hair put of your own face.
“Can’t fault you for wanting a break. I’m exhausted and I’m virtually just starting out in life. Can’t imagine living that long…” You gave a long hard stare into the distance…
You definitely couldn’t fault him there, having lovers. Or being too jealous. He was so...old…there was no way around it.
You especially couldn’t be worked up over his body count. You probably matched each other in some ways.
That was a lot of unpacking and decentering you had to do.
Your learning was never really done.
After all, you stop learning, you stop living…
“Any more inquiries?” He seemed to be jokingly prodding.
“Just don’t take me…off planet or back in time. Especially back in time.” You pointed to your face as if it were the obvious reason why that wouldn’t work.
“I never intend to.” He promised.
“Good.”
You finished up and made you way out, you took a walk around a park for a while, arms joined together.
It was nice. Like something in your life had finally clicked into place. Safety, potentially love, awareness…all that trite shit.
You couldn’t shake some feelings nor the sensation in your brain that something may be up.
But that was for future (y/n) to deal with. Today was just about relaxing with your man. Being normal. Finally getting something normal.
Maybe you both were being rewarded here.
#personal#i wrote this#12th doctor#12th doctor x reader#reader x 12th doctor#you x 12th doctor#12th doctor x you#peter capaldi#doctor who#doctor who fanfiction#self insert#teacher student#whouffaldi mentioned#yipee#i have an axe to grind#yayyyy#its my universe and yoire just living in it
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OMG I FOUND ONE
it’s so rare to find a writer SPECIFICALLY for John Doe-
anyways, hello! Could I please request some fluff (maybe a bit suggestive at the end if ur feelin it, but it’s fine if not) with a GN reader? For the idea… maybe if the reader had just gotten home from a long day at work and John just flocks to them, tending to their every need and trying his best to make the reader feel like the most valued living thing in the world! Yk, him just fawning over his partner, absolutely SMITTEN.
thanks for listening and I hope you have fun writing this! Who knows, I might be back for more 👀
I'm so glad you came to my page!!! I specifically write GN and Male readers so drop a request anytime hun!
Edit as of Posting: Just want to apologize for this taking so long. College kicks my butt and has been causing quite a lot of depression, but I'm back into the swing of things!!!
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Physically Exhausted
Since moving to the Uncanny Valley, work had always been a difficult thing due to the late shifts you worked. It wasn't exactly for the fainthearted. Especially since your boyfriend didn't work- well couldn't get work since he was a Regular Guy which is seen as local pest, and while yes your boyfriend is a tad bit pesky, he was far above common vermin, at least to you.
You walked home tiredly in the rain, having missed your bus. Doe would have met you at the bus stop, but he is hydrophobic and you'd rather not watch your partner devolve into a puddle or something. The thought made you uncomfortable.
You were covered in a grape slushie that someone dropped on you since you told them they were a dollar or so short. Your pants smelled of orange soda some kid dropped on you that his guardian said wasn't a big deal. You felt miserable. You walked home miserably as you were soaked in rain and seething with frustration. You got to your apartment building, clicking the button on the intercom.
"Who is it?" Doe spoke on the other end curious as to who it was.
"Hey, honey. Can you let me upstairs?" You asked him. You had conveniently forgotten your keys this morning, so you couldn't get in.
"On it!" He spoke happily and bolted to the door to open it for you. As you walked up the stairs, you went to hug him, but he stepped back, pointing to the water coming off your clothes.
"Sorry, love bug." He smiled at you sweetly.
That kinda was the last straw for you and you just started crying in the hall, as John Doe was wide-eyed and looked at you as you cried and rambled about how horrible your day was.
"Some bitch dropped a slushie on me! Some kid dropped soda on me! Then I forgot my keys and it's raining! and now I can't hug my boyfriend." You just cried and rambled about your bad day and Doe gently guided you inside as you sobbed quietly and pitied yourself. He slowly took your jacket off(with plastic gloves), and set it aside with your uniform hat and he led you to the bathroom where you saw your favorite pajamas out for you and your bluetooth speaker on to blast your favorite music. You slowly stopped crying and he just had a sweet smile on his face as you finally calmed down.
"It'll be ok. You're home now! For the rest of the night you'll be treated the way you should be treated." He smiled again and held your face in his hands. "Even when you're upset, you're still the most beautiful thing to me." He kissed your forehead, and let you be for a while.
You calmed down finally and threw aside your wet clothes. You were surprised he wasn't fussing about the shower since he usually hates it when you do. You open the shower and hook up your phone to the speaker, vibing to your music and cathartically losing yourself for a moment. After a good twenty minutes of scrubbing yourself and your hair, you eventually opened the curtain to find your favorite fluffy towel, the one you loved the most, and did your best to keep it in good condition. After you got all dressed you came out to see Doe had warmed up your favorite meal you prepped and defrosted throughout the week.
"I got your favorite movie on, lovebug!" He smiled at you as you sat down.
"Thanks, Doe." You smile and ate your meal, snuggling up to him and eating your meal. Despite a bad day... this was nice. Coming home to the man you love. Of course he wasn't watching the movie, those big, sweet eyes were looking directly at you. Of course you didn't mind as you hugged him.
"Thank you, Doe... for everything." You smiled and kissed his cheek gently, making all his adorable curls turn to hearts and his pupils to dilate largely.
"Anything for you, my beloved." He proceeded to pounce you- smothering you in kisses and all over your sweet face. Of course, you tried to escape- but you were stuck for a while, but who could ask for more than him? Someone who loves you so devotedly as John Doe? No one could ever compare.
#john doe#john doe visual novel#john doe x reader#character x reader#john doe x you#tw yandere#johndoeshrine#obsessive yandere
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Daydream | KNJ
One man’s daydreaming is another man’s day.
✿ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
✿ Genre: smut, angst, a tiny bit of fluff, pretty much pwp
✿ Rated: M for More
✿ Warnings: A little spice over the phone, handjob, oral (f. receiving), little bit of spanking, this is a tad bit emotional
✿ Word Count: 5.6k
✿ Summary: It’s late and he has work to do, but for some reason he can only think about you. He misses you so much and after so long, maybe it’s time to pay you a visit?
✿ Author’s Note: Fun fact, this is based off a dream I had a while ago. The part that mattered only lasted for like a second and the rest of the dream was nonsense but ayy I got a fic out of it~ This was supposed to be posted a year ago, I’m so behind omg 🤡… In reconciliation, I will let y’all know that there mayyyy be a part 2, but not in the way you expect so keep an eye out :3
No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D
Namjoon stared at the screen like he had been all day, his frustration had caused a pounding headache that only seemed to get worse as the day went on. Cubase remained untouched, nothing, absolutely nothing had come out of this work day. He’d been at this for hours, hoping and waiting for inspiration to strike. With approaching deadlines, the pressure was eating away at him to try and get everything done.
For weeks he’s been working hard on songs for the upcoming album the group was going to be putting out in a few months. Today was the day he was supposed to start taking it easy and let his own creativity flow to its heart’s content and focus on working on the playlist that consisted of new songs for his new upcoming solo album. He had been looking forward to this day for a while, but it’s just been crickets. He hadn’t done anything productive today.
The cause… well, it’s sad, but he had a feeling of what it might be.
Namjoon tried to tell himself he was just burnt out from working so hard. It’s true, he had been overworking himself for the past few days, it could have easily sucked out all the inspiration he had beforehand. He knew that wasn’t it though. All day, now that he wasn’t so sucked into work, his mind was focused on something he tried to pretend hadn’t been eating away at him for the last month.
You.
It’s been so long since he’d seen you last. Busy schedules got in the way, and he’s embarrassed and honestly a little ashamed in the fact that he couldn’t make time to text you. He missed you so much, but he shouldn’t. It’s what put the distance between you two in the first place. Things were getting complicated and they never were supposed to.
But he just missed you so much.
Namjoon grabbed his phone off his desk and scrolled through his messages till he found your name. His heart skipped a beat.
Joonie [12:42 AM]: Hey
Y/N [12:44 AM]: ???
Y/N [12:45 AM]: So you’re finally texting me again 😏
Joonie [12:45 AM]: :( Don’t be like that
Y/N [12:46 AM]: Hehe I’m just playing, I figured you’d be busy
Joonie [12:46 AM]: Yeah I’m sorry, works been a lot
Y/N [12:46 AM]: I figured
Joonie [12:47 AM]: So… how’s your day been?
Y/N [12:47 AM]: Joon I thought we were past small talk 😩
Joonie [12:47 AM]: It’s a bit awkward, just feels like forever since we’ve talked last
Y/N [12:48 AM]: It’s been like a month hasn’t it?
Namjoon stared at the screen in disbelief. Has it really been that long? A quick scroll up told him it was in fact true.
Joonie [12:49 AM]: I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠ
Y/N [12:49 AM]: It’s alright, I just miss you :(
The words shouldn’t make his heart jump. This goes against everything you both have established, then again, you’ve been crossing the boundaries for a while.
Joonie [12:50 AM]: I miss you too
Y/N [12:50]: :D
Namjoon suddenly had the urge to scream. You were adorable.
Joonie [12:51 AM]: :)
Y/N [12:52 AM]: Soooo Kim Namjoon, what’s the occasion this time?
Y/N [12:53 AM]: We both know you never text me unless you want something ;)
Joonie [12:54 AM]: …
Joonie [12:55 AM]: Can I call you?
Y/N [12:55 AM]: I’m waiting 👀
Namjoon stared hard as his thumb hovered over the call button. He knew the door he was opening up, and wondered if this was the right choice. Maybe he needed more time?
His body acted on its own and without thinking about it anymore, he clicked the button.
It rang for a second before you picked it up, he couldn’t help but smile when your cheery tone greeted him with a hello.
“I need you.” The words escaped his lips before he had much time to think it over.
“Someone’s eager,” you joked.
“Sorry, I just… I’ve been stressed lately with work. Nothing went as planned today, I was supposed to get a lot done, but I’m feeling burnt out. I need you. I just.. need you.” He ranted, almost pleading. The last words carried a lot of sentiment that was unknown to you both.
Joon could practically feel your smile through the phone.
“And what exactly do you want me to do? It’s been awhile Joon, talk to me~”
He quickly looked behind him, making sure his door was closed and locked. When he was assured it was, he scooted his chair up so he was leaning against his desk, lowering the chances of anyone hearing him, even if the other measures failed.
“Make me feel good like you always do. Please baby, you always make everything better and I miss you so much…” He whispered into the phone.
“Mmmm it really has been awhile~”
“So long... I’ve been thinking about you a lot these days.”
“Me too. Everytime I’m alone, it’s late at night and I can’t stop thinking about you and how good you make me feel Joon and I—“
“Fuck wait, stop!” Namjoon hurried. “I—I’m not even on the road yet, I’m still in my studio and you know how long it takes for me to get there.” His breathing was heavy as he gripped hard on the arm of his desk chair.
“Well hurry then Joon before I start without you~” Namjoon threw his head back at your words.
“Baby… wait, tell me what you’re wearing.” They say curiosity kills the cat.
He heard you chuckle slightly. “That hoodie you always keep leaving over here.” Fuck.
“And?” He rushed.
“Did I say and…” And boy did curiosity kill him. Namjoon just sighed, already feeling the blood beginning to rush to a certain place. He looked down at his lap, getting the urge to pull his pants down as he listened to your voice.
“Y/n I want you so bad…”
“How do you want me when you get here?”
“Don’t do anything, just wait for me. Can't wait to make you feel so good baby, missed your body so much.”
“And I can’t wait to make you feel good. I’ll make sure you forget the stress of your job. Get ready Kim Namjoon.” The possibilities had his mind racing and he gripped the phone hard as he bucked into nothing.
“I’m going, I'm going— I can’t do this anymore. I'm sorry.” He was already getting up and heading for his coat.
“I’ll text you when I’m downstairs, please don’t start without me.” His affirmation was needed as he remembered that one time he walked into your apartment, to see you having a blast with that hitachi wand you kept in your bottom drawer.
You giggled before you said your goodbyes.
It was in record time that he made it to the garage, with his driver pulling up in just a few minutes. The drive to your place was about 30 minutes from the Bighit building, as traffic always seemed to be bad when he came.
One thing he loved about coming over was the fact that the drive always gave him some time to think, and he had much on his mind.
Namjoon has dug himself in a hole he’s not sure he can come back from. Your relationship was never meant to be as complicated as it quickly became.
Namjoon met you a few years ago. At the time you worked as a waitress and after a successful concert, as they always do, the boys and some staff members went out to eat at the restaurant you worked at. You had been their waitress and even though the night was a blur (too much to drink), he had practically spent the whole night ogling you. He remembers distinctly the way he felt every time you came over to their table and how his eyes would follow you even after you left.
But it was not this meeting that started the whole arrangement that’s been going on for years. No, it was the next time you met.
Bighit had been holding a company party and the same restaurant they went to that day catered the event. You were still a waitress at the time, so you were one of the staff members that worked that night. This time, and with a little (emphasis on the little) less alcohol in his system, he managed to talk to you that night. He pulled you aside when your shift was getting close to ending and you guys basically spent the whole event talking and getting to know each other. Well… that would be a little bit of a lie.
The event had been close to being over and well, after a few more rounds, somehow you both ended up in one of the practice rooms practically eating each other’s faces. Things got pretty intense, Joon being this close to taking you right there in that practice room, but the sound of people beginning to leave scared you both, and that’s how he ended up in your apartment, and how this whole thing started.
It was supposed to just be sex. Joon made it clear from the beginning how work was just way too busy for him to consider a relationship, and you seemed fine with keeping the whole thing pretty casual. You even established rules and boundaries you both should not cross over.
Well flash forward a few years and practically everything you said not to do has been done. The boundaries were in this unspoken gray zone that you both never just seemed to talk about.
That’s where the problem starts.
The last time Namjoon went over to your place, certain words that he knew would change the dynamic of your relationship forever just seemed to be on the tip of his tongue all night. Luckily he never said anything, but it made him realize how close you two have gotten. Really, if it wasn’t for the periods you sometimes wouldn’t speak to each other, you would really look like a couple in a normal relationship. He’s never taken you out on a date, but the amount of times Joon would come over to just hang out, or how he stopped caring about falling asleep at your place, it was not surprising that feelings eventually arose.
It was just meant to be sex. He was quick to accept the fact that you two became friends, just with a few benefits, but the fact that he knew deep in his heart that he wanted to be more than that, well…
If things were different, if he wasn’t RM from BTS, he wouldn’t have any doubts asking you out, or being more. But the title and responsibilities are tied to his name in real life. He’s busy, and the worry of being an awful boyfriend because of his job, just seemed too much of a possibility for him to even think about putting you through that. It wouldn’t be fair.
In all honesty he had been avoiding you at first before he legitimately got too busy, a problem he knew he had to fix still raged in his mind.
He needed to end this. He’s gotten way too attached to you and for your sake and his, it would be better if he just ended it here. It was the right thing to do, but that’s what kept him from confronting the issue. He honestly couldn’t imagine not having you in his life anymore. It’s selfish and he knows, but he needs you.
Namjoon’s just been wondering how he’s going to break it to you or himself.
This whole thing that’s happening tonight was unfair and he knows it. He shouldn’t be speaking to you until he’s found the right words to say to end the beautiful relationship he’s built with you. It’s hard, and in a time of immense stress and dismay, he always goes to you for comfort.
Maybe by the next time you speak he can finally say the words he needs to. But not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to see you.
The ride seemingly sped by but at the same time felt like it took all too long. It still surprised him when his driver stopped in front of your apartment building.
Namjoon gave a friendly smile to the driver. He was really the only one to know where he would sneak off to at nights occasionally. Even the guys who he calls his brothers don’t know about your little affair. A silent promise was made each time he would get out of the car to go to your place. He would never tell a soul what happened tonight.
Your apartment building was familiar, it felt like a second home. The familiar rock in front of your building held a special memory as he remembered tripping over it the first time he was here. In a haste to get inside and feel you, in his tipsy state he nearly face planted onto the cement floor when his eyes had been fixated on you, not realizing he was walking straight into the rock.
A neighbor who lived on the first floor, their familiar door near the elevator would always be playing loud music whenever he would visit, tunes he could easily recognize belonged to his group.
Even the elevator was enough to get his heart to ache as he remembered the time you came in together and you joked about the ominous background music as you rode up together and how you got stuck inside for a good 20 minutes. He didn’t see it at the time, but today it seemed all too fitting considering how wrong it was for him to come here today.
He hurried inside, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he rode the elevator and made it to your front door.
Finally.
A brisk knock was all it took before you were pulling open the door, revealing exactly how you described. You were wearing that dark blue hoodie he keeps forgetting to take home, your hair was down, and your legs were bare, getting Namjoon more excited than he’d like to admit.
You were so beautiful, so effortlessly beautiful.
“You’re finally here!” You exclaimed and pulled him into a hug, basking in his familiar sweet scent. He hugged you back happily, resting his head on top of yours. He hugged you tighter.
Your embrace felt like home.
“Missed you so much.” He whispered.
The sentiment was nice, but he quickly remembered the fact he was supposed to be pulling away from all of this. It hurt so much. All he wanted to do was give you all the kisses in the world and tell you the words he held back from saying last time.
Namjoon let his hands travel down under your (his) hoodie to distract his aching heart, grabbing a handful of your ass. He groaned realizing what you told him earlier was true. You weren’t wearing anything underneath.
“You weren’t lying…” he chuckled weakly, gently massaging your ass.
“Why would I lie?” You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I dunno, you wanna make me a mess so rush over here, because you know you make me so hard so quickly.” His words were filthy, but he was desperate.
He saw your eyes widened at the sudden change in mood, but the shock was soon replaced with a sly smile as one of your hands traveled down his body. Your fingers, down his neck, collarbone, abs, all the way till they were hovering over the waistline of his sweats.
Namjoon felt his breath hick.
“Do I now?” You continued further till you were gripping his hardening length. You smiled seeing the way his face scrunched.
Oh boy were you gonna kick it up a notch. You just missed him so much and the way he was speaking earlier about how work had been, you wanted to make him feel better in any way you could.
You pulled your hand out to spit in it, before you were back in his pants, slowly jerking him off. You immediately felt his grip on your ass tightened.
“Wait—Y/n what are you—“ he couldn’t even finish before he had his hands on your hips and was burrowing himself in your neck, trying to suppress the moans.
You gently kissed his cheek, trying to soothe him. “I guess you were right~” you whispered softly into his ear, feeling his length quickly growing in your grasp.
You worked your hand the best you could considering the angle and the fact he was still wearing pants. “Does it feel nice?” You asked, smiling at the way how he was pretty much just fucking your hand. His hips steadily worked at pushing himself into your hand, eager at the slight bit of friction, you really weren’t doing much anymore.
He cursed under his breath at your words.
It was like a flash before suddenly he had pulled your hand away and pushed you back onto your dining table. You stared at him as he began walking closer, the hunger in his eyes had you squeezing your legs together.
He got between your legs, his eyes trailing up your thighs as his hands came up to pull you closer to him.
You were surprised but smirked, trying your best to ignore the way your heart was beating like crazy.
“Huh, can’t even make it to the room Joonie?” You teased.
He just chuckled. “Guess I can’t…”
“You gonna take me right here on the table then?” You bit your lip, not even trying to hide how hot that sounded.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” You didn’t miss the dark tone of his voice. You just smiled at him.
He just stared at your face and you couldn’t help but start to get shy at the way he was looking at you. Unable to handle his gaze you turned away, but his hand pushed you right back to meet his eyes.
You felt your cheeks start getting warm.
“I missed you…” His voice was soft, pleading almost for you to know. He wanted you to know, wanted you to know how much he missed you. This whole situation was fucked, he shouldn’t have to feel like this.
Namjoon pulled up your hoodie so it came up over your thighs. You stared wide eyed as he dropped to his knees and spread your legs apart, lifting them over his shoulders. He started planting kisses up along your thighs, making your whole body come alive.
“Wait— thought I was supposed to make you feel good?” Your breathing was getting labored as he got closer to where you really wanted him.
“You are… seeing you fall apart on my tongue will make me feel great…” He smirked and you just playfully rolled your eyes.
“I mean— I won’t stop you if that’s the case— ohhhh…” You sighed as he kissed you right on your pussy. You didn’t miss the way he smiled seeing your reaction.
Just like you can have him a mess in a few seconds, he could do the same to you.
You gripped the table harder as his light kisses turned to his tongue circling your bud.
“Fuuuu— baby please…” You cried, and he knew what you wanted.
“Does this feel good?” His voice was low and teasing, happy to see you already a mess for him.
“So good, but I want more…” When you beg like that for him, no matter how much he sometimes likes to draw it out he couldn’t deny you. Not when you’ve got him this hard, begging for him to please you.
Namjoon moved his arm so he could use his fingers to start rubbing up along through your slit. He marveled at how wet you had gotten so quickly, and it made him all too eager to finally feel you around his cock.
You whined again, slightly annoyed by the fact he was still teasing you, but before you could say anything his fingers were buried deep between your walls, already getting to work. He curled his finger to hit that sweet spot that he knew turned you into a mess.
“So good— so good!” Your hand flew from the table to tangle in his hair as a moan fell from your lips. He threw you in for a loop as he used the deadly combination of his tongue and fingers to bring you more pleasure than any of your toys were able to.
You missed this, you missed him.
“Fuck, just like that…” You moaned out and that fueled him to push further. Namjoon always knew how to have you screaming within minutes and this time wasn’t an exception.
Namjoon marveled in the little curses, your breathy moans. Knowing he could make you feel so good to make those pretty sounds for him.
He was to miss hearing you like this.
It all came back to him, how this was going to end soon, how it had to end soon. There was nothing he could do about it.
What if this was going to be the last time?
A particularly loud moan from you was enough to bring him back slightly and get back in the moment. You were right here with him, at least he could savor the moment while it was still here.
He took his frustration out on you, making sure every movement of his was purposeful, that this was going to be something you would remember. He wanted to make sure you would remember him.
“Joonie– oh my g–” And just by the sound of your voice he could tell you were getting close.
He paid close attention to your clit, drawing hurried figure eights around the bud with his tongue. With how long it had been since you saw each other it was enough to finally push you over the edge, and Namjoon watched your face intently as you came all over his tongue.
Namjoon paid close attention to the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure, the way your thighs tightened around his head, and the way you whined his name like you were his, like he was the only one who could please you like this. Every detail about you made his cock ache and he wanted nothing more than to take you like you wanted.
As he watched you come down from the pleasure, the little smile that appeared on your face warmed his heart and also made it hurt even more than before he walked in the door. Those same words that scared him last time were on the tip of his tongue once again.
In a haste to make the pain go away he rose to feet and kissed you hard, hardly giving you any time to breathe. He had to make this go away, there wasn’t anything he could do.
You giggled at his hastiness. “Does eating me out really get you going that much?” You asked in between kisses. Namjoon didn’t even answer before he was hoisting you up, making you squeal, and speedily making his way to your bedroom.
He was quick to set you on the bed. You looked up at him excitedly nervous for where this was going.
Namjoon tugged off his shirt a little less than gracefully, and cursed quietly to himself as he tried to get his pants untied. You ogled him happily, with all the working out he had been doing lately it certainly paid off. He looked absolutely amazing.
But what caught your attention the most was the look on his face, and the more you noticed the more your smile started to drop. After knowing Namjoon so long you knew that the way he was clenching his jaw meant he had something on his mind and it was bothering him.
“Joon, you ok?” You asked hesitantly. At that moment he had finally won the battle with his sweats and started tugging them down his legs.
“I’m fine. Take off the hoodie, want your ass up for me.” He said as he went over to the nightstand to grab a condom out the top drawer.
You were still concerned but you did as he said, slipping the baggy hoodie off your form and laid so your ass was in the air. You had every intention of asking about it, but you had a feeling now wasn’t the best time. Maybe this might take his mind off of what was bothering him?
If only you knew the whole reason for his frustration had to do with you.
As much as he wanted to just forget about it and be in the moment with you, he wanted so many more opportunities to be like this with you. The fact that this should really be the last time he gets to be with you, but how much he knew he didn’t want that, it just made this whole experience harder than it should be.
It really would be so easy to tell you how he felt, how much he wanted more out of the relationship you’ve built over the years but that would just make things complicated. It would be even harder to say goodbye.
Namjoon quickly opened up the package and slipped on the condom and got on the bed to position himself behind you.
He was scared to look at you, what if those words he wanted to say would come out if he looked into your eyes?
Namjoon let his hand come down on your ass cheek, a smacking sound reverberating through the room, and a moan instinctively falling from your lips.
He guided his length so it was right nestling you right where you wanted him. You whined and tried to push your hips back but he stopped you.
“You’re so pretty like this…” He sighed, the view honestly immaculate. He started to rub himself between your soaking folds making you want to scream.
“Joon oh my gosh– what has gotten into you?” You cried into the pillow. He normally wasn’t one to tease. Anytime you both would normally meet was under hurried circumstances. Busy schedules, life, anytime you were together just felt like waiting for some sort of timer to go off. It might be a call from a manager, a call from a boss, a notification reminding Joon he had a schedule to get to. There were very few moments you both would get to just relax and be with each other.
The reminder made Namjoon even more upset. There really wasn’t going to be any way he could make this work with you?
“Say it…” His voice was static, trying to sound as emotionless about the situation as he possibly could.
“Joon?!” You cried again.
“What do you want?” He asked again.
“Fuck me please…”
Namjoon could hardly contain himself at your words, he hastily pushed himself in. A moan slipped from his lips at the familiar tightness around his cock. You were so amazing.
He sat there for a second just allowing you to get adjusted, but when you started moving your hips he knew you were ready for him. He was slow, but made sure he was deep with his thrusts so you knew how much he truly cared for you.
You felt so good around him, warm, tight, like home.
Each stroke just made him more angry, he set a punishing pace enjoying the way you little whines distracted him. Everything about you enchanted him.
He slapped your ass again, enjoying the way it jiggled.
He had to make this quick, the longer he was here the harder it would be to go. This had to be the last time, he couldn’t do this anymore, this had to be the last time.
“Fuck– Joon– yes!” You moaned.
The last time. It had to be.
“Shit…” He groaned feeling the way your walls tightened around him. You were getting close too.
With his orgasm approaching sooner and sooner the more he couldn’t just ignore the way his heart longed for more.
In a haste he stopped and pulled out.
You turned around confused but before you could really question it you were on your back and staring right into his eyes as he pushed himself back inside.
The position was intimate and the last thing he should be doing, but he wanted to see you. See the way you look at him, see the way he makes you feel. Would you even want more out of this relationship if he asked you?
To make things worse you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist to pull him closer. As that feeling grew stronger he couldn’t but lean in and kiss you. It was passionate, a passion he desperately wishes you were aware about. He could have burst into tears right in that moment.
Seeing you like this underneath him, he couldn’t deny it. He wanted more, he wanted to call you his. Why, why, why did the job he loved have to get in the way?!
He broke away from you lips and buried his head in your neck, sensing he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Namjoon started kissing your neck right where he knew got to you the most, savorying the way you groaned in his ear. Everything about you felt like muscle memory. How was he going to give this up?
“I’m going to miss you.” He softly said, not expecting you to hear.
Your whimpers were enough to finally push him over the edge, his hips sped up before a soft moan fell from his lips as he stilled inside you and filled up the condom.
He hardly gave himself time to breathe before he was snaking his hand in between your bodies and making quick work on your clit. You instantly moaned and it didn’t take very long for this to push you over the edge once again.
As you both started to calm down, Namjoon hesitantly pulled out of you and went to throw away the condom, when he came back he was a bit shocked to see you staring at him. It automatically prompted him to realize he had a decision to make.
Was he saying here with you tonight?
His mind knew that was a horrible idea, but that didn’t stop him from putting his boxers back on and climbing in bed next to you. At least he could spend one more night with you.
That was one of the rules you had set up oh so many years ago, yet the amount of times he’s stayed over were too many to count at this point.
Even as he got snuggled underneath the sheets you were still staring at him strangely.
“What’s up?” He finally asked.
“What’s up with you? You seem a little tense and what did you mean when you said you’ll miss me?” You questioned a bit worried by how off your evening together seemed.
Namjoon froze realizing you noticed. In a second he weighed his options– does he finally confess what’s been bothering him all night, finally tell you that it would probably be best to end things now, or wait a little while longer to enjoy one more night with you.
One look at you, post sex bliss making you even prettier.
He quickly picked the latter.
“Work’s just been tough. We have a schedule soon where we’re heading to LA in a few weeks– being with you like this made me realize how much I’m going to miss you.” He smiled, pulling you into his arms.
He saw the little smile on your face at his words, melting his heart.
It was true, he was going to be leaving soon and he really was going to miss you.
“Don’t worry, I’ll always be here when you get back.” You said as you snuggled in closer to him.
“I know but still… I’ll miss you.” Namjoon couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice. You were able to pick up on it and looked up at him.
“You’re sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”
He tried to smile and nodded. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”
This time you didn’t push any further and picked up your remote that was sitting on the nightstand. “Did you wanna pick up on the show we left off on?”
Namjoon nodded and watched as you opened up netflix and started up the fifth episode of My Name. You were easily sucked into it, but he couldn’t focus.
In an effort to try and distract himself he got up and told you he was going to shower. He hopped that might help, but one glance in your bathroom made everything worse.
He was everywhere.
Namjoon over the years had steadily started buying more stuff for whenever he would stay at your place. Right there on the cup that sat on the sink was his toothbrush sitting right next to yours.
Even when he made it inside the shower, right next to all your shampoos and body washes were all of his, the same ones he had back in the dorm.
The whole time in the shower he was telling himself one thing; this had gone way too far. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, feelings were complicated and of course after spending so much time with each other feelings other than physical attraction would develop.
It already hurt now thinking about saying goodbye, what about a year from now? This can’t keep going on.
It’s what he tried to tell himself but once he came out the bathroom and saw you lying on the bed asleep, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.
He slipped himself underneath the covers and cuddled up next to you, his heart nearly tearing into two when you almost instinctively snuggled further into him.
It was things like this that was going to make this hard. How was he going to be able to say goodbye when he loved you so much?
#bts#bts smut#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon#namjoon#namjoon smut#namjoon fanfiction#rm fanfic#bts fanfic#bts rm#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bangtan boys#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fan fiction#bts fluff#bts angst#namjoon angst#bangtansorciere#bangtanbathhouse#bts one shot#rm#namjoon one shot
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Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — a DPxDC Dead on Main Fic
chapter three has arrived!
master post || <- ch.2 || ch.3 shitposts
CHAPTER THREE — ANGEL IN DISGUISE
Summary —
Danny has a (literal) run-in with someone at a coffee shop, an interesting conversation with some friends, a near-miss with another mugger, and has some more home invaders. Jason and Tim start putting some more pieces together.
chapter word count — 7,646
full chapter under the cut, but for the best experience read on ao3 and consider leaving kudos/comments as they fuel me :)
𓆩⟡𓆪
Danny let himself splurge on decent coffee once a week, a little treat to help with the general chaos of juggling a full load of intense college classes. He had discovered a lovely little coffee shop nearby campus with a caring staff who fulfilled Danny’s truly exorbitant espresso wishes without even batting an eye.
He loved Gotham, truly.
What he did not love, was getting said heavenly coffee splashed over his chest and spilled on the floor, a truly devastating (and expensive) brown puddle that reflected his blank face as he stared down into it with a resigned sigh.
“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” A deep voice broke him out of his mourning and he glanced up at the douche that had bumped into him and caused the tragedy seeping below his sneakers as they stood there. Well, the douche at least had the decency to be the hottest guy Danny had ever seen. He would take the spilled holy nectar any day to have the chance to see the face staring at him in panicked apology. (Danny was maybe a tad bit sleep deprived and loopy at the moment. Fruit loop loopy. Ha.)
“Uh, you okay?” Danny scrubbed a hand down his face to clear his head and bit down a hysterical bark of laughter and instead shot a rueful smile at the literal Angel looking at him with what was now concern, gorgeous blue eyes wide and large hand hovering as if to steady Danny but not sure if the touch would be welcomed. (It most certainly would be.)
“Yeah, you’re good, man,” Danny tried for nonchalance despite kind of wanting to cry in the corner at the loss of his much needed caffeine. He did not have time to go back to his apartment to make a shitty cup of the instant coffee he made do with every other day of the week. “Don’t worry about it.”
The guy looked worried regardless. An employee came over with a mop and paper towels which the guy took with a grateful smile that brought a flush to the barista’s cheeks. Danny felt a sense of kinship towards her, because at least he wasn’t the only one clearly affected by the Angel’s charm.
Danny stepped away from the puddle to let the clearly underpaid employee get the spill mopped up, glad that his shoes only left a slight trail of the liquid, and made grabby motions for the paper towels. Angel Boy passed him the stack and Danny started patting his shirt down. Of course he chose to wear a mostly white one today too, no jacket in sight because Danny was an idiot who didn’t want to carry it around when he inevitably got too warm. Having an ice core that made him near immune to the cold had it’s downsides after all.
“Let me buy you another?” Danny stared at Angel Boy who was now giving him a truly devastatingly pretty smile that made Danny’s gut twist a bit. (He should really have Frostbite run some tests with the amount of swirling his gut had been doing lately. Maybe something was wrong with him.)
“Uh, you don’t have to,” Danny said after a moment and Angel Boy shook his head.
“No, I insist,” Angel said and Danny had a pang of déjà vu but waved it off. “It’s the least I can do after giving yours away to the floor,” Angel glanced at Danny’s shirt and winced, “And for ruining your shirt. Just, wait here?”
Danny could only nod as Angel walked to the counter and turned his charming smile to the cashier who nodded and waved off his card, much to Danny’s chagrin. He was positive he wouldn’t manage to get a free coffee. He had the charm of a particularly slow slug at the moment and his eye bags were probably enough to scare off even Skulker. He watched in swooning amusement as Angel snuck in a few bills (probably much more than the drink itself cost, from the look of it) to the tip jar when the barista’s back was turned and then frowned in confusion as the guy then ran out the door, bell left swinging behind him.
Well, that was that, then. He sighed in disappointment and gave up on dabbing at his shirt after another moment and made sure his shoes were wiped before throwing the soiled napkins in the garbage. He turned around to see if he would actually have a drink waiting at the counter or if it had all been some sort of joke, and startled when he came face to face with Angel Boy a foot away, holding out a large fresh cup of what Danny hoped to be at least as strong as his original order and what looked like a black shirt draped over his arm. Was this guy a speedster or something? How the fuck did he get back so fast? Danny ignored his confusion and took the offered cup gratefully, eyes widening after a careful sip.
Angel laughed, “Like it?”
Danny nodded, taking another sip, “What the hell is in this?”
Angel shrugged, “Same thing my overworked and chronically sleep deprived brother usually gets to try and ‘fight the demons’ or something. You struck me as the type to appreciate it. I had her put the recipe on the side for you.”
Sure enough, Danny found the order written on the side, and at the bottom was a string of numbers. Danny nearly rolled his eyes. Figured.
“I think she left you a little something,” Danny turned the cup and tapped the numbers for Angel to see. The guy just flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Uh, actually that’s for you.”
Danny blinked and then cocked his head to look around Angel’s shoulder to get a look at the girl. She was cute, sure, but after seeing Angel, Danny wasn’t sure he’d be able to find anyone else attractive ever again. (He was definitely being melodramatic. Val would be proud. Sam would smack him upside the head. Tucker would be laughing his ass off. He’s never telling them anything about this.)
He was brought back by a breathy laugh and a more red-faced Angel Boy. “Mine, not hers.”
And, oh.
Oh.
Danny short-circuited.
“My name’s Jason,” Angel Boy, Jason, smiled and stuck his hand out. Danny smiled back and grabbed it, reveling in how warm and nice it felt in his own.
“Danny,” he managed to say without even a crack or stutter. (Tucker would be so fucking proud of him. He’s so telling them about this.)
Angel, no, Jason, grinned a bit wider and squeezed his hand once more before letting go and Danny immediately missed the warmth, cradling his coffee to try and bring it back (it wasn’t the same).
“Well, I’m sorry again, Danny. If you ever want a do-over I’d love to not douse you in coffee next time.”
Danny laughed, “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind that.”
They grinned at each other before Jason startled out of it with a soft, “Oh!” He held out what was definitely a black shirt and Danny stared. “I thought you might like a shirt that I didn’t spill coffee on. I keep an extra in my bike bag just in case. It’s clean, I promise.”
Danny glanced outside and sure enough there was a gleaming black motorcycle parked in front of the doors. Of course the guy rode a motorcycle. Danny was going to fucking swoon.
He did not swoon, and instead composed himself enough to take the offered shirt with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Jason smiled, “No problem, least I could do.”
Danny begged to differ but kept the sentiment to himself. Jason was clearly a gentleman.
His phone beeped in warning and he swore, “I’m gonna be late for class. Thank you for the coffee and the shirt, I really appreciate it.”
“Like I said, least I could do,” Jason waved him off, walking with him towards the door where Danny turned to duck into the bathroom and change. Just before he turned Jason stopped him with a warm hand on his wrist and sparkling eyes.
“Text me?”
Danny grinned and promised, “Yeah, I will.”
Jason left with a gentle squeeze and Danny had to force his feet to start working again and not stare as Jason straddled his bike.
Holy shit.
As he ran to class he shot off a simple ‘Hey, it’s Danny’ with a cheeky coffee cup emoji to the number on the cup and had to force down a giddy, disbelieving laugh.
His life rocked.
—
He managed to keep his good spirits up the rest of the week and was still riding the high when he met Bernard and Tim for their now weekly café hangout.
“You’re in a good mood,” Bernard commented as Danny took the seat across from the couple. He shrugged but kept smiling, taking the offered coffee cup with a quick thanks.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” the week had been good after his run in with Jason. He managed to catch up on the sleep he lost from pulling a couple all-nighters for homework and the chaos of coordinating with Jazz to get Ellie’s paperwork and trying to find the best school for her to enroll at. Classes were going smooth, Ellie was settling in, he hadn’t heard anything from Red Robin or Red Hood, and, oh yeah, he and Jason had been texting a lot. A lot, a lot. And they had plans to meet up Saturday morning for another try at a coffee shop. Danny had to remind himself that it wasn’t technically a date, but it was hard when every time his phone buzzed his heart did a flip.
He was being completely normal about this.
“This have anything to do with Angel Boy?” Danny blushed and regretted ever telling Bernard anything. He groaned into his hands.
“Can you just forget that entire conversation?”
Bernard shook his head, “Nope! It was hilarious and I now must hold it over your head forever more. Friend duties and all that.”
Tim looked between the two in amusement and Danny glared at Bernard in warning. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed but Bernard, the traitor, did indeed dare.
Danny sighed and pillowed his head in his folded arms as Bernard retold the story to Tim, but thankfully left out some of Danny’s more embarrassing tangents about the guy’s killer thighs and various muscle toning. Tim looked very amused at the tale and Danny sighed pitifully.
“Tim, your boyfriend is fucking rude. I told him that in three-day sleep-deprived confidence and therefore cannot be held responsible for my gushing.”
Tim nodded in sage agreement and Bernard scoffed at both of them. “That is so not a thing.”
Tim shook his head, “Is too a thing.”
Danny held out a hand and Tim high-fived it, “See! Thank fuck one of you is sane!”
“Whatever, maybe you guys should get more sleep,” Benny, rolled his eyes, “Have you set up a date yet?”
Danny couldn’t stop the smile, “Yeah, we’re going for coffee on Saturday. Hopefully sans the embarrassing spillage and gawking.”
Bernard laughed and Tim smiled and then said, “You want me to run a background check on the guy? Make sure he’s not some crazy weirdo?”
Danny cocked his head, “You can do that?” He knew Tucker had his ways of getting information on people but he wasn’t used to other people having the same type of paranoia and resources.
Tim shrugged, “Perks of being semi-famous and very wealthy. Bruce makes us run background checks on pretty much anyone we speak to more than once.”
Danny narrowed his eyes, “Have you run one on me?”
Tim fidgeted a little and Bernard laughed, throwing his arm over Tim’s shoulder easily. “Of course he did. We had to make sure you weren’t an aforementioned crazy weirdo.”
Danny raised his eyebrows in amusement, “Find anything interesting?” He was sure that the name change would at least pop up but he didn’t truly know if anything about his parents or the GIW would show, depending on how deep the Wayne’s resources could dig. He knew he was on the GIW’s agency watch list in high school but since they were disbanded he had no idea what records would still be active or available. Then again, Red Robin clearly hadn’t seen anything of the sort if his surprise at the topic was any indication, and surely the Bat Posse had more intense resources than nearly anyone with Batman’s ‘World Greatest Detective’ title and association with the Justice League.
Tim shrugged, “A bit, but Berny always tells me it’s rude to pry.”
“That’s because it is, Timmy,” Benny said cheekily and patted his arm, making Tim sigh. “However, now that we’re friends and you’ve been confirmed to, in fact, not be a crazy weirdo, that rule no longer applies to you. Were your parents really ghost hunters?”
Danny huffed a laugh at Bernard’s bluntness and curiosity. He could see that Tim was also curious and he actually found himself comfortable speaking about his life in Amity with them. Well, some of his life in Amity. The basics. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Bernard let out a, “Huh,” and then, “did they ever find anything?”
Danny smirked. “Maybe,” he said mysteriously.
Bernard guffawed, “You can’t just leave it at that!”
Danny laughed, “Okay, okay! Let’s just say that everyone who lives in Amity are definite believers of the supernatural and for good reason.”
Tim leaned forward in curiosity, “What do you mean by that?”
Danny shrugged, “We’ve all had an encounter or two,” or hundreds, “with a ghost or two,” or an entire realm full. “It’s almost impossible not to in that town. I swear it should be considered the most haunted place in America with how often sightings happen.”
“What type of ghosts?” Tim asked and Danny found that particular question a bit odd and the entire situation somewhat familiar for some reason but brushed it off and shrugged.
“All types, really. There was a lunch lady at the high school, Casper High, by the way, I swear they were just asking for it, and a little boy that’s like, obsessed with pirates, and a puppy named Cujo that runs around and sleeps in peoples gardens, but then there’s the real town legend of course.” Maybe he was having a little too much fun with this.
“What’s the legend?” Bernard asked emphatically.
Danny smirked with a wicked gleam, “Phantom.”
—
He left the Physics lecture nearly dead on his feet, having spent the entire time juggling taking notes and fending off Bernard’s incessant questions about Amity and all things ghosts. The conversation had really taken off with Tim and Benny both taking turns asking rapid fire questions that Danny had to be careful how he answered and by the end they were nearly late to their class and Bernard still hadn’t had enough of it.
It amused Danny, a bit, having people so curious about Amity and the ghosts when everyone in Amity were so desensitized to it all that hardly anyone even spoke about the ghosts anymore, accepting their presence as if they were ordinary run of the mill citizens, especially after their fights stopped creating so much damage and people started being able to catch onto what each ghost wanted to accomplish. At worst they were slight annoyances (Boxy rearranging the shelves at the container store to better suit his whims, Ember crashing some festivals and taking over the opening acts stage time, and Cujo digging up some flower beds and scaring the neighborhood cats) and the Amity Parkers were content to leave them be and let Phantom deal with them when they got too rambunctious. (Besides his parents, of course, and the occasional tourist ghost hunter who often caused more damage than the ghosts that they claimed were so dangerous).
He managed to abate his friends curiosity by promising an eventual visit to Amity (despite his reservations of visiting his home town again and all the memories it held) and further stories another time. Danny was almost certain Tim had been taking notes on everything with the way he had his phone under the table and kept glancing down, typing away as they talked. Danny wondered if the guy had a secret interest in the paranormal and if he liked the exaggerated TV shows with the spirit boxes and creepy basements they locked themselves in for no good reason, undoubtedly bothering whatever shades or spirits were lingering around.
He startled out of his thoughts by a flash of blue on a rooftop across the street. Well, at least Danny wouldn’t have to be stopping any muggings tonight, thank the Ancients. He hadn’t had a run-in with any of the other vigilantes and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. He hoped that Red and Hood were keeping things on the down low and would be the only ones ambushing him anytime soon.
Of course, nothing ever went the way Danny wanted it to.
He saw the hooded figure as he entered the alley and had half a mind to back out and take the long way, but something pressed to his lower back ensured that that wasn’t an option. “Keep walking, pretty boy,” the guttural voice demanded and Danny complied easily, biding his time until he could escape.
The hooded figure started walking towards them, meeting them halfway. “Empty your pockets,” Hoodie Guy said, flashing a gun at Danny, causing him to sigh internally. But before he could get do anything, a flash of Blue landed behind Hoodie and took him out at the knees, gun sliding far across the alley. Danny took his opening and twirled away from the guy behind him as he staggered back a step with a shocked curse. He used his momentum to land a solid kick to his side, knocking him against the wall and followed up with a punch to the temple, knocking him out.
He turned to face Nightwing who was staring in shock at Danny and the thug he’d taken down.
“Nice kick,” he said and Danny had to laugh, getting a flashback to Red Hood complimenting his punch.
“Thanks,” Danny said, “And thanks for the help,” he gestured to the two crumpled forms on the ground and Nightwing shrugged.
“Kinda what I’m around for,” he said and then gestured to the thug behind Danny, “but I think you would’ve been just fine without me.”
Danny shrugged, “Maybe, but guns are a bit much for my limited self defense skills.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Nightwing nodded, crouching to swipe the gun and unload it with practiced ease before turning to the thugs with zip-tie cuffs and speaking a quick, “Hey, O, send the GPD to my pin, would ya? Two armed thugs, zip-tied and out for now. Thanks,” into his comms before turning back to Danny with a small grin, “Do you live close by?”
“Just another few minutes past the next dark alleyway,” Danny gestured in the direction.
Nightwing laughed, “Any chance you take the long way instead?”
Danny smirked, “Nope.”
“Want company?”
Danny nodded with a small shrug and started walking, “Well, you’re definitely more polite about it than Red Hood was.”
Nightwing made a noise of surprise, matching his stride, “Oh, you’ve met Hood?”
Danny laughed, “Oh yeah, we’ve met. Red Robin too, though considering he actually broke into my apartment to get information I’d say you have him beat too.”
Nightwing sputtered, “What the hell? Why?”
Danny shrugged, “Thought I was someone else apparently, but didn’t like being told he was wrong, funnily enough.”
Nightwing sighed, “I’d apologize for him but I think we both know that he isn’t sorry about it.”
Danny shrugged, “Yeah, probably not. It’s chill though, we have an agreement that next time he’ll at least knock.”
“Well if he doesn’t, let me know and I’ll kick his butt a bit for you, ‘kay?”
Danny cackled. He liked Nightwing a lot more than the partners of his he’d met. Well, besides Red Hood, maybe. He had invited him to dinner after all, and the guy had left him food. He won out for sure. But Nightwing was definitely an easier first impression.
“So, you go to Gotham U?” Nightwing asked, eyeing his backpack.
“Yeah, I’m a freshman. Got a full ride for Aerospace Engineering,” Danny offered, because why the hell not? At this rate the Bat Posse would have his entire life story complete with baby pictures by the end of the semester.
Nightwing whistled, “Wow, I know their scholarship programs are super competitive so you must have really impressed them.”
Danny had gone for their Inventor’s Scholarship and entered a modified version of one of his parents old, non-patented, ray guns, but specifically designed by Danny to shoot non-lethal energy bursts powered completely by ectoplasm (or as his official spec sheet had listed: an ‘alternate form of clean energy’). He was incredibly proud of it and had plans to modify a lot of his parents’ other inventions they had given up on. He had all of the blueprints and a few boxes in his closet held the devices that he stole from their lab throughout the years.
They chatted idly for the few minutes that it took to reach his building and he waved goodbye with another thanks and a grin, watching the vigilante swing away on his grapple. So much for not interacting with any other vigilantes. Though, at least it seemed that Red and Hood had kept their little investigation to themselves. Nightwing truly didn’t seem to recognize him and Danny was glad for the semblance of privacy, even though he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t last forever, depending on what the two were able to scrounge up. Furthermore, Nightwing reminded Danny a bit of Jazz — something about the guy just screamed ‘older sibling’ energy and Danny couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him around (not to mention the few puns that they had shot back and forth — the Bats were quickly growing on him, which was mildly concerning considering, well, everything about his own past vigilante situation).
He made the trek up the stairs and decided to use his front door rather than phasing through. He was still a bit paranoid that Red Robin may have put up extra surveillance around his apartment to try and catch him off guard. He and Ellie had thoroughly checked the apartment last time they had left and fortunately found nothing (if they had, he would have tracked the vigilante down and shoved whatever camera or microphone down his throat).
He froze as he entered his apartment, letting the scene he was looking at process.
“Close the door, don’t let them out!” Ellie snapped and Danny did as he was told, closing and locking the door as a tiny black fur ball toddled up to him curiously, winding itself around his feet.
“Ellie,” he said carefully, “what did you do?”
Ellie had another fur ball, this one pure white, cradled in her arms, and she looked up at him with her too-wide, ‘I’m so innocent’ eyes. He sighed, knowing already that he would be caving.
She grinned, as if knowing what his sigh meant. “They were abandoned! I found them in a taped up box in an alleyway and couldn’t just leave them!”
Danny sighed again, toeing off his shoes carefully as to not kick the little creature and then scooped it up, staring at it face to face. It was stupidly adorable and gave him a little ‘mew’ in hello. He melted.
“Okay, fair enough. But you could have taken them to a shelter or vet?”
“I don’t trust shelters! They’re already so full and they might kill them or some older ones to make room!” Ellie said in distress and Danny quickly sat next to her and pressed his shoulder to her own.
“Okay, okay! I get it and agree,” he assured her and looked down at the kittens in their arms. “Have you named them yet?”
She shook her head, “Not yet, I wanted to wait for you. Buuut,” she held up the white kitten. “I was thinking Casper for this one?”
Danny groaned, “Who told you about Casper the Ghost?”
Ellie rolled her eyes, “Casper is a classic, of course I know him.”
“Great, and you know that my high school was literally Casper High? You want to torture me with the memory of high school every time I look at the thing?”
“Well, ghosts are supposed to be haunting, right?”
He shoved Ellie over and laughed as she held the kitten, Casper, up so it wouldn’t be crushed. “Hey! You could have hurt Casper!”
Danny shook his head, “Nah, you got him.”
She put Casper down and let him wander a bit, finding his way to Danny’s lap. Danny put down his own kitten so they could play. “Now you gotta name the black one.”
Danny looked at Ellie and sighed when he realized she was serious. He looked down and scratched the little things head. “Batman,” he deadpanned and earned a shove back. He cackled.
“No way! That would be so embarrassing if your vigilante friends came back!”
“Yeah, yeah,” not even bothering to argue about the ‘friend’ title, he kept looking at the kitten. “Reaper,” he settled on. Ellie thought it over.
“Casper and Reaper. I like it.”
Danny smiled at her and then frowned, sighing.
“I guess this means we need to go on a supply run then, huh?”
She just shot him a toothy grin in response.
—
Danny let out a steadying breath as his phone rang for their impromptu group call that Danny had asked the gang, including Jazz, to have earlier than their usual weekly recap sessions. Ellie rolled her eyes and pressed the answer button for him, crowding in close to him so her face could be seen along with his own. They had agreed that it was time to let everyone in on the little vigilante snooping problem they were having now that the heroes had made it clear they weren’t going to be leaving the issue alone, and Danny was not looking forward to it.
“Alright, Danny, what shitshow did you get yourself into this time?” Sam’s despondent voice asked and Danny gasped in offense.
“Hey, what makes you think I got myself into trouble? Can’t a guy just want to talk with his best friends?”
Four unimpressed glares stared back at him and he cringed a bit as Ellie cackled.
“Yeah, dude, what’s going on?” Tucker asked, worry clear in his voice and Danny felt a bit bad for not giving them any details past the need for a call.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so you know how Gotham has it’s hoard of vigilantes?”
Valerie narrowed her eyes, “The group of bat furries? Yeah, D, we helped with the research before you moved there, we know all about them.”
Danny huffed a laugh, “Yeah, well,” he drew out the word and Ellie elbowed him with an eye roll.
“Danny got himself a couple of vigilante stalkers who are now very interested in Amity and all things ghosts.”
Danny sighed and glared at Ellie who just shrugged, “What? It’s true and you were taking forever to say it.”
“Yeah, but I was trying to find a way that wouldn’t do that,” he gestured to the four sets of incredulous eyes blinking back at them. Ellie shrugged again.
“What the fuck, Danny?” Sam exclaimed at the same time as Jazz groaned his name, while Val buried her face in her hands and Tucker started tapping furiously on his PDA.
“Okay, so apparently cutting through some sketchy alleyways and stopping a few muggings while invisible is a pretty good way to get on the city’s protector’s radar, who’d have thunk?”
Sam and Jazz’s eyes widened a bit more, “Danny, please do not tell us that you’ve been using Phantom to stop petty crime in a city that we specifically all agreed that you’d not moonlight in because of the risk of the fucking Batman finding you out.”
Jazz swearing was never a good sign. Danny held his hands up. “Hey! I’m not that dumb!”
Ellie tilted her head with a unconvinced, “Eh,” and Danny pushed her away with a bit of his ghostly strength as she just cackled and didn’t budge much. Stupid ghost clone sisters.
“Seriously, I’m not moonlighting as Phantom, I promise!” Danny turned his attention back to the phone.
“Yeah,” Ellie chimed in, “he’s just gaslighting Red Robin and Red Hood into thinking that he’s being haunted by Phantom.”
Danny groaned again, “Seriously, El, you are not helping.”
“Oh, I think she’s being very enlightening,” Val disagreed, finally lifting her head from her hands to glare at Danny who shrunk back a bit against the force of it. “Now, elaborate.”
“Okay, so it started with Red Hood who kinda saw me let a thug’s fist phase through me when I was getting lightly mugged and he assumed I was a meta, which, honestly was rude and discriminatory if I’m being honest, and I called him out on it too but then he showed up in my apartment a few days later with Red Robin who called me by my old name and had a bunch of creepy stalker-photos of me and the crime scenes and also accused me of being involved with them, so I may have bullshitted and dropped some hints about Amity and ghosts, so,” he sucked in a gulping breath at the end and shrugged, feigning nonchalance “that’s that.”
The silence was damning as they all stared at him and let the rambling words sink in. Tucker was the first to break it.
“So, let me get this straight. You decided it was a good idea to turn yourself invisible to stop some crime, despite the city being under heavy surveillance by the Bats, which I definitely remember warning you about, by the way,” Danny flinched a bit at the reminder, but Tucker continued on, “and then got yourself caught and on the radar of at least two of the city’s vigilantes who confronted you about it and clearly did a background check if they were able to find your parents’ last name and you decided that it was a good idea to tell them to look deeper into Amity and your parents so they would hopefully assume that not only ghosts are in fact real, something we’re apparently assuming they did not know before, but that you brought one with you into Batman’s city and it’s running around stopping criminals? Did I get everything?”
“Oh, and he invited Red Hood to have dinner with him!” Ellie grinned and Danny dropped his head to the desk, whining pitifully at the resounding chaos that her words brought. The portal should have killed him all the way when it had the chance. His life would have been so much simpler.
When the brutal ribbing finally died down, Danny was able to, unsuccessfully, explain and got even more teasing and accusations of having some serious lapses in judgment thrown at him. Eventually, they got back to the serious topics and Danny was more flustered and exhausted than he’d ever remembered being since his disastrous crush on Paulina in freshman year.
“Okay, but seriously, how do we want to handle this situation?” Jazz asked and they all sobered up. “I mean, we’re facing a serious risk of exposure here. Not only with just the existence of ghosts, but dredging up every incident in Amity Park and possibly the existence of the Realms as well. If the Justice League gets involved, this could get real bad real quick, Danny.”
Danny sighed, “I know. I need to talk with the Council and see exactly how they want to handle this as well, but,” he hesitated, not sure why he was apprehensive about sharing the information but he knew they all had their grievances with the League and some unflattering opinions born by their silence and lack of response over the years. “But I have a feeling that the League may not even know anything about Amity or ghosts,” he heard some scoffing and twisted his mouth a bit, “I know. I know what we’ve thought over the years but I mean, Red Robin looked into Amity and didn’t find anything about distress calls or our ghost problems? That doesn’t sit right with me. If they knew about us and were purposefully not helping, then surely they would at least recognize the name, right? They’d have information and files, but both Hood and Red seemed so genuinely confused and shocked by the little information I gave and then I asked about if the League had call logs and Hood said they’d look into them. At the very least, I don’t think the Bats have any clue about any of it.”
Tucker didn’t look very convinced, but his voice was careful when he said, “Or it means that they’re operating with more secrecy and have the files protected. I mean, I know Batman is a full member of the League, but none of the other Gotham vigilantes are, right?” Danny wracked his brain to try and remember if that was true, while the rest of them nodded in agreement.
“Even if your vigilantes don’t know, that doesn’t mean that Batman and the rest of the League aren’t still involved and possibly against us,” Val said soft but firm and Danny chewed at his lip. He knew they were right, but he really, really wanted to believe that the heroes were better than that. That if they truly knew what was going on, they would try to help, as they had with the meta rights protection Acts. That they would at least want to hear the ghosts out and not blindly go off of the GIW and Drs. Fenton’s biased words alone.
“Listen,” Jazz’s voice was soft as well and her eyes were full of concern through the screen, “like you said, your vigilantes seem to be keeping this information to themselves for now, right?” Danny nodded, slightly amused that they kept referring to Red and Hood as his vigilantes, and she continued, “So let’s see what they come up with. Let’s see if they’re willing to listen and help, or if they have any information on what the League may or may not know before we panic. Danny, talk with the council and see what they have to say about it all and we’ll go from there.”
He appreciated her trying to stay positive and not going into doomsday prep. He knew the worst case scenario would result in him having to leave Gotham. He knew that would crush him. He really, really hoped that his vigilantes would try to help, that they would hear him out. If not, then Danny didn’t know if he could handle giving up his and Ellie’s chance at a (relatively) normal life with (relatively) normal friends.
The thought settled like a stone in his stomach, heavy and painful. He hoped for the better outcome, for both his own sake and the sake of his little sister’s.
𓆩⟡𓆪
Jason’s run in with Danny at the coffee shop was certainly a happy surprise. Well, it was an embarrassing and awkward shitshow but after Jason got over the initial mortification of literally dousing the poor guy in his own coffee he could admit that the interaction ended about as good as it could have. He had successfully gotten Danny’s number and Tim’s awful concoction of almost pure espresso shots seemed to be a hit, which didn’t surprise Jason at all with how much Danny looked like a particularly handsome zombie, his eye bags nearly as dark as B’s stupid black eye paint he insisted on smearing beneath the cowl to further the ‘mystery’ or whatever the old man insisted on (Jason just thought it made him look like one of the soggy emo teenagers that sulked around the music shops, but Bruce never seemed to care much about Jason’s opinions so if the old man wanted to look like a poor imitation of a raccoon, then so be it).
If Jason didn’t have a skewed perspective on what healthy sleeping habits were he might have been more worried for Danny, but he knew that the sleep deprivation would undoubtedly be chalked up to college stress and projects and his eyes had been more lively after a few sips of the coffee so he figured Danny would be fine. Plus, the knowledge that he could now check up on the guy via text to make sure he wasn’t actually at risk of passing out while walking helped. A lot.
The interaction was nearly enough to distract Jason from what he had even been at that coffee shop for in the first place. Nearly.
He had agreed to meet with Tim to discuss what the detective had been able to pull from the call log search, and the results were more harrowing than either of them anticipated. Amity Park had made hundreds of distress calls, starting from six years ago all of varying intensities and importance and spanning nearly two years until they abruptly stopped. All of them had been marked ‘RESOLVED’ nearly as fast as they had come in, without a corresponding incident report or an ID stamp to show who had responded to the messages, which shouldn’t have even been possible with how the system was set up to prevent exactly that from happening. It was very clear that whoever had done it went through drastic measures to make sure no one else knew about it or checked into Amity Park.
Worst and most worrying of all were the last distress messages sent, spanning four days:
AMITY HAS BEEN TAKEN. PLEASE HELP.
48 HOURS STRANDED IN THE ZONE. NO END IN SIGHT. WE NEED HELP.
PARIAH IS ATTACKING. AMITY WILL BE LOST. HELP. US.
PLEASE. ANYONE.
Tim hadn’t been able to find any record of what might have possibly happened to Amity Park to warrant that message (or who or what ‘Pariah’ might be), but it was the last one ever sent, nearly four years ago. Tim had verified that Amity was indeed still around and from what he found, everything seemed fine. But it was clear that something had happened and that the League hadn’t stepped in to help. It was worrying, to say the least, and Jason couldn’t stop replaying the way Danny had sounded and the tense resignation in his face when he asked Jason to look into it.
They had mentioned bringing Bruce into the loop to see if he knew anything about it, but they had both ultimately decided to talk to Danny once more to see if he’d offer any information before dragging the League into it (especially when it was clear that Danny didn’t trust the League to help at this point).
Tim hadn’t been able to scrounge much up about the mysterious GIW, though he had managed to find more of the Drs. Fenton’s research along with seemingly endless designs and patents of various weapons and machines all intended for working on ghosts, or ecto-entities as they put it. Their research on ectoplasm was apparently highly interesting according to Tim and had sent him into a deep rabbit hole, but Jason was more focused on finding the GIW and trying to figure out how exactly Danny fit into this whole thing.
Tim had left in a rush after realizing the time but Jason lingered a while after, mind still racing. Which is how he ended up disgracing himself by stumbling into Danny and leaving with a racing heart as those bright blue eyes followed him, making him itch with the urge to turn back around and ask every question that was burning to be answered.
The roar of his engine and wind whipping through his jacket was a decent distraction, and donning the suit and helmet was even better. He didn’t usually patrol when the sun was still out, but he needed something to curb the restless energy that made his limbs buzz and he had nothing else to do that day.
His mind wandered back to Danny at every spare moment, trying to parse together the connection between him and the supposed ghost that had tagged along to Gotham. It didn’t make sense to Jason, why a ghost would attach itself to someone who’s parents were so extremely dedicated to the forceful research of said ecto-entities. He would assume something like that would stay as far away from the Drs. Fenton’s as possible if they didn’t want to be caught and experimented on. (Which, from their research sounded like a possibility, though Jason also didn’t understand how one could experiment on a ghost. He was getting tired of all the things he didn’t understand.)
He struck unexpected gold while talking to one of the street kids he watched out for in exchange for information (at least, that’s what the kids thought the agreement was — the information was just a bonus to Jason who’d look out for the kids regardless, but he remembered being a street rat himself and how any act of kindness could feel like a trap, the need to be square and even to avoid owing someone more than you could give).
The mention of some weird guys in white suits normally wouldn’t give him more than a second’s pause, but now it set alarm bells off and when asked for more specifics he found himself talking with a few of his other contacts and getting confirmation that there seemed to be quite a few of these mysterious ‘guys in white’ roaming around Gotham, close enough to Crime Alley to be noticed by some of the residents but never doing anything to warrant further scrutiny.
No one seemed to know how many there were or where they operated out of (or what their goals were, if any), but he had a gut feeling that they were the same group that Danny had described and asked a few people to keep a closer eye on any of the men that they could, hoping to be able to solve at least part of the mystery Danny had presented them.
𓆩⟡𓆪
Every conversation with Danny was both enlightening and completely frustrating.
Tim had a long list of subjects to research but finding any information on Amity or these ‘Guys In White’ was like pulling teeth. He scoured the internet for articles or statements and came away with frustratingly little to show for it.
He had found a few promising blogs from various Amity Park residents that mentioned ghosts and the name Phantom in particular, and had most of his luck with a niche high school newspaper archive he finally tracked down that provided grainy pictures of said resident ‘ghost boy’ and various tales of attacks that Tim knew better than to think were exaggerated based on the quantity and subjects of the distress calls the League had received and had marked as ‘resolved’, but what the hell. He didn’t understand how rogues as powerful as these had flown under the League’s radar all this time, and he was still in the process of figuring out who, exactly, had fucked with the calls and left Amity to the mercy of a truly staggering amount of rogues with no back up.
Tim was nearly ready to make a trip to Amity himself to see what the fuck was going on. Hell, he was about ready to go to Batman with everything and let him flush out the incompetent asshole and put the fear of Vengeance into whoever fucked up this badly. But, that would have to wait. Tim needed more concrete proof, needed a complete report before he went to Bruce with the subject of ghosts and despite his logic, he also wanted to keep working with Danny before bringing others into this mess. He wanted to trust the guy, and he wanted Danny to trust them to be able to help. He’d clearly already been failed by the League, Tim didn’t want to burn him twice.
Surprisingly, it was Jason who found the most valuable information regarding the GIW.
“Apparently they were officially disbanded several years ago, but there’s a rogue group of ex-operatives that are trying to keep things going. And guess where they’re based out of?”
Tim sighed. “Is B going to like this?”
“Absolutely not,” Jason said grimly.
“Well, fuck. Do you have any information on exactly where?”
Jason sighed, “No. Getting the little information I got was a fucking pain in my ass, but I have eyes out and hopefully I’ll get a location soon.”
Tim decided he didn’t want to know how Jason got the intel and sighed, looking down at their spread of information. It was depressing him. “Yeah, same here. It’s like everything that I’m searching for specifically has been fucking scrubbed from the internet. It’s infuriating.”
Jason grunted in agreement and leaned back in his seat, staring at the files and news article copies and still-fuzzy despite being enhanced photos. Tim was snapped out of his own musings when Jason suddenly sat upright with a, “Fuck me.”
“What?” Tim asked in fervor.
“Get me a notepad and pen,” Tim did as asked without complaint, a true testament to how badly he wanted to figure this shit out.
He watched over Jason’s shoulder as he started to make a list and what — oh.
Oh.
“Holy shit.”
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Alternate au: Prologue
Cesar asks his best friend Mark for a small favor in the middle of the night, but never considered the terrible things his request would cause.
Notes: uh, hey! never posted my writing before, so. here’s something for the alternate au! It’s around 6500 words, so it’s a bit of a long read, but I hope you guys like it anyway.
TW: possible suicide implication, death, and blood
Mark was awoken in the middle of the night to the rotary phone in the living room ringing. It was faint, as it was situated downstairs from his bedroom, but still loud enough to wake him from a deep sleep. He stirred awake, groaning as he regained his bearings. His chestnut-colored hair was a mess, but he wasn’t planning on fixing it; not that late at night anyway. He stood up, walking over the piles of snack wrappers and dirty clothes in his room as he made his way downstairs to the living room. He sighed, grabbing onto the phone before lifting it up to his ear. “Hello?” He asked, trying to use his best “I’ve been awake for a while” voice.
“Hey, uh, Mark, it’s Cesar…I…I hope it’s not too late.” It was the voice of a young man, though he sounded a tad more worried than his usual upbeat tone.
“No, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Mark assured. “What’s going on, are you alright?”
“It’s…it’s not me, it’s my mom.” Cesar explained. “I found her on the ground; she…she was knocked out cold, and I don’t know why.” Cesar paced back in forth in the local hospital, holding the cell phone up to his ear as he rubbed his arm with his free hand. “We…w-we got home from my piano recital, and she…I found her on the ground after she went into the other room.” Cesar glanced down at his suit; a black tuxedo complimented by a white undershirt, a red bowtie, and a rose pinned to his lapel. He didn’t feel it was the most appropriate clothing to wear at the moment, but he didn’t have the time nor the energy to change.
“Is…is there anything I can do to help?” Mark asked, unsure of how to feel due to how exhausted he felt.
“I…I’m sorry, but could you…go over to my house?” Cesar requested. “To turn on the cameras we have set up…the ones we installed after we were robbed?”
“Yeah, of course.” Mark said. “Can I ask…why?”
“I…I was wondering if…she saw something.” Cesar sighed. “She screamed really loud, so…I-I don’t know.”
“Did you have all your doors and windows locked?” Mark asked. “Like what the broadcast told us to do?”
“Yeah, that’s the weird part.” Cesar said. “I…I just…”
“I’ll be over in a while,” Mark said. “But I’m just going to turn them on and get out of there. You…you know how I feel about your house.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Cesar said. “Oh, could you…make sure the back hallway cam is on? That hallway specifically…i-it’s been weird.”
“…Okay?”
“Thank you…it…it means more than you can think.” Cesar said. “I owe you big time.”
“It’s no problem, really.” Mark shrugged.
“I’m at the hospital now, so…I’ll talk to you later.” Cesar sighed. “Thank you again…see ya.”
“See you too. Goodbye.” Mark heard the line disconnect, sighing deeply as he mentally prepared himself to leave. It had been a while since he left the house, and he wasn’t too keen on leaving while it was dark out. However, it was Cesar; Cesar had done so much for him, so doing one simple favor wouldn’t be the end of the world. Mark looked down at his clothes, which were a light grey sweatshirt over a black T-shirt along with dull pink sweatpants. He decided it wasn’t worth the effort to change out of his pajamas; it wasn’t like he had anyone he needed to impress that night.
As he approached the front door, he paused, staring at the door knob before pulling his hand back. He jogged back to his room, looking around before his gaze landed on his nightstand. He pulled open the drawer, rummaging through the crumpled papers and junk before he grabbed something. He pulled it out, revealing a pistol in its own holster. He took it out of its leather cover, removing the clip before looking into it, seeing that it was in fact loaded. He sighed quietly before putting the clip back into the firearm, deciding that he was now ready to leave the house.
The roads were cloaked in an inky black darkness, only broken when the headlights of Mark’s car pierced through them. His pensive stare was fixed on the road before him, wondering when he was finally going to make it to Cesar’s house. If there was one thing he hated about his friendship with Cesar, it would have been the nearly hour long drive between their houses. Living outside of town might have been a good choice for one who likes silence, but not for someone who wanted to be on time for school every morning. No wonder Cesar was almost always late for the first class of the day.
Mark turned off of the main road, driving into a small gravel lane as his car traversed the unsteady road. Mark glanced towards the edge of the woods, the trees of which lining both sides of the street. The woods seemed somehow darker that night, with no light shining through the leaves, covering the forest floor in shadows. When Mark’s headlights caught something in the distance however, he was finally allowed to let out his breath. It didn’t prevent his dread from growing however, as he now had to face the fact that he was now at Cesar’s house.
Mark’s lights hit the white garage door and the front door to the right of it. The red brick walls faded into the darkness outside of the range of light, as if the night was consuming the house altogether. Mark reached for his car keys, but hesitated to pull them out of the ignition. He looked at the garage door, seeing the light the headlights offered before pulling his hands away from the keys. He may have had a flashlight and a firearm with him, but that wasn’t nearly enough to ease his stress. At least knowing the car was there and working would help.
Mark left the safety of his vehicle, approaching the wooden door and reaching for the door knob. To his surprise, it was unlocked, and despite the dread in his chest building, Mark chalked it up to Cesar trying to be nice and saving Mark the effort of remembering where they left the key. That, or Cesar was in too much of a rush to remember to lock it. Either way, Mark had a job to do; go in, turn on the cameras, and get out. It was that simple.
Mark flicked every light in the house on as he walked through the rooms, turning on every camera he found. He was as swift and silent as a mouse, hoping that the quicker he turned everything on, the quicker he would be able to leave. He may have been rushing more than necessary, though he wasn’t wishing to stay in that creepy house any longer than he absolutely had to. Something about the dark halls and silent rooms made Mark’s skin crawl, as if he was constantly being watched by someone.
When he reached the final camera, he flicked it on, seeing the small red light flash. “Thank God…” Mark sighed, stepping away from the camera. He turned and walked the opposite direction, leaving the bedroom where the camera was fixed and towards the front door. His joy over being able to leave was short lived however, as he remembered that there was still one more camera that was inactive; the back hallway.
Mark looked towards the hallway from the living room, seeing the shadows concealing its walls. Something in Mark gave him the urge to just leave it behind, go home, and go back to sleep, but Cesar mentioned that camera specifically. If Cesar came home to see the camera not on, who knew what it would do to his trust in Mark? With that thought alone, Mark sucked up his fear and walked into the hallway.
He looked up at the camera in the top corner of the hall, wondering how he could turn it on if it wasn’t even within his reach. To his knowledge, Cesar and his mother didn’t have a ladder hanging around in a convenient spot, so Mark figured that stretching his arms out as far as possible would be a better option. He raised his arms, gritting his teeth as he stood on his toes, his hands just barely reaching the camera. When his hands made contact, Mark quickly flicked it on, immediately dropping back onto his feet with a slight smile on his face. “There we go…” He whispered as he turned back towards the living room, finally ready to leave that freaky house and have a nice night’s sleep.
“Mark?” Cesar’s voice was faint, but distinguishable. Despite its familiarity, it still made Mark flinch.
“Cesar?” Mark turned around, towards one of the dark guest rooms where the voice originated. “…I…I thought you were at the hospital?”
“I…I’m sorry, but could you…go over to my house?” Cesar asked.
“I…I’m already here, dude—”
“Yeah, it’s not me it’s my mom.” Cesar’s voice continued. “She’s knocked out cold and I have no idea why.”
“…Uh…Cesar…?” Mark’s weird feeling only became worse, forcing him to start backing away from the back room. “This better not be one of your fucking jokes, man—”
“Yeah of course…may I ask why?” That specific line made Mark realize something; a realization that made his blood run cold. That voice was his own, meaning whatever was in the room, and whatever he was talking to, was not Cesar.
Mark scrambled towards the front door, slamming into it and forcing it open. His shoulder stung from the impact, the pain reverberating down his arm, but he wasn’t in the position to care. The faint sound of laugher was heard from the house as Mark rushed to his car, only giving more reason to not look back. He dove into his car, feeling overwhelming gladness over the fact that he left the keys in the ignition. He backed the vehicle away from the house, swinging the car around before he sped down the gravel road.
He must have been going at least double the speed limit down the main road, but Mark’s pure fear outweighed his rational thoughts. He never even saw what was in the house, but Mark knew deep down that whatever was in the other room was a much more powerful, much more malicious being than Mark could ever be. If the broadcast on beings called “alternates” was as true as it seemed, than Mark could be sure that whatever was there was one of them. He just hoped that he left soon enough to lose it.
He slammed on the breaks as soon as he made it to his house, climbing out of the car, closing the door, and sprinting inside, his breath harsh and heavy. He threw the front door open before slamming it shut behind him, locking every single lock on it. He frantically glanced around, his eyes fixating on a table right beside the door, with nothing but a small vase on top of it. Mark grasped onto the corners of the table pulling it towards the door before shoving it in front of it, blocking it off.
He gasped, but he wasn’t able to catch his breath just yet, as he had multiple doors and windows he had to give the same treatment. He hurried from one edge of the house to the other, blocking off doors and locking every window he ran by. When he knew for certain that every single entrance was blocked off, he finished his dash by approaching his phone, picking it up before dialing 911. “Come on…please…” Mark gasped, hearing the line buzz.
“You’ve reached the Mandela County Police Department, what is your emergency?” The operator on the other end stated. It may not have been a typical 911 operator, but Mark was willing to take anything.
“H-Hello?” Mark stammered. “I-I was…I…I don’t—I need the police.”
“Please calm down, sir,” The operator said calmly. “Can you describe your emergency?”
“I-I was…I was at a friend’s house, a-and I heard something…It...It sounded…like my friend, and then it sounded like me!” Mark explained. “I drove away, but…I don’t know, what if he gets home and…it’s there?”
The operator didn’t respond to that comment, remaining strangely silent.
“P-Please…help me, I don’t know if it followed me or not.” Mark begged.
“Alright, calm down…help is on the way.” The operator hung up, and the phone let out a faint beeping noise as Mark stared at it.
“Wh-Why would—” Mark threw the phone down, grasping onto his head. Why the fuck would a 911 operator hang up?! Was that not something they were specifically told not to do?! Mark paced around his living room, forcing himself to take in deep breaths in order to calm himself down. He stared at the ceiling, freezing when something crossed his mind; where was his gun? He looked down at his body, not seeing the small holster anywhere on him. When he saw nothing, he slowly looked back at the front door, realizing he had forgotten it in the car.
Mark had two options before him; he could either hope and pray that the alternate didn’t follow him and leave the doors blocked off, or he could quickly run outside, grab the gun, and then go back inside. Without the firearm, Mark was alone and defenseless, and he wasn’t the type to take chances. He stared at the front door, breathing in deeply before he pensively approached the door, slowly shifting the table blocking it to the side. “Lord, give me strength,” Mark muttered under his breath as he unlocked the door. “…may you have mercy on me.”
He swung open the door, running towards his car as fast as he could manage. He threw open the car door before climbing in half way, rummaging through the messy car. “Where the fuck is it?” Mark questioned frantically, wondering where the hell he put it. He opened the storage compartment between the front seats, finally seeing the pistol resting inside. He grasped onto it before sliding out of the car, slamming the door behind him.
He ripped the holster off of the pistol, grasping onto the gun’s handle with an iron grip. He sighed, glancing down the road as he backed towards his house. He nearly froze when he started hearing something in the distance; indistinguishable words that Mark couldn’t make out. He stared down the road, hearing the words slowly become louder.
“God help me…” Mark said as he backed away.
Soon enough, his fears were realized, as he soon saw the figure producing the sounds. It was humanoid, with warped features that made Mark’s skin crawl. Its gangly legs were carrying it down the street, barely visible through the nightly darkness.
“God save me.” Mark whispered.
Mark scrambled towards his door, ignoring the laughing he heard outside before he threw the door behind him closed, only turning around to lock it tight. He once again grabbed onto the table, pulling it towards the door to block it off. However, a loud crash against the door made Mark stumble back, nearly falling to the ground. He swung his arm up, pointing the pistol towards the door with trembling hands, trying to conceal the sheer horror he felt growing inside of him.
“Mark…” The fake voice of Cesar called in a sing song voice, muffled by the wall separating it and Mark. “Open the door…I have a present for you…”
Mark wasn’t sure whether he should command it to leave or stay silent, hoping it would get bored and leave. However, he wasn’t sure if he could yell even if he wanted to, as any words he could say became stuck in his throat. Instead of saying anything, Mark fled from the living room, rushing up the stairway before seeking refuge in his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, locking it before backing away, still able to hear the increasingly aggressive knocking from the front door. He looked behind him, seeing the messy room and the items within, involving an unplugged television, a tape recorder, an empty notebook, and a few other random things Mark had lying around. However, the thing he took interest in wasn’t any of the objects he had; instead, it was the window on the wall adjacent to the door.
Mark rushed towards it, sliding it open before looking down. He got vertigo just by staring down at the front yard from the second story. With no roof or ledge to grab onto below, there was no way to escape that way without leaving with a broken leg. He stared forward, being able to see the lights of the town in the distance, breaking through the dark night. It was as if the thought of freedom was taunting him.
He couldn’t help but remember something about the movies he always watched. He and Cesar would often have a horror movie night, and both he and Mark noticed that the would-be victim always seemed to run up the stairs or down into the basement instead of leaving through the front door. So many exits, yet they always seemed to choose the worst one. Mark would laugh about how stupid they were when they got killed by the villain, but now he had no room to. He just fell into the same trap that oh so many horror movie characters fell into. He ran up the stairs, and he was now the victim-to-be.
He could hear the sound of one of the first floor windows smashing open, with the noise piercing his ears. He felt his heart sink as he closed the window and turned around, pressing his back against the wall before slinking to the ground. He turned to the nightstand resting to his right before rummaging through the drawer. He grabbed onto a book, the Holy Bible, before hugging it tightly, sobbing softly as he heard the thing creep up the stairs.
He muttered prayer after prayer, wondering what he had done to deserve such a fate. The false voice of his once good friend, beckoning him into a death trap, allowing something beyond his comprehension to follow him to the place he once saw as safe. He never wanted a favor; all “Cesar” wanted was to lure Mark to his death. Mark couldn’t think of any other explanation. What happened to the real Cesar he couldn’t tell, but all he knew is that something malevolent was right outside. He was all alone, and the MCPD wasn’t going to help him; he felt it in his bones. Otherwise, wouldn’t he have heard the sirens by then?
“Mark…I have a gift for you!” The voice outside Mark’s door claimed, its voice distorting like a busted VHS.
“Damn you…damn you…” Mark cried, his wide eyes staring at the floor in front of him as he huddled his knees close to his chest. “God damn you…”
He had no clue how long it was going to be before the thing left, but Mark had no choice but to wait. All he knew is that he didn’t want to see what was on the other side of that door.
Cesar; You fucking bastard.
Cesar sat in a small, uncomfortable chair as he stared at his unconscious mother on the hospital bed. His arms were huddled close to his chest, his shaky hands gently rubbing his arms as if he was hugging himself. His lips were pursed together, and he didn’t even bother moving his wavy black hair out of his face. All he could hear was the sound of the hospitals many machines and phones, along with the heart monitor next to the bed.
He sighed quietly, leaning back in his seat before his gaze turned towards his feet. It was nearing one in the morning, judging by the ticking clock in the corner of the room. Cesar was beginning to notice how exhausted he felt as his stress and adrenaline faded away. He wondered how long it would take for the doctor to tell him what happened to her, but as the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes turned into hours, he didn’t count on that possibility.
He shook his head slightly, standing up before hesitantly leaving the room. He stood outside of the hospital room, clutching his mobile phone, dialing a few numbers, and holding it up to his ear. He put his free hand into his pants pocket, glancing from one end of the hallway to the other, hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble for having his phone on.
The rotary phone in Mark’s living room let out a loud ring, echoing throughout the silent home. It rang and rang, yet no one came to answer it.
“You have reached the automated voice messaging system—” Cesar’s phone played the message, making him sigh in disappointment. “If you’d like to leave a message, please speak after the tone.” After a high pitched beep played, Cesar didn’t hesitate to take that offer.
“Uh, hey, it’s Cesar…I just…wanted to catch up with you and uh…” Cesar sighed. “And see if you turned all the cameras on. Mom seems to be doing well, but she’s…still asleep. Just call me when you get the message, okay? I’ll see you later. Bye.” Cesar hung up the phone, staring at nothing in particular. He stared forward, feeling a strange sensation in his gut. Mark was probably asleep at that point, so maybe it was best to call in the morning.
Cesar’s feeling of dread was becoming worse. He laid across the loveseat in his living room, his eyes staring at the Television in front of him, though he wasn’t necessarily paying attention to the channel playing. It had been three days since he last spoke with Mark, with every call he made only resulting in another voicemail. Cesar understood that Mark wasn’t the most outspoken, social type, but he never ignored calls for days at a time.
Cesar’s mother walked into the living room, noticing Cesar watching the same evening programs he had already seen a thousand times. “Do you want anything special for dinner, Niño?” His mother asked.
“I’ll…I’ll just have the leftovers in the fridge.” Cesar responded, glancing towards his mother briefly before looking back towards the TV. His mother frowned slightly before she walked back into the kitchen. Cesar held his head up with the palm of his hand, his brows furrowed and his gaze distant.
“I just…don’t…get it.” Cesar stated.
“Don’t get what?” His mother asked from the other room. “Is everything alright?”
“…I…I don’t know.” Cesar muttered, rubbing his eyes with his hands.
His mother leaned into the doorway between rooms, seeing Cesar sit up on the couch, hunched over with his elbows pressed against his knees. It was possibly the gloomiest his mother had seen him in a long time.
“Do you need anything?” She offered, her brows tilting upwards.
Cesar sighed slightly before crossing his arms. “…I…maybe I should go check on him.” Cesar muttered, standing up quickly before grabbing his car keys from the side table. “Something doesn’t seem right.”
“Check on who?”
“Mark.” Cesar responded. “He hasn’t called me in over three days. I…I’m afraid something might’ve happened.”
As Cesar stormed towards the door, his mother called from the living room. “But what about the curfew?”
“To hell with the curfew.” Cesar responded before slamming the front door shut behind him.
His mother could hear his car’s engine rumble as he backed out of the driveway. She furrowed her brows, folding her hands in front of her stomach as she thought to herself. Half of her was happy to see that her son was as sympathetic and caring as he was, though the other half was worried of him getting into more trouble than he bargained for. However, she was snapped out of her intense thinking when she heard the glass doors leading to one of the back rooms slide open. She looked towards the back hallway, feeling a chill go up her spine. “Hello?”
Cesar spent the long drive to Mark’s house weltering in trepidation. Something in his gut didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t place what he was feeling or why he was feeling it. The sun was setting in the horizon, with the leaves of the trees beginning to rot in preparation for autumn. It was chilly outside that specific night, with the cool air in Cesar’s car hitting his skin. In hindsight, he should have slipped on a hoodie, but he wasn’t in the mood to care about the chill weather. If Mark was in trouble, Cesar would be the first to help him.
Cesar pulled into Mark’s driveway, seeing his car parked in front of the door. He stopped next to it before he opened his door and stepped outside, looking up at the two-story home as the chilly fall air hit his face. The light grey paint on the side panels was beginning to chip off, making it almost look unkempt. Cesar didn’t recall it looking like it hadn’t been kept in shape for a long time, though he figured it had been a while since he visited Mark’s house, and Mark’s busy parents didn’t seem like the type to care about some chipped paint until it made it look abandoned.
He walked towards the front door, knocking on it hard with his intense gaze fixated on it. “Mark?” Cesar called. “You in there?”
There was no response aside from the crickets chirping in the distance. Cesar slammed his fist against the door, echoing a louder series of thumps than before. “Mark, are you alright?” Cesar called louder, hoping Mark would hear. However, the only response was silence once again.
Cesar backed away from the door, staring up at the second story window, where Mark’s room was situated. It was completely dark; in fact, every window was blacked out, and no lights seemed to be on inside the home. It felt lifeless, and Cesar could feel a sense of dread swelling inside of him. Something about looking up at Mark’s bedroom window made Cesar feel as though he was being watched.
He glanced around his feet, seeing a small patch of gravel lining the edge of the driveway before he crouched down and picked up a few stones. He sprung back to his feet before chucking one of the small rocks at Mark’s window. A slight thunk was heard when the rock made impact, and despite Cesar following it up with multiple rock throws, not a single one of them seemed to get any attention from inside the house.
“Damn it.” Cesar groaned, throwing whatever rocks he had left onto the ground. He cupped his mouth with his hands before he began to shout. “MARK! IT’S ME, CESAR! YOU IN THERE?!”
Cesar didn’t know what he expected, but the response was the same either way; no one answered. He backed away, hesitantly walking back to his car. He sat inside of his vehicle, slamming his door shut as he prepared to leave. He slid his hands down his face, groaning as he shook his head slightly. However, when his mobile phone rang on his car’s dashboard, he froze. He picked it up, holding it up as he rubbed his eyes. “Hello?”
No answer came from the phone, instead being a jumbled mess of static and indistinguishable speech. Nothing was recognizable, like someone flipping through channels on the TV as fast as humanly possible.
“…Hello?” Cesar repeated, feeling his heart sink in his chest.
A loud cacophony of inhuman screams erupted from his phone, nearly startling the skin off of Cesar’s bones. It sounded as if the gates of hell were opened on the other side of the phone line. He ripped the phone away from his ear, hearing the caller disconnect. He stared at the phone in his quivering hand before he quickly tossed it to the side and started the engine. He backed out of the driveway, speeding down the road as his eyes darted around the streets before him. He had no clue what was going on, but he knew he had to be fast.
When he finally arrived home, the sun had already set below the horizon, delving everything in darkness. Cesar left his car behind, jogging towards his front door and swinging it open. “Mom!” He looked around the living room, seeing that it was completely empty. It was nearly entirely silent aside from the faint sound of a ticking clock on the wall, its hour hand nearing 8:00.
Cesar quietly closed the door behind him, walking through the living room before entering the kitchen, noticing the light was still on. “Mom?” Cesar called. “You there?” He stepped into the hallway connecting the main bedrooms, noticing that one of the doors was open, leading into one of the guest rooms. There were two sliding glass doors leading outside, and judging by the curtains swaying in the breeze, they were wide open.
Cesar’s eyes were fixed on the open doors, with him almost afraid to look away. “M-Mom?” Cesar called again, glancing down the hall for just a second before looking back at the guest room. Cesar backed away from the open door, his back brushing against the master bedroom door. To his shock, his back simply pushed the door open. He let out a yelp as he slammed against the floor in the bedroom, noticing that the lights were on in there as well.
“Oh…shit.” Cesar groaned as he stumbled to his feet. He turned around, looking into the bedroom as he regained his bearings. He stared towards the wall adjacent to him before his entire body froze in place, paralyzed. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the scene before him.
He could barely even begin to process the amount of blood leaking onto the carpeted floor, oozing down the wall from the lifeless body pinned against it by her hands. She was posed in a cross formation, reminding Cesar of a crucifixion from the stories in the Bible. However, the fact that it was in his bedroom, and that the victim was his own mother made him realize just how barbaric those old punishments really were.
“M-MOM?!” Cesar sobbed, stumbling backwards back into the hallway. His head shook rapidly, his mind refusing to fill in the details of the grizzly scene he witnessed.
Cesar ran out of the hallway and through the kitchen, scrambling towards the front door. He fumbled with the doorknob, nearly tripping over his feet when he finally opened the door and ran out into the front yard. He grabbed onto his mobile phone, sobbing loudly as his shaking hand dialed 911.
“Please…you have to help me…” Cesar begged as soon as he heard the line connect. He covered his mouth, gasping in between his cries of anguish as he attempted to get his scrambled thoughts in order.
“Turn around.” The voice on the phone droned.
“Wh-What?” Cesar stammered.
“Turn…around.” The voice repeated.
Cesar hesitantly obliged, slowly turning around and looking back towards his house. He stared up towards the dark sky above the roof, feeling his hands drop to his sides and his hand loose its clutch on the phone. The phone landed on the grass, though Cesar didn’t even notice. His petrified stare was focused on the figure floating weightlessly above his home.
“…Mark?” Cesar choked.
“Mark” was suspended in the air, his arms hanging by his sides as his bruised hands twitched slightly. He was wearing his grey sweatshirt, though it was stained with crimson, the viscera seeping into the fabric. Cesar couldn’t see his face clearly, as if it was concealed by complete darkness from above. The most Cesar could see were the streaks of blood running down from his head and face, streaming down his neck and onto his clothes. However, Cesar could see one eye peek out of the void above his house, fixated on his cowering form. The necklace around his neck hovered in front of his chest, a small metal cross hanging from the silver chain, though Cesar knew that the thing wearing it was not a thing of God.
Cesar could barely move his legs; paralyzed by his own dread, feeling like he was in some sort of fucked up, vivid nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. It had to be a nightmare…it had to be some sort of fucking nightmare, please let me wake up. “Fuck…fuck.” Cesar forced himself to take a few steps backwards, stumbling over his feet and slamming against the dirt. He watched as Mark began to approach him, descending slowly as Cesar crawled towards his car.
Cesar was finally able to shake off his petrified feeling, sprinting to his vehicle before swinging the door open and leaping inside. He dug into his pocket, almost dropping his keys as he took them out. He started the car, speeding out of the driveway as he stared at Mark, who was now over the front yard, his legs illuminated by the car’s headlights. However, before the car sped down the gravel road, it stopped abruptly, its lights shutting off. “Wh—come on, come the fuck on!” Cesar cried, turning the keys in the ignition, starting the vehicle again. The lights turned back on, revealing Mark had grown closer, with his torso now visible. As soon as Cesar let go of the keys, they turned without even touching them, shutting the vehicle off once again.
Cesar looked through the windshield, seeing the pitch black darkness before him. Cesar started his car again, struggling against the force trying to keep his keys from turning. His car’s headlights lit up Mark’s eerily still form, and Cesar could finally see his face, or what was left of it. A black void peeking through his glass like skin, shattered like a mirror. Cesar didn’t spend much time processing the details; his mind was refusing to comprehend what he was staring at.
With his free hand, he swung the wheel around, turning the car towards the road and slamming his foot against the gas pedal, leaving Mark in the dust. Mark watched as the car sped through the lane, letting out a furious cacophony of yells. He sounded as if he released the screams of the damned, all coming out of one being. He lifted himself into the air, disappearing out of view and into the dark, cloudy sky.
Cesar didn’t give a shit about the speed limit; as soon as he made it to the main road, he pressed the gas pedal onto the floor. He felt that he was on the brink of vomiting, but he forced himself to hold it in, trying in vain to calm himself down. He couldn’t get the image of his mother’s corpse out of his head, and every time he remembered the amount of blood seeping onto the bedroom floor, he only wanted to throw up more. He was running out of tears to cry, resorting to dry sobs. He couldn’t piece together his thoughts, unable to comprehend the position he found himself in. As he stared forward, trying to think of anything he could do, he was snapped out of his thoughts when his headlights hit something in front of him. Mark was suspended in the air in front of Cesar’s vehicle, his eye fixed on the speeding car barreling towards him.
Cesar yelled, swerving the car out of the way, the wind from it blowing against Mark’s unmoving body. Mark watched as Cesar attempted to regain control with no success, instead making it lose whatever control it had. The wheels screeched as it slid across the pavement, leaving dark marks on the road. The car flew off of the road, tumbling into the ditch and towards the forest lining the side of the road, only stopping when the side of it smashed against the trunk of one of the trees. Shrapnel flew in all directions, and the windows shattered into hundreds of razor-sharp shards of glass.
Mark stared at the wreck before him, approaching it slowly before he placed his feet on the grass. The plants below him shriveled up and became a dull brown color as he walked towards Cesar’s car. He peered through the shattered remains of the driver’s side window, seeing Cesar leaned away, blood seeping from the small cuts on his face and chest. He was completely still, and from what Mark could observe, he was no longer breathing. Mark let out a small, infuriated huff as he leaned away from the vehicle, floating up into the dark sky. A pity; he wasn’t even the one to kill him. Mark vanished into the darkness, leaving Cesar behind as silence fell.
Cesar remained still, until his eyelid twitched. He slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the pain he felt coursing through his body. He couldn’t tell if he broke any bones, but he could see that his clothes were beginning to turn a shade of red. Cesar freed himself from his seatbelt, shakily reaching for the door handle and swinging it open. He fell to the ground as soon as the door opened, slamming against the now dead grass. He groaned, barely able to support himself with his arms. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stand up, clenching his jaw as he tried to suppress the sharp pain he felt from the cuts in his skin.
He stumbled back onto the road, clutching his stomach with one of his arms as he stared forward. His back was illuminated by the flickering headlights behind him, being the only source of light nearby. The road stretched on and on for what felt like forever before him, barely illuminated. Cesar took in a deep breath despite the tightness in his chest before he limped down the road as tears ran down his cheeks. His mind was blank, as if his mind was racing fast enough for nothing to be processed.
He glanced at a sign on the side of the road, barely legible through the nightly darkness. He would have felt happy to get out of dodge, but every ounce of joy was already stripped from him. Everything he loved; everything he cared about was gone in an instant. There was nothing left for him if he stayed. As he pushed forward, he wondered if he was destined to die on the side of the road from his wounds. He wondered if that was the end of his journey and if he really should have died in the crash. However, a fate like that wasn’t something he was going to let himself to succumb to. He pressed on, not letting himself rest until he made it to the nearest form of hospitality. He stumbled past the sign, not looking back as he made his way to Bythorne County.
“Thank You for Visiting Mandela Cty, WI. Come Again!”
#mandela catalogue#tmc alternate au#mark heathcliff#alt mark#cesar torres#Cesar Torres (alt au)#tw sui implied#blood#tw death#shmorp writes sometimes#<my new writing tag if I post any more writing of mine after this#feel free to suggest any changes to either the story or give me some feedback on my writing#i'd like to know your thoughts on it#I just thought it would be cool to post my writing for once#because I never did. I only ever shared my writing with like. one person. ever#apologies for the long read I hope it’s worth it#imagine rewriting the entire ending the night before posting it. couldn’t be me
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Polar
vyn x fem!oc | tears of themis ff.
(psychology major!lead)
✦ (2/~) [series fic]
!!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here }
tags: angst, pre-smut, fluff, comfort
cw: mental anguish, interrupted; cut-short sex, panic attacks, love at first sight, slight prejudice, psychology major student x professor? hmmm . . . eventual smut (i promise!), eventual romance
+ supposedly this is a 'x reader' fic but got too heavy eventually, I apologize truly ;;
word count: 2.7k
part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part x
do not repost © yutasbimil (2022)
cont.
Opposite they are to each other.
But being brought too close to each other’s proximity, it’s harder to pull further apart to get away from each of their magnetic fields.
In the same way that alcohol can bring out one’s vulnerabilities… But we can never be sure if spilling these thoughts can drive us closer to the warmth or coldness of those who would hear it.
At first glance there’s always something so entrancing about Vyn the more that Yule watches him. Standing across the room with him it’s clear how he exudes such prestige aura, it’s alluring how upright he stands yet so much feebleness despite his charismatic façade. It all seems like a mask.
Yule spins and twirls her wrist along the glass of wine. Just remembering how Vyn taught her the etiquette of drinking made Yule blush under her skin. Mostly, yes, it’s because of the effects of alcohol kicking in. It at least helped lessen the coldness she feels. Though she felt cold in other aspects, the bitterness outweighs the supposed sweetness of the laughter around her. Expecting the booze to boost off her self-consciousness, it didn’t help a tad bit as she felt her head spin more and the almost empty glass in her hand.
The clear dissonance between her and the white noise crowd signals an ending of the event, or at least to her and her social battery.
She might’ve gone too far to even climb up to attend such a fancy event.
As if on cue, the escort accompanying her takes the glass from her the same as it didn’t even register in her brain that he’s already footsteps close to her.
His breath near her paints a blush on her ears.
Now the redness is because of something else.
“I would suggest you sober up before we head home, m’lady.” The light hoarse in Vyn’s tone signals the lateness of the night. “I do not see clear skies for tonight, I ought to take you home soon so we won’t get caught by the winds.”
“The night seems young though.” And at that slight refuseness in her thoughts, it surprised Yule how it’s been a long while since she doesn’t want to go home yet. Also connecting it to the skin on hers as Vyn is touching her arm for support.
“Sorry to cut the night short, Yule… But I do insist more on your safety.”
The softness of his voice delayed her receptivity more on how she had said her thoughts out loud. The alcohol did the magic for her, and she was on the ride with it.
She knows this is all much of an act, especially for today, but it lingered till days past and it felt like a dream…
Though she had also noticed the distance he draws whenever she steps closer to him, as if she was brought further away the more interactions they are presented with.
This is a peculiar feeling to every meeting.
“What's it like in your hometown?”
The crescent of the moon illuminates along the cold snow that fell on the lady’s nose, she almost shivered at the gaze the taller male gave her. Similar to the white of his hair, his answer seemed frigid.
“I haven’t been there for a long while,” Vyn says.
Silence enveloped them, she almost gasped for warmth as the cold winter air brushed stiffly against them. By instinct she stepped close to him for body heat, he almost filched at the almost contact.
“Oh sorry, do I make you uncomfy?” Yule asks, between the lines, her concern of ‘haven’t we had a close relations contact recently for you to act too surprised this way?’ specifically, to pertain to her choice of words at this moment.
Vyn also took this into account and was as direct as her.
“No, no… It’s just that you are cold,” he states, relating to –at most– the weather. But she quickly caught on to the subtleties.
“Likewise.”
“Hmmm?” Vyn turned to her, eyes caught in the rose hues straight across her face. Her demeanor appeared to be in her favor as it aligned easily with her behavior and sound reasoning.
What acts coy in tone, she says. “This is just because of the cold...” As if covering both her ears isn’t enough, she repeats as she recollected herself.
��It is cold tonight, Dr. Richter.”
She's the type to get cold easily, given that he also has cold hands instead of warmth is… not quite what she expected as to why she filched. She thought at that one time but felt the same thing at this instance… she’s met with rather quivering arms.
She looked at him frozen.
“I am also the type to have cold hands, my body temperature is lower than normal,” Vyn states as if reading a glimpse of her mind.
Despite his cold demeanor, warmth is felt between them. Or at least at her end.
The barrier between them seemed to bubble away as Vyn slightly leaned on her proximity. But which made her intrigued all the more by the sudden shift.
Partially, Vyn noticed he is to blame but even he cannot understand his complexities, what more on observing others behavior… And it is supposedly his profession; Yule cannot reckon this field he planted in.
The shifts didn’t change at the sudden gust of wind as they went just by the front porch of Vyn’s home. Her way home is by his route and talks about such luck she has.
They get caught in the snowstorm.
She’s meaning to just pass by his house for some reference books as she needs them for the following weeks. But by the looks of the hail outside, it cannot be.
As polar they astutely discern each other's personalities, their bodies seem to have found a way to gravitate toward each other.
The warmth of his breath by Yule’s ear had the same effect of a blizzard wind sending down one’s spine.
She didn’t fully know how or why they got into this exact situation, bare skin-to-skin; less than hair strands apart, but it felt right to the bone.
But her head says otherwise, despite Yule’s body yearning for any means to get warmth by body heat. Her body seems automatic as it elicits tones of pleasure. Specifically, asking for Vyn’s skin near her, his lips exploring the surface of her naked skin by her collarbone, more so with how he pulls her close to his chest.
Both their breathing grows more ragged and labored as if exchanging replies along their bodies. Yule moans as he ascends from her territories, Vyn’s vision looks darker towards her darkened crimson cheeks.
“Can I touch you?” Vyn breathed by her ear, momentarily fanning her intense desire. His fingers lingered above her scorching core, with full consent, she quickly led his fingers by her damp panties.
“Ahhh… there, please.” She hissed at his cold fingers digging through the fabric.
With his impatient touch, it’s as if she can’t believe her body can get more blazed, more so as he sets aside her panties as Vyn fingers her.
“Let me treat you well here as well, my lady.” he musters, and she could only gulp a breath of surprise as he went in to make her squirm good at his techniques. Vyn heavily grunts as she clenches more in his fingers, a smile of triumph appears on his face as she slips profanities.
“Fu-fuck… shit- sorry—” Yule covered her foul mouth, quickly turning weak as he curled his digits in her. She almost yelps. “Don’t be… so, g-good.”
Yule could only give in to the pleasure. Her muscles fight over clenching or relaxing over the sensation. Her wetness squelches the deeper Vyn’s fingers buried in and out of her vagina, gaining more grunts and moans from both their lips.
As if a request for more silence, Vyn’s lips crash into hers, turning more aggressive and passionate, opposite to his light touches. Yule’s nails say otherwise, it remains gripped and clenched by his hair. He took it as a validation he was doing so damn well, moving along his lips on her drenched lips down between her legs.
Yule contained all her control not to wrap her legs into his head. But every time he looks up at her, eye-to-eye directly into hers, his lips are devilishly distracting.
She pulled his hair out of frustration.
In between the twists in her stomach overwhelmed with pleasure, there are also evident signs of the looming feeling in her guilt. Particularly feeling good about having sex.
Oh no, shit.
There go her thoughts consumed with her bad view of sex.
She felt disgusted with herself.
The shame takes over her, suddenly feeling insecure and inadequate. Her exposed body felt embarrassing, this is wrong. Yule thinks she’s doing something horribly wrong. Even so, she can’t pinpoint what is at fault really… But still! Maybe I am just using him, taking advantage of him with my body.
Before anything else, she is a virgin, and this is so wrong taking this ounce of opportunity to taint that. But I also want it?
She zones out, feeling out of it as much as his touch is nowhere out of her personal space.
Still, the feeling floods over her like liquid lead. Her consciousness and lucidity are leaking out of her bit by bit.
Crap.
“Yule? Are you okay?” Vyn sounded muffled to her.
The heavy breathing turned more appalling on her end as she felt a familiar enclosed tightness around her chest. It’s anything but pleasurable.
They are cut short of the pre-intercourse the same as her breath.
“Doc… Richter, stop, let’s…” her breathing is a clear sign for Vyn to halt any of their acts progressing. He’s quick to break free and observe.
A blatant sign of a panic attack.
“ Breathe in… catch your breath, properly now.” Vyn’s voice is slow and coherent.
One would be quick not to question the source, even ask about the trigger. But even Yule is ashamed of her helpless, vulnerable state at the moment.
She can’t even look Vyn in the eye.
With his intensity and slight hesitancy to hold and comfort her, Yule predicts she would melt at his touch.
It was worry, and somehow it had more effect on her than the darkened orbs of lust he showed earlier.
She felt a pang in her chest.
Also, her intrusive thoughts and aching core left unsatiated. Her selfishness also crept in, though this is the most inappropriate time to have such indecent thoughts despite being in the obscene act itself.
But it’s more shameful and such a waste they didn’t even reach that point.
Instead, something like this happened, with him tending to her and being a burden–
Why did she let such a chance slip away?
It kept overplaying in her head, although it wasn’t a full-blown panic attack– it was still leading up to that point. But that made her scrunch up into a ball more, closing her walls completely after closing the gap between them.
Yule tries to tap back into her system, even after all that… his touch still lingers in her skin as if she’s still in that present moment. His weight on hers still feels tangible. But the actual weight of the situation and consequence of delving into intimacy further, there and now—
It scared the crap out of her.
Everything makes it more guilty, turning her soft and yet, wet in her core. She wouldn’t admit that, not openly. Fuck…
This is supposed to be like a crush in high school… But his effect on her ought to make a lady out of her.
Why did it have to be the perfect timing they were supposed to do it?
It was awkward after he was about to insert his erection into her drenched core. Although, looking back it’s drenching her more with sweat and distress.
How is it he’s still accommodating to ease her throughout the night, when she's the one who needs to make up for what she did? Or more on, there lack of?
-
A bit after the incident, Yule apologizes to Vyn for acting in such an embarrassing way during their last meeting.
The flush on her face still aches on how cringe or revolting it was replaying in her head. She can’t assess the situation objectively as she can’t even look at him directly.
He’s just quiet across her, opposite to her difficulty to contain her frantic body language.
Vyn sips into his cup, his face is solemn. “It is fine, I am fit to assess such situations.”
But she's still ashamed as fuck of what happened!
She could only muster up an “okay” even if she was far from being fine, lowering her head.
Yule wanted to go, especially on the way she acted, messy and disoriented. The pensive look of the white-haired male in front of her made her more disarray with her thoughts.
Being back in his household feels sacrilegious after such events.
Do I even have a right to be in his presence?
The calm demeanor he portrays across her seat answers her unease, more so the softness of his urgency. “No use beating yourself up, come on, the tea is getting cold. The sweetness of the cake may help ease you up.”
Why is he still doing such nice things, still?
“I would like to apologize as well, I may have gone too fast at your pace,” Vyn says, now there is an evident flush across his pale skin, much opaque but enough to see a difference in his expression. He sighs a deep intake of breath but stops it for sounding heavy. Along with his ever-growing… emotions.
He was driven by irrationality as if he's lost some sense of control that night.
It was evident, even until now, they are both feeling the tension, but on her end, the shame and anxiety, and embarrassment eat her up more.
With Vyn, it’s unclear, but it’s faintly implied that there’s tension. He’s still out to tackle and satiate both of them, and pick up where they both left off.
Only then when she’s fine and ready.
“I-I want to as well but I don't know what's up with my body.” Yule is pertaining more to the sudden ‘attack’. And this rotten brain of hers. She also got it checked on her previous therapy sessions, but it immensely bothers her still… She worries over her lips. “I also got a bit ahead with my alcohol that night, but even without the alcohol, I can affirm that I do like you still.”
Her bravery took him back.
Vyn’s lips curled upwards, finding her eyes to magnetize it back into his, then says. “Can we admit that we are attracted to each other to that certain extent?”
Too soon.
But…
Yule worries her lower lips more. I have been feeling the tension lingering for some quite time now.
At least she's getting better at noticing the signals.
But she's still embarrassed.
“I can say it's reciprocal,” she affirms. The sudden gust of the wind blows the smell of the flowers spread out in his garden, the smell of the pastry and tea reigns back their flavor, blending into their space.
“So what now?” She’s surprised herself for the lack of stutter saying that. Confusion mulled over her, panicked at his warmth remaining at arm's length.
“That is also up to you where you would want this to go, Miss Yule. I am interested in you.” His honesty made her retract.
Yule is overwhelmed as a myriad of thoughts domino over her. She’s growing more and more panicked as the man in front of her is still willing to face her after such inconveniences. Most throw me out.
He even made time to meet up and spare his time to invite her over for tea after.
So how is it that he’s willing to even bother to look at her?
“I don't want to lean in too much on you.” she croaked, the anxiety obvious on taking the weight on her sullen face.
Vyn’s face in contrast deflects her agitation.
“Of course, I wouldn't want you to be overly dependent, but I would be by your side to accompany you, alright?”
※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※
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and i shouldn’t cry, but i love it
johnny joestar x afab! reader
cw: n.sfw, soft sex, post sbr, reader is a tad bit depressed :(
too lazy to get a word count atm, but it’s a tad short^^
a/n: i’m sorry for not being here :(( i’ve been real sick lately, and i’m trying to take care of myself. i’m still pretty sick but definitely not as bad, just very sniffly :(
the quaint house would’ve been silent at this time, it should be and usually is. ever since you’ve gotten back from that life-altering race, nights like these have filled the once somewhat-uncomfortable silence that once plagued your cottage.
- the man you met, johnny joestar, almost immediately flipped your world on it’s side and changed it for the better. he kept you company on those lonely nights in the desert when his friends antics got the best of your tired bodies and minds. whether it be sitting in comfortable silence by the campfire, or cuddling next to each other in a tent, he managed to bring a smile to your face and helped you feel secure with someone. -
but, that was months ago, and ever since then, sweet sounds filled your ears during those depressing moments. and here you are now, listening to them again, experiencing them again.
his sweet touches seemed to linger just a little longer than usual tonight, and his pace seemed slower than usual.
you didn’t want those hot tears to free themselves, but alas, they did. in almost an instant, the man slowed down and raised himself over you.
“are you alright?” he whispered, resting his hand on your cheek.
“i’m doing well, just happy.” you choked out whilst reaching your hands around the blonde, pulling him down into your chest. he lays himself onto you, arms sliding around your figure. his head resting on your right breast.
“i’m guessing. we both needed this.” johnny sighs, turning his head slightly to sneak his way into your neck, leaving soft kisses on his way. the male propped himself up and began to hold your chest whilst continuing the soft pace he set earlier in the night.
#jjba x reader#vic writes#jojo x reader#jjba smut#johnny joestar#jjba x yn#jjba x gn reader#jjba pt 7#sbr#steel ball run
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Quiet Poolside Cuddle
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader
Words: 2.6k
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, insecurity, nsfw activities mentioned, alcohol use
Note: I haven't posted a fic in forever so I'm sorry for whatever this is
It was rare that you ever felt calm when you were at a party. Normally the mixture of loud music, too many people, and not being in your own home puts you too far out of your comfort zone to feel totally at ease. This party seemed to be no exception. For the most part you either liked or knew the people here, but they all know each other far better than they know you. Either current or former military or the family that they’ve also known just as long, make up most of the attendees.
After years of being out of the country, and subsequent months of getting his life back on track, Santiago “Pope” Garcia finally bought himself a permanent home. A gorgeous house with an expansive backyard, and a pool backing onto the edge of a wooded area. The inside was just as beautiful, but the backyard had a cozy feeling to it that reminded you of your own backyard. If it weren’t so cold, maybe the rest of the party would have joined you outside, but as it were you preferred to be by yourself. Too many people and being too loud overall, you needed some peace and quiet.
Shoes sat aside, pretty little things you bought specifically for the party, tossed off when you lowered yourself to the poolside. Your cardigan draped across a chair, leggings pulled up just enough so they stay out of the water as your feet gently kicked themselves back and forth, and the small bowl of grapes you managed to sneak right before sneaking out the sliding back door, sitting by your side being picked at gradually. You considered getting up to scroll through your phone to pass the time, but part of you remembered it was tucked safely in your boyfriend’s jean pocket instead of in your cardigan. Frankie had noticed your pockets were just slightly too small to carry it without risk of falling while navigating through all the people, and offered to hold onto it for you.
You sighed deeply, having Frankie cross your mind. You had been dating him for a number of months now, but after knowing him for years beforehand you sometimes wondered if this fairytale floating feeling you got when thinking about him should be a phase you were over with by now. He was so sweet though, how could you help it? Even now as you sit outside, Frankie is probably inside, nursing a new beer that either Santi or Benny slapped into his hands, being able to simply laugh and joke with these people he’s known for years.
Part of you wondered if you should be inside with him, seeing that giddy smile and slight flush on his face from the alcohol, maybe a tad more affectionate than usual with those around him. The other part of you, maybe the insecure part, thinks he deserves his space. Frankie spends so much time with you lately that he needs to spend time with those he loves without you hovering at all times.
Just to prove you wrong though, as soon as the thought crosses your mind, the sound of the sliding glass door hits your ears. Turning you head, you see the soft smile on Frankie’s face as he slowly closes the door and makes his way towards you. Popping another grape into your mouth you go back to looking at the clearness of the pool water, giving him the chance to take his own shoes off to join your feet in a good chlorinated soak.
His heat envelops you as he sits right next to you, and his hand grasps as your free one, pulling it into his lap so both of his can hold onto it. “Watching Benny and Pope try to outdrink the other isn’t as fun to watch without you there to make fun of them with.”
Frankie’s tone was warm, you could hear the bit of smile without even looking at him. Your own face matched his as well. “Both of them are gonna end up passed out on the floor at the rate they were going.”
The chuckle that follows is also drenched in warmth, his voice a constant source of comfort at every turn for you. You know when you don’t say anything else, that Frankie is looking at you. He looks at you a lot, you’ve just gotten used to sensing it with him.
A good moment of silence passes before he says anything else. “It’s too cold for you to be out here alone, querida.”
Shrugging slightly, you continue to just watch the stillness of the water. “It’s not so bad after a while.” You want him to be inside if he’s cold, not outside babysitting his partner. “I have my cardigan if it gets too cold.”
With a hum, Frankie leans in closer to you, an arm gently finding its way around your body and resting against your arm furthest from him. A slight pull brings your side against his, a small reprieve from the coldness of the night, being up against his warm body. “You know there’s a lot less getting used to the cold, if you were back inside with us.”
Another shrug, still not looking back at him. “Maybe. I think I just needed a moment alone, is all.”
Fingers start gently moving up and down your arm as Frankie speaks, “Talk to me baby, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Your unsure if you even want to answer that. Sometimes whats going on in your head sounds stupid when you say it outloud, and tonight you just want Frankie to go back inside and enjoy himself without whats on your mind, also be on his.
“Nothing. I just needed a breather, is all. You know me, not a-”
“Not a party person.” Frankie answers for you, he knows you all too well. He knows you don’t like crowded parties and he also knows that being at a Santi’s house warming party wasn’t what was bothering you at the moment. He watches your face continue to not look directly at him, before turning slightly to watch your feet kick and swish through the illuminated pool water.
Thinking before he speaks again, Frankie makes a soft approach. “We can go home if you’re ready, I don’t want to keep you here if you want to leave.”
Except that was the opposite of what you wanted. That's what makes you look up at him. You were right, he has a flushed glow about him from the drinks, not as much as you would assume he’d have, this late into the evening, but enough that you can see he’s enjoying himself tonight. “No no no, I’ll be in in a bit, you go back to the guys I’ll join you in a second.”
Frankie also knows you well enough to know that’s not true, and so you reaffirm your statement with a playfulness not previously present. “Come on, Santi offered us a guest room, you shouldn’t waste a chance to not have to drive home at 3am.” You reach up to his hair as you speak, brushing it slightly out of his forehead with a gentle smile. Frankie though lets go of your loose hand in his lap, and reaches up to the one in his hair, grabbing it before you can pull it back to your own body.
He kisses the back of your hand before holding it against his chest, right over his heart, “Baby, tell me what’s wrong. You were so excited to come tonight before we left, what happened?”
His big brown eyes, ones that you could drown in are too much. Its so hard to lie to him when he looks at you with those big beautiful eyes, soft as can be looking right into yours. “I’m just tired.” He doesn’t believe you, you know it. “Really, it just caught up with me is all.”
Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens, but he doesn’t say a word he just looks at you. Waiting. Eventually you just lean in and kiss the material covering his shoulder, chin finding a seat resting on it as you look up at him. “Go back inside, my love. Enjoy yourself, they all want to spend time with you anyways. No need to waste your time out here with me.”
The soft gaze Frankie had towards you shifts then. His brow furrowing down and his eyes narrow as he takes in what you said. “Why would I be wasting my time?”
“You just, you know..You don’t spend as much time with those guys anymore, and with Santi finally home, you should spend time with them without me to worry about.”
When Frankie sighs, hand holding yours dropping it gently back down, he begins looking at the water now as you had been previously. You worry you said the wrong thing, but Frankie doesn’t let you ruminate on the thought long enough to let it turn to anxiety. “I was having a good time when you were beside me also having fun.”
He doesn’t let you respond, he just keeps going. “You’re who I want to spend my time with. I love them all don’t get me wrong, querida. But spending time with you is what makes me happy. Not too much of Benny’s crap taste in beer and telling lighthearded versions of army stories about the only few missions we even can share with people.”
Frankie reaches to your chin and gently raises it up and turned to look him in the eye once more. “I don’t need you giving me space. Not at a party that we came with together, not anytime.” He leans in, never once giving up his gentle hold on your chin, even moving slightly to be more of a hold on your jaw. Directing you towards his lips.
Frankie kisses you softly, so softly that you could have missed it if he didn’t keep you so close after. His lips brush against your own as he mutters your name. “You make me happy, okay? Don’t ever think I need space from you to be happy.”
You nod just enough to feel his lips brush against your own, top and bottom lips brushing past the other just a little more noticeably then when you speak up. “I..I just worry everyone’s going to see me as clingy, that you may think I’m being clingy if I’m always right beside you.”
Frankie laughs, a much fuller laugh then the chuckle he gave earlier. The hand on your jaw slides up, encompassing the side of your neck, him leaning to grant your nose a small kiss. “I’m the one who followed you out into the cold because I missed having you to cuddle up against, you know.”
Finally, you give a real giggle. Frankie does always act as the clingy one, but neither of you ever cared about that. Being close to you makes him happy and at ease, and it makes you happy. You suppose that’s just all either of you need.
You sigh and lean in, Frankie shifting to let your head rest on his shoulder, his hand now moving to hold the side of your head in a gentle hold, almost protectively. His feet begin to swish around in the water, as do yours following suit. The quiet splash of the water, and the faint sound of music and chatter muffled through the house walls, leave the two of you in a quiet but gentle embrace.
Sometimes you think you don’t deserve what Frankie offers you, his kindness, his generosity, his utter devotion to your happiness, but then you think to yourself, Frankie would argue to the death that you give him the same things. In fact he has absolutely said exactly those things before. Sometimes said while you hold each other in your arms after a night of passion, other times said by him, after you’ve just moved his coffee cup tipped to his mouth, when his hands are too preoccupied trying to feed his baby girl breakfast.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, and this time I want you to tell me the truth, querida.” Frankie says firmly. You can feel his head has turned to sit his mouth near the top of your head.
You look up in his eyes as his hand refuses to let go of it’s hold on the side of your head. “Do you want to go home, baby? Or do you want to go back inside and we can spend some more time with everyone before going upstairs to bed?”
You inhale deeply, before placing a hand on his chest, your thumb naturally rubbing over one of his shirt buttons without realizing it, as if you yearn for it to open, to let you feel the skin underneath. “I’m sure we won’t hear the end of it from Santi if we leave before he’s had a chance to do a drunken I love you guys so much speech.”
Another laugh comes out of Frankie, as he moves to stand up. His arms wrapping around you to gently lift you up along with him. The space right where you were sitting quickly soaks with pool water, as Frankie looks around, only to spot the small towel rack near the house wall. And quickly moving away only to grab one, an arm outstretched to you as he does so, as if to say 'don't move'.
Gently he has you hold onto his shoulder, so he can lift a foot of yours at a time to dry them, before helping you back into your shoes. Before he can dry his own feet, you lean in and sneak a kiss, grasping the towel out from under him.
You kneel down, intent on giving him the same gentle treatment, when the sound of the door sliding opens fills the air. Only this time the sound is far less gentle, and immediately followed by the yelling of Frankie’s oldest friend.
“Hey, hey, hey, if you’re gonna suck him off in my house at least do it in the fucking guest room I gave you!” Santi clearly has enough alcohol in his system to lack any boundaries about yelling that with an open door to a party, but clearly he’s sober enough to still find ways to tease Frankie at any opportunity.
Frankie himself turns his upper body towards Santi, and for a moment the two yell back and forth, bantering in Spanish too advanced and quick for you to make out what they are saying. Not that it matters though, with Santi waving a hand dismissively before shutting the door as he goes back inside.
You and Frankie look at the other laughing more easily then the entire time you’ve been outside. You dry his feet and help his shoes back on. Frankie simply grabs the towel and tosses it onto one of the chairs, before grabbing your cardigan and gesturing for you to turn and open your arms to let him put it on you.
As the both of you walk back to rejoin the party, you both move an arm to hold the other around the waist, leaning into the other, knocking the other body playfully.
Frankie debates going back to bring in the bowl of grapes you brought outside with you, but decides against it. Santi can clean it up himself in the morning if he’s gonna make a blowjob joke about you to the whole party.
Instead as he slides the glass door open, Frankie simply asks you, “Now querida, do you want another drink, or could I persuade you to have this dance?”
When you choose dance, you swear you can hear one of the Millers joking about neither of you having rhythm, but it falls on deaf ears.
All that matters if Frankie wants to dance with you, so that’s all you’re going to care about.
#Frankie Morales x reader#Fransisco Morales x reader#Frankie Morales x you#Fransisco Morales x you#Triple Frontier#Pedro Pascal imagine#Frankie Morales imagine
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