#yeah it's not on a Wednesday but it definitely counts as something that should be apart of the event | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

captain-joongz · 2 months

Text

Cream soda

Pairing: non-idol!Baekhyun x f!reader

Genre: annoyances to lovers, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: Baekhyun eats your pussy in the backseat of his car. That's pretty much it.

Warnings: reader is a little bratty at first, subby reader, dom-ish Baekhyun, dirty talk (i am so weak for this man, i didn't even have control over what came outta his mouth), some allusions to slight humiliation, overuse of petnames, fingering, oral (both f and m receiving), deepthroating, face fucking, cum eating

A/N: okay, this was a little unplanned. i was just watching exo cream soda moments and then suddenly thoughts of this man wouldn't leave me until i put this into words, so enjoy this impromptu piece as a little gift inbetween the scheduled content

„Ugh, I should have hitched a ride with Kai and Sehun,” I muttered under my breath as I side-eyed Baekhyun behind the wheel loudly belting out effortless high notes along to some pop song playing on the radio. The man in question giggled with his high voice and continued singing even louder, throwing amused looks my way with a mischievous smirk.

“Come on, princess, I know you love spending time with me,” he teased, lips shaping into a sly grin and eyes flitting between me and the road. I scoffed and folded my arms over my chest and looked out of the window sulkily.

“Yeah, when you’re quiet,” I murmured, which made Baekhyun laugh at me again and continue amusing himself with singing. I wouldn’t admit it to him out loud, lest I inflate his already humongous ego even more, but I did find myself awed with his voice every time he just casually started singing as if he was paid to do it. Outwardly I scowled, but I did like to listen to him when he did, which was always, as it seemed the man was incapable of shutting up.

Me and Baekhyun were kind of distaste at first sight. I’d gotten to know Kai in a dance class I took up in my free time and he occasionally came in to teach, and we made friends right away, the young dancer’s shy and genuine personality making it impossible to not love him. Before I knew it, I spent most of my Wednesday’s classes giggling away in a corner with him, trading stupid jokes and laughing at tom-foolery we came up with. I was kind of hopeless at dancing, but Kai made it so much fun I just loved coming back every week even though I knew I would definitely never learn to dance as he did. He was the one who taught me having fun and loving that I’m moving is more important than trying to be perfect, and I approached those classes with a free spirit and desire for a good time.

In time I started hanging out with Jongin even outside of those Wednesday’s evenings and gradually was introduced to most of his friend group, most of the time hanging out with him and Sehun, occasionally Chanyeol tagging along.

When I finally met all eight of them, it was at Jongin’s birthday party. I was sat next to Junmyeon, holding polite conversation with him about our respective careers, when Baekhyun arrived. Really, I could hear him long before the door even opened, but when it did, it was pure chaos. He waltzed in, dressed to the nines, screaming something and immediately running over to the youngsters and hugging them. For the whole evening, no matter where I was sitting or who I was talking to, there seemed to be a constant Baekhyun hum in the background. I could just always hear him and even though I barely talked to him, I knew everything he said to every single person in the room, because he was just incapable of speaking at a lower volume. And even worse, his energy and aura just drew my eyes and I found myself slipping and watching him interact with others, all wide smiles, silly antics and loud laughs. By the time I was walking home through the night city, the sound of his teasing voice and carefree giggles were ingrained into my brain, ringing like an echo even though I was long gone from his company.

So, the next time I was invited to another event with all of Jongin’s hyungs, I went in already a little annoyed with the man, which was made even worse by the fact that I got stuck sitting next to him. He would tease me, joke about everything I said and randomly butt into conversations I had with others. After hours of sitting next to him, I was at my Baekhyun limit.

Now, with time as we hung out more as a group, I’d gotten more used to him and even found myself laughing at his shenanigans, but my pride didn’t allow me to show it, especially since he started teasing me about being so uptight and never joking around with them. I would just find myself immediately ticked off anytime I could see his eyes fall onto me and that infuriating self-pleased smirk spread on his lips, brain already coming up with ways to embarrass me (I wasn’t actually embarrassed, and I had a feeling Baekhyun knew that otherwise he’d stop, but I wouldn’t say that out loud. I guess there’s just a lot of things I wouldn’t admit to him.). I enjoyed our little “rivalry” and learnt to balance Baekhyun’s wild energy with cold stares and deadpan delivery of sarcastic remarks. All in all, we actually worked quite well together.

That being said, I still did find him annoying. Especially when he rolled into events dressed in a way that accentuated every little attractive detail about him (and there were many) and threw his trademark smirks with hints and teases of tongue at anyone he pleased. I’d seen him in so many white or black tees that either perfectly showed off his biceps or teased his chiselled chest, with pretty necklaces and chains that drew attention to his neck and sharp jawline. More often than not I found myself going absolutely crazy with just one look at him, only to immediately want to smack him the moment he opened his mouth. Being around him was always just a whirlwind of confused lust and irritation.

Tonight was no exception.

Around new years there started to be talks of taking one extended weekend in the spring, renting out a nice loft somewhere in the woods and going there to drink and have fun. When the time came, we only had to decide who would ride with who. I originally was meant to go with Kai and Sehun, but they both wanted to take their girlfriends and in the end I couldn’t squish into the car with them, even though we tried. I attempted to ask the other boys, but mostly their cars were completely full with either people or supplies and couldn’t take on more baggage and an extra person. At this point Baekhyun stepped in and offered, because he had a car (I did not, I rode a bike most days and didn’t get a license for cars) and even though he originally planned to go with Chanyeol, it would be easier for him to go in his own and take me too. I reluctantly agreed. It was one thing to be spending time with him when there were other people present, but being shut in the car with him for hours, I had no idea how much I would be able to take.

I knew I was in for a wild ride (pun not intended) when he showed up dressed in washed out jeans with white streaks and splashes, white tee and a black lather jacket with snakeskin motive, his usual chains and necklaces contrasting with his smooth skin, teasing his neck and collarbone, and his white and black hair styled perfectly around his sharp beautiful face. He was leaning against his sleek black car with a smug grin and my knees were weak the moment I spotted him. So here I was, hours later, listening to him sing his heart out while looking like a fucking model and annoying the shit out of me.

It was already dark outside and I was getting antsy. We should have been getting closer but somehow our destination was still god knows how many kilometres away. I was hoping we could get there in time for dinner and a good night’s sleep, as tomorrow we a had lot planned, but several hours and two turn-backs later I started giving up hope.

“Are we even getting closer or are you just going to keep me in this car listening to your singing for the entire night?” I grumbled sharply and Baekhyun turned to me with a self-assured grin.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there soon,” he answered with a wink, “you’re pretty grumpy when you get hungry, I’d prefer to feed you before I get my head bitten off.” Just then his phone beeped and the maps app started flashing a warning that he was no longer getting any signal and couldn’t be tracked. I groaned loudly while Baekhyun just cursed at it and pulled over at the first available spot. We were currently somewhere in the mountains, on the tiny little winding roads with little space. According to the surroundings, we should be close to the cabin, but for the love of god we just couldn’t find our way there, and the reason was the stupid fucking phone Baekhyun was currently furiously tapping while cursing under his breath. I sighed again and watched him lose a battle to the piece of technology.

“I swear I’m usually a really responsible chauffeur, it’s just because my phone is broken,” the white haired man said with a little nervous laugh, “It seems to be having trouble getting signal and therefore the GPS doesn’t work.” I just looked at him wordlessly, tired and annoyed, and raised my eyebrow.

“Okay, Miss Mad-at-the-world, pull out your phone then, let’s use your GPS,” Baekhyun joked, but I could hear an undertone of annoyance in his voice, which made me instantly angry. I did pull my phone out and unlocked it and then tapped with my finger to the right top corner. It read 10 % battery. This time it was Baekhyun who groaned loudly and then hit his head lightly on the top of the steering wheel.

“Well, then this might be the end of our journey,” he admitted sheepishly, “at least until my phone starts cooperating again.”

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I growled, the anger finally getting the better of me. Baekhyun looked at me sharply, his squinted eyes showing displeasure at my tone.

“I’m not happy about it either, you think I wanna be stuck in a car?” he spit back, just as fired up, “I’m hungry and I wanna sit down on a couch and watch a movie.” I threw a glare at him and then turned around to stubbornly look out the window, continuing my grumbling.

“God, I knew that driving with you was going to be trouble, I should have just pushed my way into Sehun’s car,” I mumbled petulantly, admittedly acting just a tiny bit like a little kid, “This is all because of you and your stupid broken phone.”

At this, Baekhyun groaned, his head thrown back hitting the seat as his hands flexed into the steering wheel. I watched it unfold in the reflection of the window and suddenly found a spark of a different heat running through my veins. I shuddered and squeezed my thighs together, surprised by the force of the unexpected arousal. Baekhyun was none the wiser, as he launched into an angry spiel.

“God, why do you always get so angry with me?!” he asked incredulously, “Every time I think we’re finally getting better, you go and get annoyed with me for no fucking reason! Even Jongin came to me and asked if I did something to you and you just didn’t want to tell him! I had to very embarrassingly explain to him that I didn’t know either why you just seem to hate me and only me!” Shame flooded me at my behaviour and I realised that of course everyone else seemed to pick up at my weird attitude when it came to this man. I truly found myself regretful at how genuinely upset Baekhyun seemed to be about not knowing what he did to irk me, especially since it was mostly my problem with how he made me feel than him actually doing anything irksome, but at that moment my brain was so overridden by lust that I couldn’t even tell him anything, because it felt as if I was melting and I couldn’t muster up a single thought except for how much I wanted to fucking jump him, months of repressed longing coming to the surface after I’d had to spend hours watching him be effortlessly attractive while driving.

“So tell me, what did I ever do to you?” Baekhyun exclaimed and turned to look at me, only to promptly freeze. I was already looking at him, having abandoned the window the moment he started talking, and suddenly anxiousness filled me at his expression. I was breathing quite hard and hoped it wasn’t as loud as I feared, the blush spilling over my face down my neck.

Baekhyun must have seen something in my unguarded expression, because suddenly he was relaxing into his seat, his previous anger and frustration melting into a smug smirk. I nervously fiddled with the edge of my skirt, embarrassment flooding me.

“I see,” he purred, his eyes flitted over my figure and filled with desire, “I understand now.” Then he abruptly leaned over to my side, one of his hands falling onto my thigh and gently squeezing, the other leaning onto the top of my seat, fingers tangling softly into my hair. Before I could stop myself, I let out a quiet little whimper, thighs squeezing on instinct, trapping his hand halfway between my legs. It felt as if our faces were just millimetres apart, breath mingling and lips almost brushing each other. I was entranced by his eyes, darkened by lust, expression suddenly sharpened by the arousal that was palpable in the air.

Then he chuckled, a shit-eating grin slipping onto his face, and pulled away. I took a deep breath, suddenly realising I stopped when he descended into my personal space. Baekhyun gave me a cheeky wink and started unbuckling his seat belt. Before I even processed what was happening, he was stepping out of the car into the dark.

When I wasn’t moving, he bent down a little and looked at me through the open door, the grin still held fast on his face.

“What are you waiting for, princess? Get into the back seat.” His voice kept the teasing lilt, but there was a rough undertone to it and it did something to me, heat spreading rapidly through every pore of my being. He stepped back and the door slammed shut. Before I could think about it, I unbuckled as well and launched myself back through the little gap between the seats. When Baekhyun opened the door, I was already sitting there, waiting for him with wide eyes and mouth agape, hair and clothes messed up from the struggle and breathing heavily. He froze for a second and then started laughing as he crawled in onto the furnishing.

“How eager,” Baekhyun purred, his beautiful face twisting with a little twinge of aroused savageness, clearly getting off on my obedience and lust. I felt my pussy throb at his words and the tone of his voice, fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs in anticipation.

“Lay down on your back, princess,” Baekhyun instructed me and started taking off his leather jacket, his gaze following my every movement as I started shuffling to make enough space. I ended up having to spread my thighs to make enough space for the kneeling man, but still had to awkwardly lean my head in a sharp angle on the door behind me. This had my skirt falling back and basically revealing my black underwear to his hungry eyes.

I whimpered again, hands flexing in my lap, inadvertently bunching up the fabric of the skirt even more. At the sound Baekhyun’s gaze snapped to my face, a predatory smirk on his lips painting him in a completely different light than I’d been used to. For some reason I was expecting him to keep his light-hearted teasing persona even in bed, so I was wholly unprepared for this sudden dark lustful aura that seemed to consume him from the inside out.

Knowing he had my full attention, his hands suddenly grasped my ankles, startling a gasp out of me at the unexpected contact, and then his fingers lightly, teasingly made their way up to my knees. He tapped there a few times, watching their journey fascinated, before they continued on down the inside of my thighs. My legs twitched a little, a gush of wetness hitting my now completely soaked panties, while I waited with bated breath for his next move.

“You should have told me sooner, baby, I would have fucked the attitude out of you months ago,” Baekhyun’s voice rough with arousal suddenly rung out through the silent car and hit me to my core, cunt tightening around nothing at the lewdness of his words.

Before I could even reply, his hand pressed onto my wet clothed heat, fingers teasing the slit with slight pressure, and I moaned loudly, back arching off of the seats. My body was reacting to his presence and touch so viscerally it would almost scare me if I had the mental capacity to think about anything else than his fingers near my pussy.

I watched as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes trained on his hand playing with my panties, a whimper falling out of me when I imagined it between my legs. Baekhyun didn’t seem to be paying me much attention, rather focused on feeling out my pussy through my underwear. His other hand discreetly moved down his own body and squeezed his crotch, a shudder wracking through his body, eyes falling close with a pleased little sigh. I replied to the sight with a moan of my own, my mouth falling open as the last of my thoughts trickled out of my mind and were completely replaced by the vision that was Baekhyun pleasuring himself in front of me.

He peeked at me, watching me from under half-lidded eyes, the smirk on his face turning a little sharper. I was a little embarrassed by how easy it was for him to completely deconstruct me to a whimpering mess, and he barely even did anything, but clearly it was doing wonders for Baekhyun’s ego as he was exuding smugness while looking down on me. It made him look so powerful, like me and my pleasure were beneath him and I should be glad that he was even touching me in the first place, and that thought made me moan again, eyes rolling back into my head as I arched and pressed my pussy more onto his fingers.

He chuckled and obliged, pushing my panties to the side and running his fingers through my wet slit, thumb circling my clit while two of his fingers played with my entrance. I moaned and gasped, my whole body trembling with delicious tension as the waves of pleasure finally hit me full force.

“Please,” I gasped out, pussy pulsing with Baekhyun’s incessant teasing, “God, Baekhyun, please do something.” His fingers suddenly plunged in, but I was so wet and ready, they went in with no problem at all. A high pitched moan left my mouth and I gripped the edge of the seat. Everything seemed to spin along with the circles Baekhyun’s thumb was doing on my clit and I felt my sanity slowly slipping away, as the tingling feeling filled my whole body.

His fingers were just perfect, thick and a little bony, pretty and elegant, filling me in a way I was craving for months, and as he started unhurriedly pumping them in and out, I gasped and sighed and moaned with the mounting pleasure. For a moment I let myself be carried by the wave, eyes closed mouth opened just riding the burning feeling coiling in my belly, but then he stopped and pulled his hand away. Before I could stop myself I whined, long and drawn pitiful sound that made Baekhyun teasingly sneer at me with delight.

“Don’t cry, princess,” he whispered, voice rough and deeper than usual, “I’m just trying to figure out what you need.” With that he shifted and my attention was brought back to the bulge in his own pants, but he snapped his fingers, drawing my eyes back to his face. I felt myself blush at the open hunger and amusement in his gaze, knowing what I’d been looking at.

“Tell me, pretty girl,” Baekhyun continued, leaning a bit forward so he could look down on me with more of an impact. I whimpered and my thighs spasmed. His hand grabbed onto one and stabilised it with a soft caress. “Do you want my fingers? Hmm?” he asked with a faux curiosity on his handsome sharp face, “Or maybe something else?” His tongue poked out of his mouth again and unwittingly I gasped and nodded slightly before I could even think about it.

Baekhyun’s face crumpled into a smug smirk again, all sympathy draining out and getting replaced by pure hunger and lust. A bolt of desire pulsed through my entire body so strong I was surprised I didn’t physically jerk. Then he bent slightly over, kissing the skin of my knee. His eyes, ever so vigilant, watched hungrily for my reaction, and when I gasped slightly and tensed in his hold, it seemed to satisfy him enough. Slowly his lips made their way down the inside of my thigh, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses in their wake, until he reached my quivering centre, still covered by underwear.

He latched onto my clothed pussy, tongue pressing into the slit, putting pressure on my clit and licking around the edges of my panties. I tensed again, whole body shaking and anticipation and excitement flooding through my veins. But Baekhyun was suddenly in his teasing mood again and after a few moments of playing around with my clit with the tip of his tongue, he pulled away again. I didn’t even have time to whine though, as he immediately grabbed my underwear and swiftly pulled it off, leaving my pussy bared to him.

Instead of diving in, he chose to take the same path down the other thigh, but this time he was a lot less gentle, rushing down the expanse of the skin, leaving little bites and groaning lightly into the flesh, until he once again found himself buried in my pussy. The shock of his tongue licking a long stripe from my entrance up to my clit made me heave out a loud breath on a groan, body convulsing.

Now he wasted no time, suddenly seemingly as desperate to have me cumming as I was, his tongue wreaked havoc on me, sliding through my folds until it was lightly circling my clit before his lips latched onto it and sucked harshly. I was mindlessly laying there, twitching and shuddering, mouth open on a constant stream of quiet moans as he ate me out wildly.

He alternated between playing with my clit with his tongue and sucking on it with such force it left me breathless, before he slid lower and circled my entrance, moaning loudly into my cunt as his hands gripped my thighs tighter, leaving red indents of his nails. His head moved with the motion, bobbing excitedly as he licked me to my clit again before plunging his tongue in my hole without any warning.

It was such an onslaught of sensations I found myself barely hanging on, the fire in my lower belly consuming everything in its path and filling my veins with molten gold. I stopped caring about what kind of noises leave my mouth and gave myself over to the feeling of his tongue fucking into me in rough motions, nose bumping into my clit making me see stars. Blindly I reached over and grabbed his hair, tugging on it harshly and that had Baekhyun loudly groaning into my pussy, hands massaging my thighs as if he was holding on for dear life.

It was such a hot experience I could feel myself hurling closer to the edge, but I just needed an extra push. I used the grip on the hair as leverage and pulled Baekhyun away from my cunt. He looked at me, his fucked out expression bleeding into slight annoyance at getting interrupted. He looked a mess, the lower half of his face wet with my juices, lips shiny and red, tongue peeking out like he was a dog in heat. A blush was spread over his face, but spilled lower over his collarbones which were visible in the stretched out collar.

I pulled his head and pushed his mouth to my clit again. Without thinking, he immediately latched on and started sucking on it in between flicking it with his tongue, circling it and playing with it before giving it some rougher treatment. I moaned loudly, barely holding onto any thought, hand still holding him in place. When he wanted to move lower, his hair got pulled again and a debauched groan left his lips before he smirked at me.

“Suddenly turned all demanding, huh?” he said and teasingly licked through my folds as far as he could reach, “What is it baby, am I not doing enough?” I attempted to look at him, but I was already half gone, just desperately needing to come as soon as possible.

“Your fingers too, please,” I gasped out and with a single grin the man obliged immediately. Before I could process his lips on my cunt again, two fingers were plunged as deep as they could go into my heat. I nearly screamed out, but managed to turn it into a drawn out moan, legs falling open as far as I could push them. Baekhyun groaned in answer and then started harshly fucking me with them, curling them slightly to hit the sweet spot. Which he did, again and again and again. With a couple of flicks he had me losing my mind in the damn backseat of his car, on the cusp of cumming just from seeing his eyes drink up my own lust.

The car was suddenly filled with the sound of his muffled moaning, wet squelching of his fingers pumping furiously into my cunt and my own moans and sighs. I arched again, pushing my pussy into his face, into his fingers, so close to falling over that edge. I could barely think, barely hear, barely see, walls of my cunt spasming around him and milking his fingers of all their worth.

Baekhyun moaned again, hips moving on their own against one of my legs. I could feel his hard cock straining through the jeans and I loved knowing this was driving him just as wild, but I couldn’t hold that thought for long because suddenly he paired a couple of harsh pumps of his fingers with a hard flick and a long drawn-out sucking on my clit and I was launched into my climax, crashing into it so hard my hands flexed and had him groaning in pain and pleasure, hips stuttering against me.

The added vibration of his pleasured sounds carried me through it hard and I cried out, hips jerking against his face, the orgasm washing through my body in one huge tidal wave, white spots dancing behind my lids as I pressed them shut. The pleasure wrecked through me with a few quieter moans, leaving my thighs trembling. Then my whole body slumped down, the muscles relaxing and turning me into a rag doll.

I could hear Baekhyun breathing loudly, licking lightly at my spent pussy until I used my hand to pull him away again. He smirked at me, pulling my hand away from his white and black hair and sat back on his heels. His hands worked fast on his belt and zipper and I watched him utterly fascinated as he pulled his cock out, his hand frantically moving up and down the length as he chased his own pleasure.

I loved the sight, his cock was just as pretty as Baekhyun himself was, thick and curved with a tip flushed red, wet from pre-cum. I felt the fire burn low in my belly again, excitement making itself known through the tingling feeling spreading through my cunt. I moved faster than I was able to comprehend, suddenly kneeling in front of him with Baekhyun pushed against the door. I looked at him once with a mischievous expression and that was all the warning he got before I pulled his hand away and put his cock halfway down my throat.

He groaned loudly, hands immediately flying to my hair, tugging on it just as harshly as payback, and I moaned just as loudly in return, the sensation making him choke on a whimper. I was too eager, pushing myself to take him further into my mouth and in the process choking on his length, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him in my throat. Baekhyun released a few raggedy moans, hands flexing in my hair and hips stuttering slightly, before he seemed to regain back some composure and decided to take control again.

His hand grabbed onto my hair a little harsher, getting a more solid grip before he stopped me from aimlessly choking on him. I looked up, completely ruined by lust and needing him to cum just as hard as I did. He smirked at me, pleased at my obedience.

“Gonna fuck your mouth, yeah princess?” he whispered roughly, hands once again getting a good grip, but his eyes waited for my confirmation. I blinked at him and tried to nod, which was pretty hard given my position but he seemed to understand.

His hips jumped a little forward as he was preparing himself to move and I cherished the feeling of his cock sliding deeper into my mouth, touching the edge of my throat. I breathed loudly through my nose, getting used to the feeling before Baekhyun started thrusting.

When he did, he started slow, with measured shallow thrusts that had barely half of his cock sliding into my mouth, but once I moaned and pushed against his hands holding me still, he got the memo and started earnestly fucking into mouth, hips languidly moving in elegant swerves and each thrust punching a high moan out of him. He tried to keep his eyes on me, but soon was too overwhelmed by the sensation and threw his head back as his hips kept relentlessly jerking forward, until I was choking on him on every thrust.

I concentrated on my breathing, but the throbbing trembling between my legs was making me delirious, moaning around the intrusion in my mouth and welcoming it back with every plunge, driving Baekhyun absolutely insane.

The car moved with the motion of his hips, swinging wildly from left to right, and if anybody passed by us, they would definitely know what was currently taking place inside. I could hear a quiet creaking of metal, lost behind the cacophony of Baekhyun’s long high pitched moans. His thrusts had gotten slower but harder, pushing into me until my face was smushed into his lower abdomen, the cock pulsing in my throat. I tried to swallow around it and a pitiful groan was punched out of Baekhyun’s mouth. I could feel he wouldn’t last much longer, his fingers digging into my hair tightly, hips losing rhythm and chasing after an orgasm, moans getting higher and higher.

I grabbed onto his thighs and my nails digging into the fabric of the jeans were no doubt felt through to his skin. His hands started guiding my head along his thrusts, pushing me into him on ever slide in. Drool dribbled out of my mouth, all over my chin and onto him, but he didn’t seem to mind.

With a few deep thrusts I could hear his stuttering breaths, the tightening of his balls before he stilled, cock pushed as deep as it could go pumping hot salty liquid down my throat. Baekhyun let out one last long moan, cumming in few hot squirts as his hips trembled and jerked lightly. I struggled to swallow around his length, stimulating the already sensitive head, punching out some whimpers out of him as his cum slipped out my lips and dribbled down my chin. My own cunt spasmed and throbbed with arousal, and I could feel the wetness sliding down my thighs, making me groan slightly.

He finally pulled out and his head lolled back to look at me. I barely had the presence of mind to look at him, eyes teary and face a mess of drool and cum. Something passed over his eyes and then he was suddenly pushing me down onto the seat, descending over me and kissing me harshly. I gasped and he immediately stuck his tongue into my mouth, no doubt tasting his release, but that didn’t seem to bother him, especially since he kissed me like a starved man.

I was so ready to cum again, too turned on from having him fuck my mouth to even pretend I didn’t need him again and he seemed to understand. With one hand he pulled up my shirt, lips migrating down my neck to mouth at my tits, while the other pressed between our bodies and without much preamble he plunged two fingers inside my hole again.

I whimpered, back arching and pushing my tits into his mouth, while my hips gyrated against his fingers attempting to ride them to completion. The madness at that point truly hit the boiling point as I didn’t need much at all and after a few rough well aimed thrusts combined with slight scraping of his teeth over my nipple I was cumming once again, this time my whole body spasmed and the pleasure was enough to tear a desperate scream out of my throat as I clamped down on his fingers, the ecstasy tearing through me with even more force than the first time. Baekhyun groaned a few times too, attempting to let me ride out the climax with some gentler strokes, before we both slumped down, the pleasant boneless feeling after a good orgasm getting us both.

Sound of harsh breathing was the only sound in the car as we both tried to get it back under control, our bodies cooling down. I was suddenly aware just how much cold wet release was all over my cunt and thighs, as well as a slight tick in my jaw was making itself known. Baekhyun pushed himself back on his knees and tucked himself back into his pants, tee haphazardly hanging off of him.

He gave me a winning smile with a touch of that smugness from before and then launched into motion. I rolled my eyes at him fondly, but let him do the aftercare, as I was still too drained to even move. Just as he was leaning over to the front seat trying to grab the packet of handkerchiefs to wipe me down, his phone suddenly started blaring through the silence of the car, scaring the both of us.

Baekhyun grabbed it and looked at it, then looked at me and said cheekily: “It seems that the signal is working again.” I just stuck my tongue out at him, to which he in turn started gesturing lewdly with his until I kicked him with a barely held back laugh.

The phone was still blaring, so he clicked the accept button and suddenly Jongin’s worried rambling was filling the silence of the car.

“Jesus christ, hyung!” he exclaimed, “We were so fucking scared! You were supposed to be here hours ago and none of us could reach either of you and we had no idea where you were!”

“Sorry, bear,” Baekhyun replied, though he didn’t sound nor looked very sorry, grinning at me while leisurely wiping my centre. I flushed with embarrassment, suddenly feeling shy now that Jongin was on the call. “My phone’s broken and Y/N’s died a while ago. We seem to be quite lost.”

“Are you anywhere close? I might be able to come and get you,” came Kai’s sweet reply, his voice full of relief now that we established we were alive and well. “I’m not sure, I think so,” Baekhyun told him and looked out the window. It was pointless, it was already dark outside and barely anything could be seen beyond the few dingy streetlights.

“My GPS kept fucking up, so we stopped by the side of the road for a little bit to see if it jumps back on, but I think we’re in the vicinity,” the man carried on explaining and I started searching for my discarded panties. When I bent over to fish them from underneath the driver’s seat, a hand made its way to my ass and caressed it gently. I flushed and ducked further to avoid looking at the smug bastard.

There was silence on the line, stretching until I started nervously twitching and turned back to sit next to Baekhyun. He watched me with a teasing glint to his eye and then winked.

“Uh-huh,” drawled out Jongin finally as an answer. I could hear in his voice he was suspicious and really, who could blame him. We disappeared, didn’t pick up phone calls and then Baekhyun tells him totally laid-back “oh yeah, phone’s broken and we’re somewhere on the side of the road” as if he was talking about what he was doing yesterday. I blushed again and slapped his shoulder lightly, earning a quiet amused chuckle.

“Okay hyung, stay there and send me your location while your phone works,” Jongin said, deadpan and clearly done with his shit, “and for fuck’s sake, be fully clothed when I get there.”

Baekhyun started loudly cackling while I slapped his shoulder some more in embarrassment. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me flush to his chest, giggling at me playfully.

“Got it! Thank you, Jonginnie~”

The man sighed and grumbled something about Baekhyun being a menace and then hung up. I immediately groaned and pushed my face into the white-haired man’s shoulder.

“They’ll never shut up about this,” I mumbled and melted into the feeling of Baekhyun’s fingers gently carding through my hair. He chuckled lightly, reverting back to his happy persona.

“Just be really shameless, it will be less fun for them to tease you,” he laughed, “Walk in like ‘yeah I sucked his dick, what of it?’” He made some crude gestures with his free hand and then laughed when I slapped it again.

“Let’s get back to the front seats before Kai gets here, or he’ll be traumatised,” I told him and pulled myself back through the gap. When I turned back, Baekhyun was giving me a hungry stare again and I shuddered, my body valiantly trying to get aroused again.

“You forgot something,” he whispered and suddenly my black panties were hanging in the space between our faces, tangled around his beautiful fingers. I flushed, realising I must have flashed him when I clambered back to the passenger seat, but I could already feel the beginnings of a fresh wet heat between my legs.

I gave Baekhyun a look, which he seemed to understand judging by the annoyingly hot self-assured smirk making its way back onto his face.

“How long do you think we have before Kai gets here?”

I guess we were going to find out.

hope you enjoyed yourself <3

#kpop fic #kpop smut #kpop fluff #exo fic #exo fluff #exo smut #exo x reader #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun x reader

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jimblejamblewritings · 3 months

Text

the fake date plot | part 6.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

James came down with the rest of the marauders to find you had already fixed a big plate of breakfast for him. He gave you a peck on the cheek as he took off his quidditch jumper before sitting down.

“Thanks, bug.”

“Why do you call me that?” you asked, taking a bite of your English muffin.

“Do you not like it? I can call you something else.”

“No, I like it. I was just wondering why.”

James shrugged. “Never thought about it… You’re cute and little, some bugs are cute and little. Yep, makes sense.”

“I’m not little.”

“You’re littler than me. It counts.”

“You’re freakishly tall.”

“Remus is freakishly tall.”

“So are you.” You popped a fried potato chunk in your mouth.

“Just accept it, bug.”

You went back to your breakfast, deciding his answer and little argument was satisfactory enough for you. James nudged you with his shoulder, beginning a mini battle between the two of you until he finally conceded. It was still a learning process for the two of you, trying to figure out how to play up your fake dating. Your friends were definitely suspicious and while Lily seemed to move a bit closer, Xeno didn’t even glance your way.

You were worried that maybe you and James were switching places in regards to the objects of your affection. You felt something squeeze your thigh ever so slightly and looked over to see James was seemingly in conversation with Peter. He must’ve caught you staring too long at the Ravenclaw table and a certain someone.

Shaking your head, you went back to eating. That’s right. You were with James and you two needed to be sickeningly in love. Besides, Lily was coming around so maybe Xeno was just distracted right now. You opened up your journal to jot down a few notes. A looming presence hung over your right shoulder.

“Yes, Jamie?” you asked without looking up.

“I’m just looking at your calendar.” He pointed to a blank Wednesday. “Quill in a study date, right when classes end.”

“Study? James Potter, when have you ever studied anything that wasn’t Charms and Defense?”

“Well, do you really need to study wand lore or broom craft? And does memorizing a whole script count as studying?”

“It does when you’re in a drama club. And if I can’t become an actress then I need to feed myself so I’m learning to make quidditch equipment. You idiots break at least two brooms every week each, not to mention the other stuff. I’ll never have to worry about money.”

“You’re learning about quidditch?”

You finally looked up, recognizing the shift in James’ tone from when you two were acting for your friends versus being genuine. Giving your fake boyfriend a smile, you stole some food off his plate.

“It’s not because you like it. It’s because you, especially, are rich and will buy my brooms and convince all your teammates to buy my brooms.”

He laughed so loud it made students at the other houses’ tables, including Xeno, look over. James squished your cheeks and gave you a peck.

“I should have known you were only with me for my money. Well, I hate to inform you, love, I’ve just squandered the family fortune on flying carpets.”

You rolled your eyes. “How do you have a cute comeback for everything?”

“You think it’s cute?”

You stood up from the table. “You are the cutest, Jamie. The most adorable scrumdiddlyumptious squishy-wishy super-duper boyfriend in the whole world.”

“I sense I’m being teased.”

“I would never tease you, Jamie bo-baimey taimey waimey rai—”

“Ha ha, very funny. Now you deserve the punishment jumper.”

“Punishment jumper? What am I, five years old?” Your words were muffled by a red jumper covering your face before your head popped out the other side. You looked down. “You just wanted me to wear your jumper.”

James blushed and you wanted to laugh. Natural blush wasn’t easy with fake dating but the two of you figured out a relatively uncomfortable trick if the two of you weren’t on the same page. You were allowed to picture Xeno whenever you wanted and James was allowed to picture Lily. He was totally imagining her in his jumper— it probably helped that you and Lily were the same height and body type so the jumper fit exactly like it would on her.

Your fake boyfriend scratched the back of his head. “Some of the team was talking about how they like seeing their partner in their jumpers and I wanted to know what that was like.”

“And?”

“Don’t know yet, it just looks like I dropped it on you.”

“That’s cause you did drop it on me. Wait, let me fix it.”

You pulled out the collar and untucked your shirt so the tails were sticking out. The sweater almost covered your skirt entirely since it was already oversized on James that you weren’t sure if you’d get a violation or not but you didn’t try to adjust it. You gave a little twirl.

“Tada.”

“You look great.”

Leaning over James, who covered your skirt with his hands to make sure nothing showed, you collected your stuff. “I’ll see you later, okay? Marls, are you coming with me to Herbology or still eating?”

Marlene tried to recover from getting caught staring, mouth open, at you and James. She shook her head no and you made your way out of the Great Hall to head to Herbology. James left only five minutes after you in order to give your friends space to gossip in peace.

The two of you were counting on Sirius and Mary to get louder by the minute until it garnered everyone’s attention. You were sure it worked when Alice came into the greenhouse practically squealing at you. You and James were the hottest topic in school. All you could do was roll your eyes and keep taking notes as Alice started planning your entire future together. You turned to look at your friend. James wouldn’t hate you for telling one person. You both had planned to tell your closest friends when the time was right and you couldn’t take keeping a secret anymore.

“Hey, Alice. Me and Jam—”

The door to the greenhouse swung open but it was Professor Sprout that came in. It was James standing in the threshold.

“Your birthday is this weekend,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger.

“Yes, James.”

“Bug, you didn’t say what you wanted for your birthday.”

“I’m okay.”

“What?” His eyebrows crinkled together. “You don’t want anything?”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Birthdays are a completely big deal.”

“Well… I just don’t want anybody spending too much on me this year. My parents and I are saving up for university… if there is a university.”

It was an unspoken thing that no student might make it to university when the war was ramping up. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters got bigger, a draft was likely to happen. And unlike muggles, men and women were drafted in the wizarding world since all the fighting was done with magic and didn’t require any strength outside of mental. James shook his head.

“That’s an even better reason to give you something. It won’t be large, I promise.”

“Small things can still be very expensive.”

“Honestly, I’ve never looked at a price tag in my life.”

You sighed. “You and Sirius live totally different lives from the rest of us, I wish I had rich parents… Okay, I concede. If it isn’t big then it can be whatever you want.”

“Good. I have to go now before Slughorn loses his mind that I’m not there or worse pairs me up with Snape as a punishment.”

(part 7...)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub @amandachrystinallc @lupinsbookshelf @harrysgoldenwatermelon @loving-and-dreaming @that-simp-sin @bubybubsters @peachesgaeass @jellyfishlioncrab @cenkisabibl

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #marauders fic #marauders imagines #marauders fluff #marauders era #harry potter fic

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

Late Night Rides

Moodboard made by me

Pairing || Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Having a secret affair with Bucky and needing to meet up secretly in his car for a chat and sex so you won’t get caught.

Text messages; Bucky || Reader

Word Count || 3987

Contents & Warnings || Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, major age-gap (reader is early 20’s, Bucky is early/mid 40’s) infidelity, pet names (babe, baby, doll), unprotected vaginal sex, lots of kissing and touches, teasing, grinding, spanking, praise kink, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || I’m so happy with this fic! I really put down extra love and care into this one and I’m so excited for people to read it <3 but also nervous

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

It’s Wednesday night, and you've been cooped up all afternoon inside your room to do some last-minute studying for an important exam tomorrow. You’re lying on your stomach on the bed with your comfy clothes on. Legs crossed in the air as you review some final notes to ensure you are 100% prepared for tomorrow.

You’ve created a pleasant atmosphere for studying—calming music is playing through your AirPods, and the healthy snacks and drinks you’ve made for yourself keep your brain fed so you can cram all the knowledge into your memory with no problem.

A ping of your phone, signalling a text, pulls you out of the concentration, making you groan in annoyance. But once you see who the message is from, you can't help but feel all giddy inside like a schoolgirl with a major crush.

It’s from Bucky, your hot next-door neighbour and the man you’ve been hooking up with behind everyone's back for a few months. It’s been a while now since you’ve talked or texted.

You’ve both been busy with your lives the past two weeks; you with school and him with his wonderful two kids and his bitter wife, so you haven’t been able to see each other in private.

The only contacts you’ve had were some quick hello’s and secret glances when you bump into him in the neighbourhood. Every time you saw him, you yearned for his delightful touch and attention—his soft lips on yours and his intoxicating hands worshipping your skin as he whispered how good you are for him. You shudder at the thought as your stomach fills with tingling butterflies.

For a few days now, you’d hoped you would meet up again soon, and it seemed like tonight might be it, although you should be studying…

Hey! You still up?

Hi! Yeah looking over some final notes for my exam tomorrow 🤓

Right yeah I forgot it's on Thursday. Good luck baby ❤️ Text me when you finish tomorrow

I will 😚 But was there something you wanted due to the late-night text?

Just wanted to see if you were up for a drive. Everyone’s asleep and I could use the company. But I don’t want to disturb you. Do some more studying baby. Get a good night's sleep! I know you will ace this exam tomorrow because you’re such a smart girl ❤️

You felt your stomach fluttering as he called you a smart girl. He was right. You would absolutely smash the exam tomorrow because you’ve been studying hard and you knew the topic like the back of your hand.

You needed a break; you deserved it. So you decided to take up his offer and have some much-needed fun with him (which would definitely lead to sex.)

I want to see you. I’ve studied enough now. Give me a sec. I just need to get dressed and I’ll be out ☺️

Really!? Ok I’ll wait at the usual spot

You put on some more appropriate and easily discardable clothes for your and Bucky’s “date”, if you could call it that. A short skirt, a cute top, and a cardigan to keep you warm on a chilly night.

Very quietly, you tip-toed downstairs and out the door, making sure not to wake your parents, who were sound asleep.

Although it's late and dark, you walk quickly past the neighbouring houses. Paranoia overwhelms you that someone may see and recognise you, despite all the houses being pitch black and not a single soul walking the streets.

You get into Bucky’s car that’s waiting for you a few houses down. You don’t even get to say hello before he’s cradling your face and pressing his lips firmly to yours—eagerly moving them against yours to familiarise himself with them again after the long absence. You melt into him and place your hands on top of his as you make out.

After a few moments, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and making you inhale a shaky breath. He smirks as he brushes his nose with yours while muttering a low “hi.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you also greet him with a trembling “hey”. Your mind still foggy from the kissing, and butterflies flutter in your stomach at being in his presence.

“I missed you so much, gorgeous.”

“I-I missed you too.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, wanting to continue where you left off and then some. He put his hands on your waist, wanting to pull you on top of him so you could progress this even further, but you stopped him before he could. It’s not that you didn't want to be pressed up against him; you just didn’t feel so comfortable going at it right in your neighbourhood.

“B-Bucky.” You placed your hands on his chest and lightly pushed him away. “I-I don’t feel comfortable doing this here. Can we drive somewhere a little more private, please?” You pouted.

If Bucky could choose, he would have you right here and now. Loving the rush of potentially getting caught by one of your neighbours that decided to go for an evening stroll, but he knew you weren’t comfortable with it, so he respected your boundaries.

“Of course, we can, baby.” He caressed your cheek while giving you a heartwarming smile, making his eyes crinkle. “I never want to do something you’re uncomfortable with.” “Thanks, babe.” He gave you a sweet peck before he put the car in drive, and off you were.

He turned up the radio a bit to have some pleasant background music and put the heating on to warm you up.

You removed your cardigan, which made him side-eye you and lick his lips as you revealed more of your tempting skin. He gripped the steering wheel hard to try and resist the urge to stop on the road and take your hard. He wanted to have you somewhere alone and secure before he started exploring you because there was no way to stop him when he began.

You glanced over at him as well. He was clad in jeans and a thin sweater, so you couldn’t see much of him. But you knew he was packing behind those pants and that his torso looked like a Greek statue. It made you ache between your legs and mouth water that you would soon have all the time to explore his naked body.

After a while of comfortable and sexually charged silence, you and he effortlessly slipped into a conversation as you talked about your weeks apart—catching up with each other’s lives. There wasn’t much to talk about from your side. It mostly revolved around school and studying for the exam.

Bucky had loads to talk about, especially with his two kids. He beamed with love and happiness as he spoke of them. Laughing and getting so enthusiastic as he shared the latest. It was so heartwarming to see and hear.

You missed them as well. You’d gotten a good connection with them the first time you ever went to babysit. That’s how you met Bucky, and you had fallen for him instantly.

Talking about his kids naturally moved the conversation over to his wife. That’s when the atmosphere switched to something more unpleasant and tense. You didn’t say much while he talked about her, just listening to him complain and letting him vent about how much he essentially hated her, although he never said it straight out.

It wasn’t really your place to say anything about her, although you had lots of input. You wanted to tell him to get a divorce because the constant arguing between them wasn’t leading to anything, and it was bound to be taken out on the kids negatively. You wanted to tell him that he deserved to be happy. If not with you, then with someone else who would give him the love and intimacy he deserved. You just wanted what’s best for him and his children.

After the rant and mention about his wife, it got a little awkward in the car. You knew what you were doing was essentially wrong even if their marriage was on the brink of collapsing and probably not savable, but still, you felt a little guilty about being with a married man. A homewrecker was something you never wanted to be, although his wife was doing that just fine herself.

“You know, the kids miss you. They're always asking when you’ll come over again to play.” Bucky said while looking over at you with a smile, trying to break the awkward tension he created between you two.

Your heart filled with warmth when he told you that they’d been asking for you. You missed them so incredibly much as well, and you couldn’t wait to see them again soon.

“How about this weekend? After my exam, I’ll have loads of free time to hang out with them.”

He placed his palm on your naked thigh, giving a squeeze, as he beamed with happiness once again. “They would love that, and so would I.” He looked over and smiled, which made you feel all fuzzy inside.

For the remaining few minutes of the car ride, until you got to your destination, you sat in now comfortable silence with each other.

Once you arrived at a more secluded area, Bucky turned off the car. You were all alone now. No one would be able to disturb the two of you.

You thought now, when you were for yourselves, he would toss himself over you like he usually did, but he retracted further from you as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking deep in thought as he tried to find the right words to tell you something.

“I’m sorry about the whole, you know….” He gestured with his hands, hoping you would understand his meaning without mentioning who or what he was talking about.

“Bucky, it’s okay. You can always talk to me about anything that’s bothering you, no matter what it is. I’m always here to listen.”

He let out a puff of relief that he hadn’t screwed up anything with you. “Thank you.” He tilted his head as he looked at you, a smile decorating his beautiful face. “That means a lot.”

“I just want you to be happy.” You took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. It fit so perfectly in yours, like two puzzle pieces meant to be. You never wanted to let go. “I really care about you, Bucky.”

“I care about you also, so much.”

The words you said to each other felt like they held an entirely different meaning. A synonym for those three words that would absolutely change everything if you said it. But neither you nor Bucky were ready to take that next step yet, so for now, “I care” was enough to convey your feelings for one another.

You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few moments. An entirely new atmosphere was brewing around you—one of intimacy, love and neediness.

Bucky’s eyes were fixated on your lips before they flickered to your eyes and then back down again. Your heart beat fast in your chest, and your core fluttered as you leaned into one another. When your lips came in touch, there was no denying the sparks that exploded between you two. You and he were perfect for each other; there was no denying your intense chemistry together.

You kissed slowly and sweetly at first—expressing your love and care for one another through it. The kiss gradually built momentum when his hands grabbed your waist, digging his fingers into your skin, and yours snaked in the hairs at the back of his neck. Your lips now eagerly moved against each other as you were both impatient to feel one another to the fullest.

Bucky nips your bottom lip and growls against you as he tugs you towards him, conveying that he wants you on top. With a bit of awkward shuffling, resulting in a few “ops” and “sorry’s” and lots of giggling, you managed to find your place on top of him, resting your legs on each side. Due to the car being so crammed, your head hits the roof when you go to adjust yourself in his lap.

“OW!” You cry as you rub the top of your head while wincing in pain, which sends Bucky into a slight panic that you’d hurt yourself pretty bad.

“Oh my God, baby, are you okay?” He questioned nervously as he cradled your head while concern was written all over his face. He didn’t like seeing you in pain.

“Y-yeah.” You grit your teeth and suck in air as he touches the tender spot.

“You sure?” Bucky can’t help but chuckle a little, which you do as well.

“I’m sure. All is good now. I-I’m sorry, Bucky. That wasn’t very sexy of me.” You look down in shame, fiddling with your fingers, thinking you ruined the moment between you two with how clumsy you were.

“Hey.” He lifts your chin with two fingers, making you look at him. “You’re always so fucking sexy, even when you smack your head on the roof of my car.” He chuckles again. “You still want to keep going?” He runs his hands up and down your naked thighs, which makes you sink further into him, craving his closeness and intoxicating touch.

“I do.” You mumble against him as a smirk curves on your lips. You cup his cheeks, feeling his scruffy beard underneath your palms, and press your lips firmly to his, continuing where you left off a few moments ago. His tongue caresses yours as his hands reach under your skirt, palming your ass, kneading and squeezing the plump flesh in his grasp. With his hands holding a tight grip on your ass, he aids you in grinding on his covered bulge; your clothed core glides against the rough material, making you moan into his mouth.

With a slight change of angle, your clit brushes against his hardening cock, making you gasp while Bucky leaves open-mouth kisses underneath your jaw. His beard tickles and makes your skin feel tingly when he kisses down your neck.

“Hmm… that’s the spot, isn't it?”

“Y-yes.”

“Keep going, baby.” He mumbled against your collarbone while travelling his hands upwards, leaving you to take control of your hips as he danced his fingers on your waist. “Grind yourself on me, my pretty doll.”

You keep moving on him as he kisses and touches your flesh. Bubbling pleasure builds fast in the pit of your stomach, and you want to chase it, but you need his cock buried deep within you much more.

You stop and call his name, which makes him look up at you with a puzzling expression on his face.

“Why’d you stop?”

“I-I need you so bad.” You grab him through the jeans, making him groan as you palm and caress his cock through his pants. “I want your cock in me so bad.” You purr in his ear, grazing your lips on the shell of it, making him shiver against you while a growl vibrates in his throat.

Becoming impatient as well, he helps you with discarding your top, followed by swiftly unclasping your bra and letting it fall down your arms. His eyes widen when your breasts are exposed, muttering a curse as he takes in their beautiful curves. He’s quick to kiss down the centre, taking advantage of the newly bare skin. You moan and toss your head back as he licks each nipple and tugs at them, making you hiss at the dull pain and grip his dick firmly.

“I love how easy it is to get you so riled up, gorgeous.” His words tickled your skin as he kissed each breast before he got to work on removing this jumper while you undid his pants.

Once he was bare in front of your eyes, you took a minute to study his physique. Your eyes follow your finger as you trace every contour and dip of his chest and abs while he continues trailing his hands on your skin. You part your lips as your eyes fall on his cock, quickly taking him in your hand, making him groan. A glob of your spit falls on his tip, saliva coating his length as you stroke him in teasing motions.

Your lips find his again as he reaches under you and presses his fingers to your covered core, touching you through the soaked material. Yours and his groans and moans muffled into the kiss as you feel and tease each other.

He pulls your panties to the side and yanks your pelvis closer to him, desperate to feel you wrapped around him.

Once you’ve felt like you both had gotten enough of the teasing, you glide his tip through your messy and sticky folds before lining him up with your entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, you descend onto him, your walls hugging his length to perfection, making you and he sigh in satisfaction at finally being connected after so long.

Bucky was starting to become impatient, so he slammed you down the last few inches until you sat on him entirely, making you cry out at the force. He takes hold of your jaw tightly. “That’s it, baby. Right where you fucking belong on my cock and nowhere else.” He grunted against your lips as shivers ran down your spine at his assertion. “This is my little pussy, isn't it?” You nod yes as your eyes become heavy and your mind gets lightheaded with his whole cock sheathed inside you. “Be a good girl and ride me.”

Slowly, you start to rock back and forth on his cock, getting used to having him nestled deep within your walls. He grabs your ass in his hands, helping you move on him as he looks over every inch of your body, licking his lips at having you in such an intimate and personal way, looking so fucking gorgeous and sexy.

You wrap your arms around his neck for leverage as you move up and down on him in quick motions as sounds of pleasure escape your parted lips. “You feel so good inside me, baby.” You whimper against him as your lips brush. His tongue pokes out to swipe on your bottom one.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He gives your ass a harsh spank, making you yelp and jerk upwards till only his tip is inside you before he slams you right back down, your ass slapping his thighs. Continuing this movement rapidly till the only sound filling the car is skin on skin.

Due to your activities, it was starting to become hot and steamy in the car—the windows fogged up. Your glistening bodies moved effortlessly against each other due to the slickness.

All the sensations and stimulations of feeling every ridge of his cock and his tip brushing against your sweet spot, along with his fingers dancing and digging into your sensitive skin, has your face contour in pure pleasure as moans, groans, and whimpers from you both echo in the car.

After a short while, it was starting to become a bit difficult to move on him with the limited space, so Bucky reclined his seat backwards until he almost laid down flat, making it easier for you to ride him.

Placing your hands on his chest, you roll your hips on him, finding the perfect rhythm as your breasts dance along. Bucky trailed his hands all over your body, kneading and caressing your flesh, as his hungry, dark eyes took in your mesmerising form, licking his lips and muttering a curse. “Just like that, baby. God, you look amazing.” You were so appealing as you rode him, so sinful as you claimed his cock and soul for yourself.

His cock twitched against your fluttering walls as he produced a throaty groan when you ran your hands over your naked body. From your hips, up your waist, until they rest on your breasts, palming them in your grasp as you close your eyes and toss your head back. Your face presented pure pleasure as you got deeply lost in the sensations. “God, you’re so fucking sexy it’s unbelievable. That’s it, baby. Such a pretty girl for me.” The sound of his deep and husky voice praising you goes straight to your tingling clit, which Bucky finds a second later and circles with his thumb, making you convulse on top at the overstimulation.

All the sensations are so deliciously overwhelming that you find it hard to keep upright as your mind becomes foggy and your body becomes weak. You fall onto him and let him take charge.

He braces himself, holding your ass firmly in his grasp before he starts thrusting upwards in long and satisfying strokes, till his tip is inside and then forcing himself balls deep, having your cry against his lips as he keeps praising what a good girl you are for taking him all. Your orgasm builds rapidly, ready to snap and wreck you at any moment.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Bucky.” You bury your face in his neck, crying against him as you shut your eyes hard. With a few more quick thrusts, the coil in the pit of your stomach ruptures, sending you into a mind-blowing frenzy of nothing but overwhelming pleasure. You embrace the euphoric orgasm as it impacts every single nerve in your body, making you convulse against him as your pretty sounds runs free.

Bucky mumbles a low curse as his cock twitches, and his hips jerk unevenly. He wraps his strong arms around your torso as he holds you close. Not a second later, he spills his cum deep inside you, decorating your fluttering walls as he grunts and moans deeply.

You’ve never felt more satisfied and complete as he fills you up to the hilt with his cock and seed. While Bucky couldn’t imagine anything more remarkable than your tight and warm walls hugging his length.

Once he’s given a few more calm thrusts, ensuring you’ve both gotten everything out from your orgasm and you’re both fucked out and satisfied, he stills, nestling inside you where he belongs. You exhale a shaky breath as he cradles your face and makes you rest your forehead on his, your noses brushing. “You’re so good to me, baby.” He mumbles as he runs his hands up and down your clammy back, making you shiver at his electrifying touch.

His crystal blue eyes gazing into yours, displaying nothing but adoration for you, made you almost utter those three words you’ve been holding in. You even parted your mouth to say it, lips quivering, but instead, you crashed into him to stop yourself. You poured the love into the kiss instead, hoping he would understand as you moved your lips against his passionately. “I know, baby.” He whispered against you, knowing exactly what you were trying to say.

He caressed your cheek as he furrowed his eyebrows, looking intensely at you.

“You said earlier that you wanted me to be happy.” You nod your head yes. “Well, I am happy. When I’m here with you, I’ve never been happier.”

He smiled from ear to ear, eyes crinkling. It made you fall for him all over again. Your face beamed with happiness upon hearing that, making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “I’m happy too, Bucky.”

He gives you a final sweet peck before you nuzzle your face in his warm and comforting chest, sighing in delightfulness as he strokes your arm and back lovingly. You stayed for a while longer, holding and cuddling each other, appreciating the last moment of your private and intimate alone time before you had to return to your everyday lives where you had to keep your relationship secret.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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wayward-dreamer · 5 months

Text

Slow Night

Square/s Filled: FREE @anyfandomgoesbingo | Pet names @anyfandomkinkbingo

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2,262

Summary: A slow night at Family Video has Steve and Y/N face the reality of how they feel about each other.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: My first Steve fic which wouldn't have been my first if it hadn't taken me so long to write lol. Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks to my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for looking over this for me! <3

Lashings of rain beat down on the cars in the parking lot, some of the downpour hitting the windows of the building as it ran off the thin shelter above the store. Wednesday was already a slow night for Family Video, and the rain was an added factor on that particular night. Y/N leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed as she grimaced at the weather outside, hoping that the rain would cease, and the last two hours of her shift would take a turn for the better. Another customer or two and they would make a good enough profit for the day, despite it being their least busy.

With a glance behind her, she took a deep breath as she watched her co-worker for the evening push the cart of VHS tapes down the aisle, stacking them back on the shelves. Steve Harrington. Yet another reason she wanted a few more customers to come in, so she didn’t have to be completely alone with him. It wasn’t because she didn’t like him, but because she did. A little too much maybe.

He had joined the team along with Robin about 5 months ago, and while Keith hadn’t been thrilled about Steve as a new addition, she definitely was. Or at least she had been at the time. The crush settled in pretty quickly, and she had hoped that he would notice, but he hadn’t. So, she did what she did best, pushed down her feelings and ignored the ache in her heart.

“Alright, I’ve put back every single tape that was in the office,” Steve informed as he took the same position as her against the counter, “can’t we just call it a night? I really don’t think anyone’s braving the rain.”

“You’re already on Keith’s bad side, do you really wanna mess with that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I thought you had my back with him,” he countered, turning to face her as he placed his hands on hips, his eyes locked on hers.

“I mean, I usually do. But see, if I let you leave early and Keith asks, I’m gonna have to cover for your ass… and I just risk my own this time, Stevie,” she teased, a smirk pulling at her lips as she turned to him.

“Okay, well… then we just cover each other’s asses,” he suggested, leaning his elbow on the counter as he continued to face her.

She chortled, staring up at him before she shook her head, stepping away from him. “That’s some idea, Steve Harrington.”

“See, you’re being sarcastic but I really think there’s something to it-” he started to explain himself, but stopped as she grabbed his hand and dragged him behind her.

“I bet there is, but how ‘bout you help me sort the posters that came in this morning,” she interjected, pulling him into the back office.

Y/N walked into the room with Steve in tow, the desk covered with rolled up posters for the movies that they would have available at Family Video. She dropped his arm as she stood in front of the table, shuffling the pile in half as she moved one set closer to him.

“Alright, let’s open them and see what we got, then we can decide which ones go where,” she instructed, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, quickly getting started.

They took several minutes as they unrolled all the posters, seeing what they had and where in the store they were going to put them up. Y/N took the ones that they weren’t going to use and put them aside, keeping the ten that they were going to put up open with paperweights.

“I think we should put these four in the window,” she stated, pointing them out. “And these six inside, two on each wall.”

“Okay,” Steve said, removing the weights and picking up the first poster.

Y/N yelped as the corner of the paper nicked the top of her finger, causing her to flinch and pull her hand back. She looked down, trying to see if the skin had broken and if there was any blood.

“Oh shit, s-sorry,” he stuttered, moving over to her and quickly taking her hand in his. “You okay?”

She gulped, the feeling of his skin against hers having more of an effect on her than the paper. “Y-Yeah. No blood. I’m good.”

“Good,” he muttered, as he gave her a once over. “Those papercuts can be nasty.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, looking down at their hands.

Steve’s thumb brushed over her knuckles as their hands remained locked, neither of them pulling away. Her mind was reeling, and she knew she should’ve moved away from him but she couldn’t bring herself to. His fingers pressed against hers, feeling how soft her skin was. She didn’t even know that he felt the same way, and he had since the moment they met on his first day of work. It was as fast as a bullet, and he had only felt like that once before. Nancy Wheeler, second semester senior year. It was different to Nancy, though, and he knew that was a good thing but he was too scared that he would get burned like he had previously.

But he had to start letting that go.

Steve leaned in slowly, the gasp leaving her before he pressed his lips to hers making him smile a little as they kissed. It was soft, gentle, amazing. Along with that, it was far too brief as Y/N pulled away first, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I-I shouldn’t have done that-” he began to apologize, thinking that he misread the moment, but she stopped him by shaking her head, tugging on his green work vest.

“No,” she breathed, her lips pulling up into a smile. “I’m just surprised. I liked it, though.”

“Me too,” he added, smirking. “I like you, Y/N. So much.”

She huffed in disbelief, a small giggle escaping her. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he replied, before dipping his head once more.

She met him halfway, their lips moving against each other’s in a passionate kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pushed herself closer to him, his hands sliding down her back and onto her hips. He shifted her backwards towards the desk, his right hand leaving her and swiping the posters off the surface, sitting her down on top. Her legs wrapped around him as she reached for his work vest, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall on the floor. Their lips continued to move sensually as her hands slid down his chest, tugging at his shirt that was tucked into his jeans, but he stopped her, his fingers clasping hers.

“We shouldn’t do it like this,” he stated, softly once he pulled away. “I mean, I should at least take you on a date first, right?”

She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes. “You should… but not right now.”

He smirked, leaning in once more and kissing her, with as much passion as when their lips first touched. When she reached for his shirt again, he didn’t stop her, briefly pulling away to let her take it off him. She gasped softly as her hands slid down his soft, alabaster skin, feeling the ripple of his muscles. Their mouths met again as he pushed her Family Video jacket off her shoulders, her arms moving back to let it slip down and onto the floor. The kiss became heated just as her movements became frantic, not wanting to waste any more time. She laid back on the desk and pulled him close once he leaned over her. His lips left gentle pecks along her jaw and neck, his fingers plucking the buttons of her shirt open and exposing her white lace bra and more of her skin to pay attention to.

“Steve,” she breathed, her fingers combing through his incredible locks as he drifted down her body. “I-I”

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he muttered, leaving a kiss over her ribcage just as his eyes glanced up at her.

She gulped as she looked back at him, the glint in his eyes and the way she had always wished to hear him call her ‘baby’ being too much for her in that moment. She couldn’t think straight.

“I n-need, need your mouth,” she gasped, feeling his lips brush over her skin in the most delicious way possible.

“Here?” he asked as he placed a soft kiss to her stomach.

She groaned slightly. “L-Lower.”

“Oh,” he smirked, slowly unbuttoning her jeans and pulling them down sensually. He nipped at the flesh over her hip, a low chuckle leaving him as she jumped. “There?”

“Steve, please,” she whimpered, tugging lightly at his hair. “Don’t tease me anymore, please…”

He laughed again as he continued to remove the denim along with her panties, throwing them on the floor. He didn’t bother to remove her sneakers as he was far too impatient to get his mouth on her. He felt his cock swell, straining against his jeans but he wanted to pay attention to her first. He really did like her, and if he couldn’t take her on a first date before doing this, then he at least had to show her he cared in other ways. Y/N’s head tilted back and scraped lightly against the desk, a loud moan escaping her as his tongue licked a long stripe against her sex. Her calves rested on his shoulders as he shifted closer to her, his skilled muscle continuing to move over her folds. He groaned at the taste of her arousal as it met his tongue, the sounds vibrating against her and making her fingers clench in his luscious locks.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed. “Steve, that feels so good.”

He pulled away briefly, kissing her inner thigh as he peered up at her. “You taste so good, honey. Wanna feel you cum on my tongue. You can do that for me, can’t you, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” she stuttered, glancing down at him.

Steve continued his ministrations, bringing her the most euphoric feeling she had ever experienced as his tongue moved to her clit, running circles around it as he grabbed her hips tight in his hands. She pushed herself up one elbow, moaning as she bit her lip, watching the way he pleasured her. He picked up the pace, causing her to throw her head back with a lustful whimper, her hips rocking against him, grinding against his mouth.

“Fuck, yes, oh, Steve,” she moaned, wantonly. She held him in place by gripping his hair, wanting to get him as close as possible and hoping he didn’t pull away. “Oh god, r-right there…”

He alternated between paying attention to the bundle of nerves and her folds, moving his tongue faster. Short puffs of air left her as she became overwhelmed by what she was feeling, while he was like a man starved, relentless with his talented muscle as he brought her closer to the edge. She felt her core tighten and she knew she was close, her pelvis continuing to grind against him as she chased her release.

“Oh god, S-Steve, I-I’m close,” she cried out, her hands so tight in his hair she feared she’d pull out a few of those precious strands.

“Cum for me, honey, wanna feel it,” he muttered against her sex as he pulled away slightly, before he picked up where he left off.

She felt the pressure build up as waves of pleasure washed over her, and it was only a matter of moments before she fell over the edge, her arousal covering his tongue and mouth. He grunted against her as he lapped at everything she had to give him, making her shiver with a small moan leaving her. She breathed heavily as she giggled, her fingers combing his hair back while he shifted away slightly, their eyes meeting.

“That was…” she started, biting her lip to keep herself from grinning. She couldn’t stop herself though. “I think I saw stars.”

“Well, that was the goal,” he said, standing up between her legs, bringing them around his waist.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his moved around her, pulling her close as they kissed, passionately. She moaned at the taste of herself on his lips, her arousal growing as they continued their embrace. They were too caught up in their need for each other to hear the bell above the entrance to the store ring.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she ripped her mouth away from Steve’s, pushing him away and getting off the desk, picking up her jeans. He took his vest and put it on, as he was more decent than her at that point.

“You get ready, I’ll handle this,” he promised, kissing her cheek.

“Thank you,” she blushed. She loved how sweet he was and she couldn’t wait to see where things went with them.

He tucked his shirt back in, wiped his mouth and fixed his vest, looking her over once more and winking. She was amazing and he couldn’t believe that he finally got to be with her, but he was going to make sure he earned that. With one last look between them, he walked out of the office, clicking his fingers as he shook his head, smiling.

“So much for going home early.”

#anyfandomgoesbingo #anyfandomkinkbingo #Steve Harrington x Female!Reader #Steve Harrington x Female!Reader Smut #Steve Harrington x Female!Reader One Shot #Steve Harrington x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Steve Harrington Smut #Steve Harrington One Shot #Steve Harrington Fanfiction #Stranger Things Smut #Stranger Things One Shot #Stranger Things Fanfiction

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 3 months

Text

You can't always get what you want | Chapter 9 of The Princess and The Duke.

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Pete grows tense, Nancy meddles, and you wonder if you'll ever get what you want. Maybe you'll get something you need.

You can't always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you might find You get what you need

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: strained family relationships, abusive parent, threats of physical harm, abuse, mild violence, language, felonies being committed, mild smut, blue balls, angst, shock/dissociation, Police Station/Police Procedures,

Tags:

Author’s notes: Co-written by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine. Things aren’t getting easy quick, sorry/not sorry. The angst and drama will end, we promise. Follow @vi-notifs and turn on notifications for updates when new content drops!

[AO3 link]

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“Pete, I gotta stop,” you wheeze as you double over, stepping off the path and onto the grass of the park. Your lungs burn as you suck in large gasps of frigid air. Texas may be warmer than New York this time of year, but you had a gym membership there. Now you’re being forced to run, outdoors, in the winter.

“Come on, we’ve barely started,” Peter goads you as he jogs back towards you. You look up and groan as you straighten up.

“We’ve been jogging for an hour, Peter, I don’t do cardio, you know that.”

“Well, you should probably start, it’s good for you.”

“I understand the need for cardiovascular fitness, Pete,” you grumble as you glare at him, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Fine, let’s call it a day then,” Peter sighs dramatically but you know there’s no malice behind it. You’re pretty sure he’s just thrilled you even said yes in the first place.

“Shower back at mine, then get some lunch?”

“Oh, does this mean I finally get to see this new apartment of yours?”

“It’s been two days, Pete. You make it sound like I’ve shut you out intentionally.”

“Ash has seen your new place,” he says with a pout as you stroll back, arm in arm as you try and leech some body heat from him.

“Ash also helped me move in,” you point out with a nudge to his ribs.

“Sorry I’m not privileged enough to take a whole afternoon off to help you move, who moves on a Monday anyway?”

“Yeah? And who has random Wednesdays off to go jogging?” You throw back at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“You try being an ER nurse, I am at the mercy of the shift chart. I cherish my days off where I can get them,” he shoots you a glare and you concede defeat with a sheepish grin.

“It was all very last minute, I’m sorry,” you say as you stroll down the street, only a few blocks away from your apartment now.

“I wasn’t fishing for an apology,” Pete squeezes your arm, “But thank you.”

“I know, you’re not precious, but I do know I’ve been spending more time with Ash lately and I am sorry if you’ve felt left out.”

“Bitch, are you dying? Where’s this coming from?”

You laugh as Pete teases you. You’ve missed this.

“Note to self don’t be nice to Pete, ever again.”

“Ok, I deserved that,” he says with a scoff as you reach the stairs leading up to your building, “Damn this is nice!”

“Yeah, I got the rent cheap because of that double homicide last year,” you say with a shrug as you head up the steps.

“That was your place?” Peter steps back onto the curb and you groan as you look down at him from the stoop.

“Pete, please,” you rub your hand over your jaw in frustration, “Not you too.”

“You definitely have ghosts,” Pete responds with an indiscernible look on his face, “That’s fucking sweet.”

Pete bounds up the stairs and practically vibrates next to you as you shake your head. You unlock the door and check your post, as he hovers over your shoulder.

“So, have you had any paranormal events yet?”

“No, Pete, ghosts aren’t real,” you almost wish he was as superstitious as Ash, “Besides, what would that even look like?”

“I don’t know.” Pete sighs dramatically as if you’re spoiling his fun, “Cupboard doors opening on their own, cold spots, fuzzy lighting?”

“Pete, those things happen daily, I’m living in an apartment building, in Austin, with a corporate landlord.”

“That’s what they want you to think, it’s all about subverting-,”

You’re making your way to the kitchen when you hear the sharp intake of breath from Peter. You half expect him to be pointing to the corner of the room, imagination running wild at something invisible there. He is pointing to something in the room, mouth agape as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me you haven’t sat on these chairs?”

“Why wouldn’t I use furniture in my own home, Pete?”

“Because these are antiques!” He looks at you like you’ve just kicked a puppy.

“Pete, Dave said I could take whatever I needed, he didn’t mention anything about antiques.”

You shrug defensively as you meet his murderous gaze.

“Bitch, your sugar daddy stepdad gave you over eight Gs of pristine nineteenth century furniture,” he cocks an eyebrow at you, “And you don’t even know what you have?”

“I’m not an antique nerd, sue me,” you shrug as you fill two glasses of water and place them on the counter before heading to your bedroom ensuite. You try not to let his comment about Dave get under your skin, but it stings.

“Did your fancy law education in New York not teach you anything? Or did y’all just have IKEA furniture to snort your coke off?”

“Jesus, Pete,” you snap, “I didn’t do that shit. And no, funnily enough I was negotiating contracts worth more than a billion dollars a pop. I didn’t have time to have hobbies, or addictions.”

“I’m just being a salty bitch,” he grumbles as his face softens, “I want a sugar daddy that will buy me antiques.”

“He’s not my sugar daddy Pete, can you cut that out?” you say as you gesture towards your bedroom, “I’m jumping in the shower, can we talk properly about it over lunch?”

“Sure,” Pete says, his face pensive as you turn towards your bedroom.

You shower quickly and pull on some loose sweatpants and Dave’s USMC hoodie without thinking. You pad back into the open plan space to see Pete leaning against the counter, swiping through something on his phone.

“Alright, shower’s free,” you say, breaking Pete from his doom scrolling.

“I won’t be long.”

Pete waltzes into your ensuite and you can’t help but smile as he starts to sing.

~*~

“You got eyes on her?” Dave speaks into the concealed earpiece as he sits at his desk at the office. Each screen is set up to monitor two separate sets of surveillance feeds. The right one cycling through downtown Austin, where Nancy has been circling the same block for the past hour. He’d caught a glimpse of you and Pete in the neighborhood, missing Nancy by a few minutes as you’d ventured further into the city.

He tries not to think about it, because he knows exactly what street Nancy is on. If his suspicions prove true, she’s trying to find where you live. It feels like a betrayal, he’s tried so hard to keep his distance. He’s not once asked for your address, purposefully keeping things vague when you have spoken.

Now he fears Nancy is about to throw all that hard work away.

The other screen is locked in on an industrial lot on the far side of town. A black SUV is parked in a side street, the target arrived last night and hasn’t shown signs of movement since. Dave’s focus is divided, and he knows it. Anxiety claws at the back of his mind as he tries to manage both situations unfolding in front of his very eyes.

“Nancy’s just slipped into a building, boss,” Ari’s voice comes back in his ear, “Resnik must have given her the address.”

“He’s not that stupid,” Dave growls but doubt worries at the back of his mind. He’s been chasing Resnik for the most recent set of photos and there’s still no sign of them.

“Maybe not, but she’s gone inside an apartment building. Do you want me to get a closer look? Assess the situation?”

Dave sighs, a gust of frustration billowing from his flared nostrils as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do it,” He snaps as he notices movement on the other surveillance feed, “I need you to handle this Ari, we just went hot.”

Dave ends the call before patching back through to Kovak.

“You seeing this?” Dave asks as he minimizes Nancy’s surveillance feed, pulling up street level CCTV to replace it. He must be focused now, one slip up and this could go south quick.

“Yep, target’s on the move,” Kovak confirms as Dave nods to himself.

“Tail him, I’ve got eyes on street cams, the moment he stops I need you on him like a rash.”

“Got it, boss,” Kovak says, the sound of his engine starting as he begins to follow the SUV.

Dave watches as Kovak’s small hatchback comes into view on the CCTV. Of all the team, Dave trusts Kovak the most. He’s efficient, details oriented, and most of all someone Dave would consider a friend.

“Stay safe out there, happy hunting.” Dave says with finality before settling into his position as overwatch.

~*~

Nancy loiters across the street from your apartment building, her phone out as she flicks through the digital copies of the photos the PI sent over last night. She seethes at the images of the movers taking the furniture up into your apartment building. The loveseat and chairs were supposed to be hers, when she eventually divorced Dave. She was going to take him for everything she could.

But she puts her bitterness aside, looking between your building and the next unit over. She’s eighty percent sure she has the right place. The building number was obscured in all of the photos, but the steps and entryway look right.

She taps her foot, sure enough of the building, but still doesn’t know how she’s going to gain entry now. She flits across the road, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a Door Dash cyclist and leaps up the steps, immediately she finds the building’s intercom.

She smirks at the fresh label for apartment 2B. Your initial and last name spelled out for her. She tries the door but is met with resistance as the magnetic lock holds firm. She curses under her breath until she sees the USPS van pull up down the street.

Nancy pretends to rummage in her bag, huffing and puffing as she waits for the postal worker to ascend the steps. The man pays her no mind as he buzzes the Super’s office. There’s a brief exchange through the intercom before the telltale drone of the lock being deactivated sounds.

“I just found my keys,” Nancy laughs aloud, jangling her own house keys in triumph at the disinterested postal worker. She sneers at his back as he pulls out the mail for the building, paying Nancy no attention as he goes about his business.

“Have a lovely day!”

Nancy shouts at him as he leaves, waiting for him to close the door behind him before slinking over to the mailboxes. She sees yours, apartment 2B, and sees the corner of a manila envelope sticking up in the mail slot. Nancy can’t help herself; she thrusts her hand into the slot and gently eases out the envelope.

“Texas Board of Law Examiners,” she reads aloud as she sees the inked seal printed on the top corner of the envelope, “What are you up to?”

She tears open the letter as she ascends the stairs, she snorts to herself at the bundle of documentation. It’s the approval to have your Universal Bar Examination transferred from New York to Texas. She stuffs the paperwork back into the envelope, filing it away mentally to use against you later.

She reaches your apartment door, trying the handle just in case, but it’s locked. She searches under your doormat and on the top of the doorframe for a spare key but finds nothing.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way,” Nancy smirks to herself as she gets out a screwdriver and a hammer from her purse.

~*~

You throw down your cutlery in triumph as you finish up your meal, Peter is still pushing his salad around his plate as he mopes over his phone.

“Pete,” you groan as you hail the waiter over to get the check, “Stop being such a clingy bitch, he’s at work, not shagging his assistant.”

“You don’t know that” Peter narrows his eyes at you as he locks his phone, “I just haven’t had a connection like this before, he makes me crazy.”

“You were crazy before Alex,” you raise your eye as you kick him gently under the table, “What’s really got you strung out?”

Peter scowls at you for a moment before sighing and seemingly conceding defeat to your withering gaze.

“I’m going to propose,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper and your eyes go wide as you try not to scream in delight. You know Peter will kill you if you make a scene in public.

“Fucking hell, Pete. How long have you even been together?”

“Like six months,” he says with a grimace, but you shake your head, your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

“Have you picked out a ring?” You ask as you hand the waiter your card, Peter goes to protest but you shake your head, “My treat, I’ve made a lot in tips this month.”

“Thank you,” Pete’s face softens, and his eyes are glassy, “I’ve got a few options, I wanted to see if you would come ring shopping with me?”

“Of course, when?” You’re practically vibrating in your seat as you try and contain the excitement.

“Next weekend? Saturday?”

“Deal, holy shit, Pete,” you say with a sigh, “Who would have thought swinging-dick Peter would be the first of us ladies to settle down?”

“Oh, shut up, you’d be settling down if you weren’t thirsting over your stepdad.”

“Pete, come on,” you slump back in your seat, “It’s not like that, can we just celebrate you right now?”

“You said we’d talk about it properly over lunch. Here we are, so what’s there to even say?”

You suck on your teeth, trying to fight the urge to snap at him.

“Dave’s not some creep preying on his stepdaughter,” you say, knowing he’s not going to back down on it this time so you might as well get it all out in the open, “I care about him, Pete. It’s not about some kink, or the money. I like him for him, and I believe he feels the same way.”

“I’m just saying,” Pete says with his hands raised, “semantics aside, it’s still creepy. He knew where you were on your birthday, came storming up to us like a man possessed. He just gives me a vibe and I’m not into the whole stepcest thing either, hun. Even if it was juicy to watch Mike almost piss himself.”

“After almost getting fucking,” you lower your tone as you lean forward, “gang-raped a few months ago, I’m not exactly pissed that he came looking for me when I was vulnerable. He’s in some government department, Pete, he has to keep tabs on his family.”

Pete raises an eyebrow at you and cocks his head to the side.

“Exactly, his family.”

“Do you know what?” You snap, your chest tight with shame and embarrassment, “You seem to have made your mind up already. I don’t know why I bothered. This is some Nancy level judgement, Pete. I expected better from you.”

“Babe, that’s not-,” Pete starts but you cut him off. You can’t shake the truth from his words, it’s the rot at your core you’ve been ignoring for months. But it doesn’t take the sting out of it, if anything it festers deeper as you’re forced to confront it “I don’t want to hear it Pete, not now. I’ll see you around,” you snap as you storm out of the restaurant, tears running down your cheeks as you step out onto the sidewalk.

You power walk home, ignoring the incessant buzzing of your phone in your pocket. You know it’ll just be Pete, or Ash, and you just want to be alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think you’re overreacting, but Pete blindsiding you like that set you off. It’s the kind of shit Nancy pulls all the time, and for one of your supposed best friends to do it to you cuts deep.

You storm through the door to the foyer, not bothering to check the mailbox as you ascend the stairs two at a time. You’re about to fish your keys out of your sweatpants when you see the damage to the doorframe. The dark paint splintered, with jagged slivers of wood jutting out where the catch once was.

You feel like you’ve been doused with cold water as you step back against the wall behind you. You fumble to retrieve your phone, ignoring the multiple missed text messages and calls from Ash and Peter. You pull up Dave’s contact and hit call. It immediately diverts to voicemail, you call again. Voicemail. Your lip trembles as you try to decide what to do. You contemplate calling Ash, but you don’t want to have to deal with her guilt tripping you over Pete, not today.

“I’m calling the police,” you call into the apartment as you knock it open with the toe of your shoe. You wait for a response before dialing 911.

“Oh, honey,” your mother’s voice echoes from inside and you freeze, “It’s just me.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, voice low as you slowly make your way into the apartment. You keep your phone in one hand, keys held tightly in the other.

“I just thought I’d stop by and see your new place, I see Dave helped you out,” she says with a huff as she nods at the love seat and armchairs.

Nancy is leaning against your kitchen counter, fingertips drumming on the surface. A bright smile plastered across her face. You note the claw hammer protruding from her purse and your stomach churns. One arm is held behind her back, like she’s trying to hide something from you.

“How’d you know I had a new place? How’d you get my address? And Dave just let me take some stuff from his storage locker, he doesn’t even know where I live,” you say with as little accusation in your voice as you can muster. You know this look, the smile that hides the rage so well. Nancy is livid and you stop yourself from asking if she’s had anything to drink.

“Oh, I just asked around, shame Dave gave you these. I was going to make sure I got them in the settlement,” she says cheerily and steps forward, closing the distance between you and you take an instinctive step back.

“And the door?” You tilt your head over to the door.

“Oh, it was like that when I got here, nasty neighborhood you’re living in,” she says without a moment’s hesitation. You might have believed her if not for the evidence sitting pretty in her purse.

“Mom,” you groan, “please leave, I’ve had an awful day and I just want to be alone right now.”

“So, what is this?” She ignores your question, producing the envelope from behind her back and your jaw tightens.

“You went through my mail?” You hiss, rage building inside you as you feel the last tethers of restraint snap.

“Oh, don’t be like that, I did it all the time when you were growing up,” Nancy waves you off, pulling out the paperwork and pretending to read over it.

“Put that down.” You snarl, your fists balling at your sides as you try not to completely lose your shit.

“No.” Nancy looks at you, all pretense of kindness and motherly instinct gone in a flash as she holds your gaze, “You need to admit you’re fucking Dave, on record, because I’m divorcing him and you’re going to help me take him for every penny he has.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded as you try and fathom the depth of her derangement.

“You heard me,” she snaps, toying with the corners of each sheet of paper with her manicured fingertips, “Help me take him down, and I won’t shred your application, I know how much this stuff costs. Anders paid for your New York ones after all. What did you do to get Dave to pay for these? Let him fuck your ass? I never did let him do that.”

“Fuck mom, I don’t need to know what you let Dave do to you or not. I paid for these myself,” you say, jaw clenched as you hit dial on your phone.

“I call bullshit, there’s no way you’re not fucking him. You’re wearing that god awful hoodie of his for Christ’s sake, I’m not blind. Are you just using him for his money, or are you doing all this just to slight me?”

“Slight you?” You almost laugh, “I don’t need to do anything to slight you, Nancy. You've made it clear that I do that by just existing. Get out of my apartment, now.”

“What did you just call me?” Nancy snaps and you see her bravado falter.

“Look, I won’t do it, divorce him for all I care, but don’t you dare bring me into it,” you say as you hear the call handler ask what your emergency is.

“My mother has broken into my apartment; she has a hammer and I fear for my safety.”

“Are you in immediate danger?” You hear the dispatcher ask and you suck in a deep breath.

“You wouldn’t dare?” Nancy screeches as her face morphs into a mask of desperation, “I’m sorry, forget I said anything. Here, have the forms.”

“I am, please send help.”

She tries to crowd you, practically throwing the papers into your hands but you shake your head at her. You give your name and address to the call handler before looking Nancy in the eye.

“It’s too late for sorry, Nancy,” you spit, stepping further into the apartment, “I’m not a child anymore, you can’t use me like this.”

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nancy snaps and you barely dodge the slap that comes flying at you. You stumble back, clutching your phone for dear life as you stumble towards your bedroom. You can hear Nancy calling from the kitchen, but you throw open the bathroom door, locking it behind you.

You slump down onto the floor and cry, deep, throaty sobs that wrack your whole body. All you can do now is wait, and hope Nancy doesn’t rip down this door too.

“Miss? Are you still there?” You hear the muffled voice of the dispatcher and bring the phone back to your ear.

“Yes, I’m here, I’ve locked myself in the bathroom,” you respond between ragged breaths as you close your eyes.

“Stay on the line with me, ok? I’ve got officers on the way to you now.”

~*~

“Kovak, sitrep.”

Dave’s eyes burn as he rakes over the surveillance feeds, the SUV entered a parking garage ten minutes ago. Something is off and he knows it.

“Found the car boss,” Kovak’s voice rumbles in Dave’s ear, and he can already hear the disappointment in his teammates tone.

“Abandoned?” Dave asks, already knowing the answer.

“Affirmative,” Kovak says dryly, “Next move?”

“Return to the office; we need to regroup.” Dave sighs as he lets out a heavy sigh. He’s sweaty, tired, and most of all furious that he lost the target. It’s been weeks since the last sighting and this was the best shot they had of getting him.

“See you back at the ranch, boss.” Kovak signs off and Dave takes out his earpiece before throwing it into the top drawer of his desk.

He looks at the time and groans. It feels like hours have passed, but it’s only two in the afternoon. He fishes his phone out of his pants and his heart rate skyrockets as he sees the missed calls from you. He pulls up the security feed from where Nancy was last seen, and he curses at the scene before him.

Three police cars and an ambulance are parked in front of the apartment building, a crowd has gathered around where the police cordoned the area. He feels his blood run cold. Immediately he calls you, but it goes to voicemail. He dials Ari instead.

“Boss?” Ari answers on the third ring.

“What the fuck is going on down there?” He snarls into the handset as he shrugs on his suit jacket, already shutting down his computer.

“Shitshow, boss, you get our guy?” Ari asks, and Dave almost snaps at him but just manages to keep his cool as he locks his office door behind him.

“No, what’s going on, Ari? Details, now.”

“Nancy showed up around lunch time, the girl an hour or so later. Next thing I know the police are here.”

“Was it just my fucking wife? No one else?”

“Just her, but it can’t be good, boss,” Ari says and Dave sighs, he knows Ari can’t get anywhere near the building right now.

“Alright, thanks, Ari. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’d hurry, you might miss your wife being taken out in cuffs.”

Dave smiles to himself at the mental image before hitting the stairs, he’s too anxious to wait in an elevator.

~*~

“Open the door you, fucking bitch,” Nancy wails as you feel her assaulting the door with her whole body.

You’re braced against it, your feet planted firmly on the tiled floor, as you desperately try to keep her out. Your body aches. You’ve been talking with the dispatcher for the whole time, but topics of conversation are wearing thin.

“Officers are arriving on scene any minute now, stay put.”

You don’t have time to thank the dispatcher before Nancy launches into yet another tirade.

“First you fuck my husband, now you call the cops on me. What kind of a daughter are you?”

You don’t answer, she can’t have any proof that you and Dave have slept together, but you don’t know what you could say to appease her right now. Your mind is focused on just surviving, not letting Nancy through the door. There’s nothing else you can concentrate on. “Police!” You hear the shout from beyond the door, followed by a yelp from Nancy.

“Hello, officers, what can I do-?”

“Get on the ground, hands behind your head.” The officer barks and you slump back against the door.

“The officers have arrived, they’re dealing with her now,” you say in a hushed voice to the dispatcher, your body is tense as you wait out the standoff.

“Stay put until an officer gives you the ‘all clear’, ok?”

“I will.”

You hear the static snap and chittering of a taser being deployed before the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. You can’t help but let yourself smile at the image of Nancy being tasered on the other side of the door.

You hear the officers on the other side of the door as they maneuver Nancy’s unconscious form. A soft knock at the door startles you and you haul yourself up onto your feet.

“Is she gone?” You call through the door.

“She’s being taken to the patrol car, she’s out cold. You can come out if you want?” The female officer informs you.

“Ok I’m coming out,” you say, both to the officer and into the handset.

“I’ll leave you with the officers on the scene, take care,” the dispatcher says, and you thank her before pocketing your phone.

You open the door gingerly, eyes flitting around the room to check that Nancy was really gone.

“You got someone you can call? We’ve got an EMT on their way up, so stay put. We’ll need to take your statement down at the station too.” The officer asks and you nod, you’re pulling your phone back out when a call comes in.

Dave

You answer without hesitation.

“Fuck. I’m so glad you called.”

“I’ve been calling you nonstop, kept going to voicemail,” Dave’s voice is close in your ear, and you feel the rush of serotonin flow through you. It’s like he’s already there, anchoring you.

“I was on the phone to the police,” you say with an exasperated huff.

“You ok? What’s happening?” Dave asks and you hear the distorted rumble of his Mustang in the background.

“They’re waiting on an EMT to come check me over, Nancy broke in and started making threats. They’ll want me to make a statement down at the station.” You say as your voice breaks a little, the severity of the situation finally catching up with you. You’re following the officer out of your room when you see the shredded pile of paperwork at the foot of your bed. The Texas Board of Law Examiners logo is visible, confirming that it was the paperwork Nancy claimed it to be.

Way to go mom, adding mail theft to your rap sheet.

You think to yourself as you make your way to one of the armchairs.

“What’s your address? I’m coming to help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s already trying to bully me into helping her take you down,” you say as vaguely as possible.

“I don’t care,” Dave says with conviction, and you close your eyes. You’re too tired to argue, and the offer is too tempting. You need him, now more than ever. You give him the address as you set yourself down on one of the armchairs in the main room. An EMT appears in the doorway and makes a beeline for you once the officers let him in.

“EMT is here,” you say absently as you feel your last reserves of adrenaline ebb from your body, “I need you.”

“I’m coming, hold on.”

“I’ve got to go, thank you for helping me, Dave.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m a few minutes out, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The EMT checks for any obvious wounds, asks if you’re hurting anywhere. You say you’re fine, you let him check you over for concussion. He asks where you are, what your address is, standard triage as you comply numbly.

You hear a commotion from the hallway and turn towards the door. The moment you see him your resolve shatters. Your eyes are wet with tears and his face falls in despair. His soft brown eyes are wide, his mouth pursed into a thin line as he looks you over.

“Dave.”

“I’m here,” he says softly as he flashes his badge at the officer at the door.

“Sir, we need to take her to the station. Are you her boyfriend?” The male officer from before says as Dave steps over the threshold.

“I’m family,” he says, and you note the strain in his voice.

“We need to take her down to the station, sir.”

“I’ll take her, 5th precinct, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” the officer confirms and Dave nods.

“Alright, come on, we’ll get this over and done with, together.”

The drive to the station goes by in a blur, Dave doesn’t press you to talk. You barely register the fact that he’s on the phone, talking to someone about counsel. You don’t notice you have arrived until he guides you by the arm into the precinct. As he hands you over to the detectives on duty, he reminds you not to speak to anyone until you’ve got legal counsel.

You’re sat at a desk in the middle of an open plan room – you vaguely remember it’s called a bullpen – as you wait for the detective to come see you. Your head feels like it’s floating, your body slumped as you try and stay focused, but everything just feels off. Your fingers don’t feel your own as you flex and bend them in front of your face.

“Miss?”

You look up to see a woman, not much older than you, hovering at your elbow. You smile absently at her and wonder why she’s bothering you. There’s a nagging at the back of your mind, you’re in a police station, something happened.

“We need to talk about what happened,” the woman says as she takes a seat next to you. You like her necklace. You fixate on the silver Tree of Life hanging around her neck as she speaks.

“Can you tell me why you called the police?”

“I don’t know, I-?”

“Not another word,” Dave’s voice booms from over your shoulder and you look up to see his face stony, “Her legal counsel is on the way, she isn’t saying anything else until they arrive.”

“She’s not under arrest, Mr-,”

“Special Agent York, CIA,” Dave cuts her off as he pulls his coat to the side, revealing his badge as he looks down at the detective.

“Agent York,” the detective glowers up at him, “respectfully, why is the CIA even involved here?”

“That,” Dave says with a click of his tongue, “is above your pay grade.”

“Dave?” You say softly as you shudder from a sudden chill, “when can I go home?”

“Soon,” he says, his face softening the moment he catches your gaze, “Here, I’ve got to go speak to the Watch Sergeant, if your counsel – Jimmy – arrives before I’m back, you can trust him, ok?”

“You are coming back through, right?” Your voice is meek and wavering. Something deep within you resents how pathetic you sound, but you don’t have any energy to truly care.

“Of course,” he says softly as he takes his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, “I’m just upstairs. I’ll make sure someone brings you some coffee, ok?”

“Ok,” you nod as you slip your arms into the sleeves, immediately pulling the fabric around you. You smell like Dave, fresh perspiration, his spiced body wash, it grounds you. Dave leaves without another word and you watch him go.

“He’s a protective one, isn’t he?” The female detective asks, and you nod slowly. She’s pretty, with long dark hair and soft brown eyes. Her suit is tailored and her heels low. Focusing on her seems to help you come back to your senses a little.

“He’s a good man,” you respond with a nod as you bury your nose in the collar of the jacket. You don’t want to be here, you just want Dave, you want to go home.

“So, who is he to you?”

“I’m not saying anything without legal counsel present,” you say, eyes narrowing as you try and figure out her angle. The familiarity of the legal process bringing you back to yourself a little more. The sound of the bullpen is suddenly loud in your ears. You can hear telephones ringing off the hook, the smell of coffee and fried food invades your senses.

“Alright,” she puts her hands up, “I was just trying to make conversation, you don’t have to do everything the CIA agent says, you know?”

“I know,” you say firmly as you sit up straight, “I may be the victim here, but I’m not jeopardizing my case by saying anything until my counsel’s here.”

“Clever girl, you watch a lot of Law and Order?” She scoffs and if it were anyone else, you’d have probably laughed along. But the comment stings at your already bruised ego, and you’re done being talked down to.

“Actually, I was an attorney in New York up until last year, about to transfer my UBE to Texas.”

“I see,” the detective frowns before shrugging and sitting behind her desk.

“Coffee for you, miss,” a young police officer addresses you and hands you an oatmeal and raisin cookie and a to-go cup of coffee, “Agent York said you might be hungry too. This is all I could get from the vending machine.”

“That’s wonderful,” you peer at his name badge, “Thank you, Officer Jameson.”

“My pleasure,” the officer says with a grin before leaving.

You sit there, sipping on the poor excuse for coffee in your hands as you toy with the wrapper of the cookie. You know you should eat but you’re just not hungry. Your name is called from behind you, and you turn to see a sharply dressed man approach you. His maroon suit is designer, his steely hair perfectly slicked-back, his wingtips strike the bullpen floor like punctuation.

“Morello, I trust you haven’t been too chatty with my client? Coercing her to talk without counsel present is a low blow, even for you.”

“O’Hare,” Morello says, her expression hardening as she looks between you both, “you know I’d never even dream of it.”

“Sure, sure.” Jimmy rolls his eyes at the detective, “I need a room with my client, no cameras, no two-way windows. Complete privacy.”

“Captain’s out all day, could use her office, you know where it is,” The detective huffs as she turns to her computer, pretending to look busy.

“Always a pleasure, Morello. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to talk,” Jimmy says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turns to face you, “Follow me, I know this place a little too well.”

“You friends with Dave?” You ask as you do as instructed, you have to work to keep up with Jimmy’s long strides.

“Something like that,” he laughs at the notion, “We’ve known each other for a very long time.”

“Did you serve together?” You ask as he leads you upstairs, gaining a few wary glances from the officers on duty. You reach the captain’s office, and he pauses, knocking twice and waiting a moment before cracking the door open.

“Not exactly,” Jimmy says as he ducks his head into the room, “Come on, this shouldn’t take us long.”

“You sure we can use this room?” You ask hesitantly as you linger on the threshold.

“Oh no, we most definitely shouldn’t be using it. Felicia will kill me if she knows I used her office like this,” Jimmy laughs as he flops down on a sofa to the left of the door, “Morello could have sealed off a break room for us, but she likes to fuck with me.”

“Who are you really?” You ask as you settle on an armchair opposite him. You put down your coffee and untouched cookie on the low coffee table before clasping your hands in front of you, propping your elbows on your knees.

“I’m Jimmy O’Hare, lead partner at O’Hare, Schmidt, and Bowles,” his answer rolls off his tongue, a rehearsed response.

“And I’m to believe you,” you gesture at him up and down, “a prestigious law firm’s partner is just going to waltz in and take my measly B&E, and assault case on? There must be hundreds of these cases daily in the city of Austin alone.”

“True, but most people aren’t Dave York’s stepdaughter.”

Your stomach lurches at the reminder of your relationship and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. You’re still too raw from your argument with Peter.

“Surprised you’re not in there with my mom if that’s the tenuous link between us,” you scoff and you notice the way Jimmy’s lips twitch at the mention of Nancy.

“I think you know why Dave sent me to help you,” he says knowingly as he points to your chest. You look down, mortified as you remember you still have Dave’s hoodie on. You try not to react but your eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation. You cringe internally as you realize you’re also wrapped in his suit jacket.

“Enough,” you say, your voice sounding stronger than you expected it to, “We need to get this airtight and I want to go home.”

“Suits me just fine, let’s go through the timeline of events, walk me through it.”

You sigh and rub your sweaty palms on your sweatpants before relaying the events to Jimmy as best you can. It takes less than twenty minutes before he’s finishing up his notes.

“And the documentation you mentioned, you said it was your confirmation to transfer your UBE?”

“Correct,” you confirm, eager to be done with this.

“So, it’s a Class A misdemeanor, there are fines and prison time is almost certain, especially with the other felonies and misdemeanors she collected today,” Jimmy says and you’re nodding along almost mechanically as you try and work through this last part.

“Ok, I want to file for a Protective Order, we should be able to get one on the grounds of stalking, and violence, right?”

“I was just about to suggest a PO,” Jimmy nods, taking down a few more notes on his legal pad, “She’ll probably make bail, so it’s in your best interest to get one. Between the 911 call recording and the screwdriver and claw hammer, we’ve got a solid case for one.”

“Ok, are we done here?”

“I just need you to read over and sign this statement, then we can drop it off with the detectives before getting your photos taken. I should have you out of here in less than an hour.”

“Great,” you say as you take the statement from him, you scan it quickly before signing and handing it back over.

“Sure you gave that enough due care and attention before signing?” Jimmy asks with a skeptical twitch of his brow.

“Jimmy,” you sigh, “Can I call you Jimmy?” He nods and you continue, “I’m not stupid, you’re clearly very good at this, and Dave has hired you to help me. I also used to skim read case bundles on the subway on my way to court. I know what to look for and how to make a case. If I took longer to review it, I’d be a pretty average attorney. I’m better than that, and you know it.”

“Dave warned me about your smart mouth,” Jimmy chuckles, and he nods approvingly, “Alright, let's get this show on the road.”

“Smart mouth? I think you meant to say competent?” you sass back at Jimmy and his face lights up, but he says nothing more.

The next hour and a half go by in a blur. You answer follow up questions from Morello, Jimmy interjecting when needed, and get your photos taken. There’s still no sign of Dave as you finish up with the evidence team. Your phone is dead and you’re about to ask Jimmy to call you a cab when you see Dave come through the double doors that lead to the bullpen.

“There you are,” Dave says, his smile radiant as he sees you, “Jimmy, thanks for this. I really appreciate you dropping everything and helping out.”

“It’s no problem, you pay well, and I owe you at least another hundred favors. It was the least I could do.”

Dave nods and pulls the older man into a tight embrace. They separate with a curt nod and Jimmy makes for the exit.

“Oh, and kid?” He calls over his shoulder, looking at you as he goes, “When you’re licensed to practice in Texas, give me a call. Dave’s got my number.”

“You bet!” You call after him before turning to look at Dave. The sight takes your breath away. His hair is messy, disarrayed from where he’s been running his fingers through it all afternoon. His sleeves are rolled up, his top few buttons undone, you can see the glisten of sweat on his brow. All you want to do is reach out and kiss him, pull him against you and fuse your lips to his.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says softly and you let out a sigh of relief. You walk out together into the frigid air, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to stop yourself from taking his hand in yours. Instead, you opt to bury your nose in the fabric of his suit jacket.

The ride home is quiet, but you don’t mind, Dave parks in your designated bay around back and you are reminded that you need to get your own car soon. He ushers you through the door while he calls your super about the broken doorframe, telling you not to worry and to go and shower.

You shower and change into a pair of loose cotton shorts and Dave’s hoodie. Your bare feet pad noiselessly as you make your way back into the main room of the apartment.

“Thank you, yes, we’ll both be here,” Dave says down the phone before hanging up. He sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, not yet noticing you.

“Was that about the door?” You ask, and immediately Dave’s eyes snap open. His gaze lingers and you see the way he swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, they’re sending the maintenance guy out first thing tomorrow, told us to just wedge it shut for now.”

“That’s safe,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you settle down on the loveseat. You rest against the arm of the chair, bringing your feet up onto the cushion as you rest your chin on your knees.

“I can sleep on the couch, if that’ll make you feel better?” Dave says almost a little too quickly before clearing his throat, “Sorry that was a little forward, if you don’t want me to stay here with you, I can get you a hotel room? That way you are safe, and I can be here tomorrow for deal with the maintenance guy.”

“I want you to stay,” you say as you try not to laugh at Dave’s bashfulness.

“Only if you’re sure?” He says as he crosses the open plan room, you can see the hesitation in his face as he lingers at the other end of the loveseat, unsure if he can sit or not.

“I’m sure, sit with me, please?”

Dave lowers himself down onto the couch and you fight the urge to nudge his thigh with your feet.

“Dave?” your voice is barely more than a whisper as you look at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” He answers as he leans back, eyes closed as he rolls his shoulders.

“Nancy said something today,” you say softly, “I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, but she all but said she was going to file for divorce.”

Dave says nothing but he lets out a heavy exhale, his entire body shuddering as he seems to sink further into the sofa.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you say as you shrink back against the armrest, you wait for the scolding remark. You brace yourself for the reprimand for bringing such a difficult topic up. Your walls come up like armor as you wait for the inevitable sting of rejection.

“Hey,” Dave’s voice is low, and you blink away unshed tears as you realize you’ve curled up, away from him on the sofa, “What’s wrong, what did I do?” He asks and you look up into his dark eyes.

“Nothing,” you mutter, the guilt and shame bubbling inside you like a festering wound, “I’m just dealing with a lot right now.”

“Talk to me,” Dave says as he turns towards you, one arm stretched out over the back of the sofa. It’s a silent invitation, welcoming you. It feels like home, “Let me help.”

You close the distance between your bodies, pressing into his side, just like the night in the basement after Tristan. You keep your hands balled, tight against your chest, not trusting yourself to hold him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in tight as he rests his head against your own.

“This helps,” you murmur into his chest as you take a deep inhale, “Thank you.”

Slowly your hand creeps over his chest, sliding up to his shoulder as you anchor yourself to him. It’s innocuous enough, you just want to feel him, but you know it’s not enough, you want more. You pull back and look up at Dave, his dark eyes searching yours.

His lips are parted as his eyes flit from your mouth and back up to your eyes. There’s an unmistakable energy between you now, something you’ve both repressed for a long time. You tilt your head up, your lips almost touching his as you beg him silently to close the distance.

It’s a soft, furtive, sensation as his lips meet your own. Testing, teasing, as he waits for you to respond. You hold back a whimper as you chase the contact. Your lips collide in a burst of hot, eager kisses. Each hungrier than the last as you move your hand from his chest to his jaw, pulling him to you as his tongue darts along the seam of your lips.

You let him in, his thick tongue claiming your mouth with a fervor that stirs molten desire in your core. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him to you as you slide onto his lap. Your body moves on its own as you hear him groan beneath you, Dave’s hands move to your waist. You grind down onto his hardening cock and shudder as he bucks up into you. His teeth catch your bottom lip as you scrape your nails through his hair, dragging against his scalp.

Your hands wander down his torso now, pulling on his shirt as he groans into your mouth. Your hands fall to his belt buckle, and you feel him freeze beneath you. His hands gently grab your wrists, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Stop,” he breathes as he presses his forehead against yours. He moves his hands from your wrists to your shoulders, gently putting distance between you, “We can’t do this, you’ve been through so much today, it wouldn’t be right.”

Your eyes snap open and the pain on Dave’s face breaks you, it tears you out of your trance and you virtually jump up. Stepping away from him, bile rising in your throat as you realize what you were about to do, the impossible, awful situation you just put him in.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you stand up from the couch, “I’m sorry, I’m going to bed.”

Dave calls your name, but you don’t turn back as you practically run from him. Shame and self-hatred coursing through your veins as you close the bedroom door behind you. You don’t have to lock the door, you know Dave won’t enter your space, he’s too good for that.

Too good for you.

A small voice in the back of your mind taunts.

It’s hard to ignore it, that nagging anxiety that you’re the bad actor in all this. You could have, should have, let this fantasy go months ago. That all of this is your fault. You crawl into bed, wrapping your sheets around you as you sob noiselessly into your pillow.

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ghostlynachopanda · 1 year

Text

Study date

a/n: I failed tf out of all my exams this week. at least it's spring break though. I'm SUPER tired and didn't read this so tell me if it's good. Here's this one pals, enjoy

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.9k

~~~

Wednesday had offered to help you study for the upcoming exams. Knowing it would be better to study with someone who will hold you accountable, you easily agreed. Wednesday knew she would ace her exams, she also knew you would do just fine without her. Nonetheless, she wanted to be the reason you came up to her with a breathtaking smile while showing off the grade you got. There was just one problem, you were late.

Wednesday didn’t know if she should be annoyed or worried. You were never late, not when it came to Wednesday. Your punctuality never went unappreciated, though she never outright said anything. All Wednesday could do was count the minutes go by as she awaited your arrival.

10 minutes had passed and you still hadn't come knocking with an apology already spilling from your lips. 10 minutes of sitting in an empty dorm, the only sounds being her breathing and the shuffling of her clothes. Wednesday decided she would reprimand you for being late, for making her waste her time waiting. She sat at her desk, contemplating what exactly to say to you to get the point across in the most efficient way.

Another 10 passes and Wednesday’s anger fades into worry. She had no idea where you are or what you were doing. She cannot fathom what could be more important than getting here on time, studying for your exams, and spending time with her. Except, there’s a possibility you’re injured somewhere and unable to reach her. The thought alone sends an unknown feeling to her stomach, settling uncomfortably. She waits, ashamedly hopeful you'll show up and relieve her of this feeling.

5 minutes pass with the uncomfortable weight in her stomach. The feeling is starting to get too much, Wednesday decides enough is enough. She abruptly stands from her chair, knocking it back a few feet before walking to the door.

Wednesday yanks the door open to find you. You reel back in surprise and bring your hand back down to your side. You both stare at each other for a moment, both too shocked to say anything. You part your lips to say something, but before any words come out you are hauled into Wednesday's dorm by the collar of your shirt.

The silence that follows the door slam is eerie. Wednesday hasn't said anything to you, just taking time to examine you. The first thing she notices is the cut on your lip and the bruise on your jaw, both look fresh and not something someone could get from themself. Second is your clothes, covered in dirt and some holes that definitely weren't there before. The last thing is the apprehensive look in your eyes. As much as she savors that same look from everyone else, she doesn't like the way it looks on you. She takes a brief moment to calm herself, letting the feeling in her stomach fade away before speaking, "You're late."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," you replied softly, not wanting to make her angrier. Wednesday looks at you before saying, "Sit on the floor, I should have an ointment for your lip and jaw."

You do as your told, moving to sit on Wednesday's side of the room while she searches for her first aid kit. You are mesmerized by the way she moves graciously around the room, momentarily forgetting about the ache in your jaw and throbbing of your lip. She walks back over with a tube in her hand, kneels beside you, and tenderly grasps your chin. She angles your face to give her the best view of your jaw, seeing the already bruising skin.

"Who did this to you," she asks feeling her blood start to boil. Whoever did this will face appropriate punishment.

"No one important," you respond, appearing unaffected by the injuries and whatever events led to it. Wednesday sends you a pointed look, making you sheepishly avert your eyes. "It's really nothing important, Wednesday." you tried to explain, making her sigh.

Wednesday knows she won't get anything from you, not when you think it isn't worth talking about. She gently starts applying the ointment, careful not to press too hard on the bruise, not wanting to hurt you. She feels your eyes on her, she locks eye contact, wanting to see if she accidentally hurt you. All Wednesday can see is a fondness in your eyes, making her quickly avert her eyes and say, "You look good like this,"

"Like this?" you ask, confused about what she meant. But, she doesn’t answer, content with leaving you confused.

Once she finished applying ointment to your jaw she angled you to look directly at her. Once again, Wednesday is caught off guard by the look you're giving her. Still had the same look from moments prior, but still made that fluttering feeling appear in her stomach. She focuses in on your lips, and an urge to kiss them washes over her. Barely able to refrain from kissing you, she starts applying the ointment.

Wednesday forces herself to stand when she's done, putting ample space between you two before saying, "Grab your textbook, we'll be starting on chapter 5." making you groan.

------

You two had gone over almost everything you needed to review for your exams. It alleviated some of the stress you were feeling, after a quick review of the notes you decided now would be a good time to leave.

Sitting up straight and relaxing the muscles in your neck and shoulders, causing you to release a sign of relief. Fatigue caught up with you faster than you thought, causing you to slump down to the floor. Wednesday looked at you, seeing goosebumps on your exposed skin and how tired you looked.

"You're going to get dirt on more than one part of my floor," Wednesday said, making you turn your head to look at her.

"Are my clothes really that dirty?" you asked

"That is the reason we are studying on the floor, yes."

You groan lightly, unhappy dirty clothes were the reason for sitting on the uncomfortable floor for the last couple of hours. Despite the fatigue you feel, you sit up and look at her before saying,

"I think now is a good stopping point. I'm going to head back to my room,"

"You’re leaving already?" she asked incredulously, though her voice was even. First, you had the nerve to show up late, injured, and refused to tell her anything about what happened, but now you're trying to leave?

"Yeah, I'm really tired and it’s almost curfew. Could we do this again another time?" you asked with hopefulness littering your voice. Wednesday always found it hard to say no to that tone.

"Will you be late?"

"I'll try my hardest not to be," you reply with a small smile. It makes Wednesday pause, she didn't want you to leave yet. She hadn’t spent enough time with you today, and not only that, you’re wounded. She just wanted to make sure you took care of your injuries.

"Stay there," Wednesday said, standing up and walking to her closet. Leaving you to sit and watch her, this time confused as to what she's doing. You peek at what she's doing and see her riffle through her vast choices of black clothing.

"Wednesday?" this situation confuses you. All you wanted to do was sleep in your warm bed. The holes in your shirt provide the cold air a chance to nip at the exposed skin. She doesn’t answer, instead silently walking in your direction with neatly folded clothes in her arms.

When she reaches you, she puts her arms out and looks at you expectantly. When she realizes you're unsure what to do, she says, "Change into these."

"Whatever you want, Wednesday" you respond, still confused about what's happening but too tired to even comprehend what she's implying. You grab the clothes and just look at them, where exactly does Wednesday want you to change? You look up at her and see her steadily looking back, she says again, "Change into those,"

"No, I know what you want me to do. But, uh," you trail off, looking away to hide your reddening cheeks. "where exactly do I change?" you ask, glancing at her.

Wednesday didn't think that part though, truthfully you could change anywhere you wish. Enid was not coming back tonight so anywhere was acceptable, but did Wednesday expect you to just take your clothes off right in front of her? The thought of seeing more of your skin, seeing what is hidden under your clothes makes her cheeks warm. She quickly turns away and says, "go change in my closet, but do not touch anything or get dirt on anything other than the floor."

You nod and quickly go to change, giving you both a chance to calm yourselves. When you start putting on Wednesday's clothes your fatigue is washed away. Realizing you will be wearing Wednesday's clothes makes you want to squeal, but you stop yourself. You take your time gathering your clothes and taking a deep breath before going back into the main room. Walking over to your bag to see all your stuff already neatly put away just the way you like. Gently placing your clothes on the floor next to it, you turn around.

Wednesday has been staring at you since you walked out of the closet. She never could have predicted how good you looked in black, how good you looked in her clothes. A wave of possessiveness overwhelms her. It’s unfair what you're unintentionally doing to her, what you’re making her feel. The work she put in to make her flushed cheeks go away was for nothing, the red coming back tenfold. Wednesday decides then she's fond of you wearing her clothes, just like she is to your kisses.

Wednesday can't stop herself from walking over to you, taking you in with every step she takes. You somehow look even better up close. She steps into your personal space, looking at every inch of you. "You look beautiful," she says breathlessly, not bothering to hide the endearment in her eyes or the red on her cheeks.

You look down at yourself, and eye the clothes before quietly asking, "you think so?"

"Undoubtedly" she replied sincerely.

Your breath hitches, your brain becoming useless at her compliment. You want to return the compliment, want to say she looks gorgeous. But the way she's looking at you makes any coherent thought fly out the window. Your mouth opens slightly but closes shortly after, words are failing you miserably. Your lips tremble with unsaid words and Wednesday can't take it anymore.

Wednesday moves to smash her lips against yours, taking pride in the hum and exhales you let out. Both of you moving in sync, the feeling of your lips on hers is still as addictive as the first time. She moves her hands to clutch at the black shirt you wore, pulling you as close; not wanting any space between you two. You do the same by placing your hands on her jaw, not letting her pull away. You both hope what you're feeling is expressed.

Breaking the kiss only when air becomes a necessity, placing your forehead against hers. Slightly breathless from the intensity of the kiss. Wednesday watches your eyes travel across her face before settling on her lips again so she whispers, "Let's head to bed, my love"

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix

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britcision · 1 year

Text

I gave you Danny last week, and continuing my cruel streak of not giving you the Bruce-And-Constantine that makes up most of the meat of this chapter… 😈 have some Jason!

We’re close to the end my dears so with any luck this is the last WIP Wednesday we’ll spend on chapter 11, and get that posted soon! I’m just slowing down a little, because Jason’s… well, he’s a little heavy in this one

Needs some cheering up. As always, the rest of the fic is in the tag and on AO3 under Danny Fenton: Dead and Loving It

——————

Fuck the no killing rule, Jason was gonna murder Harley Quinn. And by that, yeah, he probably actually meant “seek vengeance in some small but annoying way”, but still.

He didn’t actually have a crush on Danny. It was a bit they were putting on to fuck with his nosey brothers, and it was probably a good sign that they’d apparently fooled Harley too.

But Harley was a hopeless romantic and prone to see romance where none existed, so maybe it wasn’t that good.

More importantly, Danny didn’t fucking know he was Red Hood yet. He’d have to text Harley tonight and drill that in, since she’d definitely picked up that Danny was in on the secret.

And since apparently they were all gonna be hanging out tomorrow.

He kinda wished he hadn’t brought it up. That Harley hadn’t asked.

He’d monopolised so much of Danny’s time already over the break, three full days and they still had to make that run back to Frostbite.

Danny must have had some other plans. Something he actually wanted to do with his time instead of just following Jason around.

The gala had been fun though. And so had today, it just… Jason couldn’t help feeling he was being too needy. Too clingy, with a guy he’d known for all of a week if you were generous.

Being around Danny made him feel like himself for the first time in fucking years, and he knew what he’d have given up for that.

He didn’t want to be too much. Too pushy. Didn’t want Danny to get sick of hanging out with him so soon, and leave him right back where he’d been; bitter, angry, and alone.

At least Danny didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Harley’s parting shot. There was definitely something on his mind, but they hadn’t actually unlinked arms.

Jason could feel his aura.

Concern-worry-worry.

Shit, they hadn’t fucking unlinked arms. Should they? Should Jason have? For fucks sake he was literally clinging to the guy, this was fucking ridiculous, he should just.

But Danny hadn’t pulled away.

It’d be weird to pull away now.

Jason managed to keep himself distracted in that little spiral all the way to the garage he’d parked his bike in. Danny waited until they left the manor’s grounds to speak again though, arms tightening around Jason’s chest.

“Pull over a sec?” He called above the wind, and Jason very firmly did not let that pitch him further. He pulled over, still firmly in the heights and far from any living souls.

Unless theirs counted. Probably not.

He dropped the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, hoping Danny just wanted to talk. Maybe ask him to make his excuses to Harley.

Ask Jason to drop him at the university and not follow him home. That’d make sense. He didn’t need a wayward puppy.

He didn’t actually get off the bike. Didn’t want to give up Danny’s arms wrapped around him, even if it was just for expedience.

And maybe realised that wasn’t a great idea when Danny rested his cheek on Jason’s back and a warm wave of relax-safe-reassurance threatened to swallow him.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason damn near bolted. Barely heard the next words, which…

Well.

He knew Danny tended to overlook things. But it turned out he could be pretty damn perceptive too.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know. Cass. I can feel her anywhere in the city if I try, and I’ll know if something happens to her.”

And just like that, the bottom dropped out of Jason’s stomach.

He’d been trying not to think about it. Pretended he didn’t know what she’d be doing when she left, out in the city, one fucking accident from being like him.

Even worrying about Danny getting sick of him was better than that.

She might not even need the pit to bring her back this time. Gotham had a fuck ton of native ectoplasm even for a city; it couldn’t not.

Ectoplasm was made of and attracted to raw emotional energy. For all that people died every day in the city, more were born or moved in to join their ranks.

Gotham would be a metaphorical ghost town if they hadn’t, instead of the literal version slowly creeping across the city’s vigilantes.

From the rogues’ overdramatic schemes to the peoples’ undercurrent of rage and defiant joy, Gotham seethed with emotion. Most of the dead didn’t stay to use the ecto up, and every rogue attack brought a fresh wave.

Not clean ectoplasm like the realms, but tainted with their individual torments, the fierce glee, the desire to burn, it all churned into an ambient ectoplasm Danny swore he’d never seen in another city.

And that defiant spirit, the Gotham je ne sais quoi that made people put up with all the rogue attacks and dangers, was powerful too. Jason had known that even as a kid.

Now, it was literally the reason he was alive.

He might have a second core filling his system with pit water, but they’d both have dried up without the boundless “fuck off” energy Gotham was built on.

He’d felt it since the second he returned. He was alive in Gotham in a way he hadn’t been in Nanda Parbat, anywhere but the fucking pit. It let him think clearly.

Well.

Apparently Danny let him think clearly. That thought still stung. But it shouldn’t have surprised him.

He’d never been much of anything that other people didn’t make him.

It was why he didn’t really mind Clockwork trying to make him Danny’s knight within a couple hours of learning he was half dead. It was kinda what he did.

People had been using him as a weapon since he swung a tire iron at Batman himself. Protecting the guy who gave him his fucking soul back?

He’d have done that anyway, for free. And he got a kickass gun and a supernatural sense of when said asshole needed him. Honestly, easiest job of his life.

The catch would come eventually, but this whole “feeling the intent of people you talk to” thing left him way less suspicious than he still kinda felt he should be.

He’d rather that than be left nebulously owing his whole self to Danny with no way to repay him and no idea where the catch would come from.

It had just… never occurred to him that the same way Danny could reach out and find Vlad, he’d be able to find Cass. Or Jason himself, probably.

Jason hadn’t realised how tightly he’d wound himself until the pressure eased.

He sucked in a breath that seemed to fill his chest for the first time in hours, folded his arms forward onto the handlebars, and let his head rest against them.

Danny followed him down, never losing contact but his face slipping lower and lower down Jason’s back. It almost made him chuckle, imagining how they must have looked.

Actually, he did. Just a moment, a soft and almost giddy sound that he choked back immediately. He sounded… well. Not like himself.

He’d been itching since the girls left to patrol, wishing he could join them. Be Cass’s backup in the field and be sure she wasn’t going in on anything big alone.

Cass was a step beyond competent, she was exceptional and she’d been doing this for years without a shadow. On a regular day, she wouldn’t need help.

But hearing how close she was to losing her humanity and not coming back right no matter what had him on edge. He wanted to shield her, protect her from what he’d gone through.

It wasn’t that he wanted her out of the fight. The idea of asking her not to go out hadn’t even occurred to him. She could make her own choices and he’d back her with all he had.

He just absolutely fucking hated the idea that she was out there alone, while he had fucking nothing on him that’d let him go after her if she did need backup.

If she needed help, he’d have to waste time gearing up before he could go out after her. The other bats would have her back, they all would, so long as they weren’t busy too.

It wasn’t like he was anyone’s first choice for backup even now, he just.

Yeah. He might kinda get what Danny meant about his Obsession being protection. Protecting the bats was a recent addition, but Jason had burned himself out on enough missing kids since he got back to suspect.

He’d have to ask what an actual capital-letter Obsession felt like, but that would wait for another time.

Just knowing that Cass would be safe, had another pair of eyes and more powers than a Kryptonian watching her back made him feel like he could breathe again.

Even knowing that though, he was glad to have left the manor. He could take Danny home, suit up, and… wait.

Danny had no choice but to move back as he straightened, half moving to frown down at the smaller man.

“Is that why you wanted to leave?” He asked quietly, gauging Danny’s face.

Had Danny worked it out on his own? Felt him stressing out about his baby sister back in the field?

Did Danny know that Jason wanted to join her, if not necessarily which costume he wore, and cut his night short?

Would Danny do that for him?

The answer was obvious in the other man’s face as Danny shrugged, even before he spoke.

“I didn’t wanna put you on the spot, and I figured you’d rather get out of there,” he explained casually, leaning just a little into Jason. Enough to feel what warmth Danny had.

Jason hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say. If he should thank Danny. If Danny would ask, and if Jason should tell him he was the Red Hood now.

It’d be weirder the longer he didn’t mention it. Like he was keeping a secret.

The same secret Danny had kept as a teenager, so at least he’d probably understand, but Jason didn’t like how it felt. He wasn’t fucking ashamed of being the Red Hood.

He’d done shit no one else ever could have, and every inch of his territory was safer than it had ever been without him. He was proud of what he’d done, even if he wouldn’t brag about his methods.

It worked. It got him where he was today, where he didn’t need to kill anymore because people turned tail at the hint of his damn name.

He still didn’t know how Danny felt about killing. It wasn’t something that came up in conversation much. Maybe he’d find a way to ask first.

Tonight, he managed a stiff nod and leaned a little of his own weight back into Danny. Even if the guy thought he was just gonna go home and mope there instead, it was a win.

“Thanks,” he said softly, half wishing for his helmet’s voice modulator. He didn’t like hearing his own voice sound so… vulnerable.

Danny, fucking angel of mercy that he was, chuckled softly and gave him a gentle tap upside the head.

“Yeah, well. Also wasn’t sure how the others would react to “99% of you are permanently on my radar” anyway, and I wanted to make sure you knew for Cass,” he explained cheerfully.

And yeah, Jason still hadn’t really processed that yet, and wasn’t even sure how he’d react. Smart fucking call on Danny’s part.

Chuckling under his breath, Jason shook his head and flipped the kickstand back up.

“Anything else before I take you to bed?” He asked, half teasing Danny’s own unfortunate choice of words earlier.

They were absolutely still fucking with his family to think this was some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe a bit to punish Bruce, who clearly couldn’t handle the idea of Jason happy.

Danny laughed, a hint of something Jason almost identified behind it, then settled himself more firmly against Jason’s back, hanging on properly again.

“Not a damn thing. Oh, are you gonna come pick me up tomorrow or do I make my own way to the manor to join you and Harley?” He asked, snugged up tight.

Jason had almost forgotten that was happening. Apparently. And suddenly he was glad for at least the motorcycle helmet as his cheeks flushed pink.

Fuck he’d say he was trailing after Danny like a puppy, except Danny was the one going where Jason needed to be.

Another excuse to get Danny on his bike, arms around him.

Fuck off, Jason Todd Romance Heroine. It was a goddamn jailbreak, if a legal one. Not a fucking meet cute.

“If you actually want to come,” he agreed a little hesitantly, because the voice that insisted he was just a burden and Danny was only humouring him wasn’t all displacement activity after all.

Or pit related, apparently. Delightful.

He coulda tried to pretend it was, but that had been more convincing back when it was always a background grumble of anger, not the little calm pool of happiness now sitting in his gut.

Unforeseen side effect of getting his toxic sludge cleaned up: he was gonna have to own some of his own bullshit now. Work out what was his and what wasn’t.

Danny leaned back a little, grip loosening, and Jason could feel concern like a whisper soft touch.

“Yeah… I would, if you don’t mind? It seems like he’s important to you.”

Jason wasted a moment trying to work out what the hell Danny meant by that.

Did he want to meet Croc cuz he was important to Jason? Or did he think Jason wouldn’t want him to if he was important?

Cuz while yeah, Jason considered Waylon a friend (and thanks, Harley, for the new name crisis, love that. The guy introduced himself as Killer Croc but Jason knew all about controlling a narrative) it wasn’t like he was family. Not like Dick, Cass, or the others.

Except. Roy was family. Long before any of the bats made it back into Jason’s good books, Roy was one of the first people to be happy Jason was alive.

And Waylon had helped Roy get help when Ollie fucking kicked him out.

Waylon had been a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder too, in the bad old days. Keeping him from pushing too hard, going too big, doing something he really couldn’t come back from.

Family didn’t have to mean annoying texts at four AM. Didn’t have to come around for dinner every Sunday; how often did any of them really see Harley?

Fuck, how often would they have seen each other if Alfred didn’t have them all firmly under his culinary thumb.

Waylon had to count as a reliable old uncle at least.

And that kinda made it a different question. Did Jason want Danny to meet his family?

It had been an easy “yes” with the bats, not least because the nosy bastards would muscle their way in regardless. Croc…

Waylon never judged Jason. From his highest highs to lowest lows, he never looked down on him. Not even when he was telling Jason to stop and think.

It kinda made Jason ache for what his life should have been. His, and Waylon’s if he’d never been called Killer Croc.

And maybe it’d give Jason a read on how Danny would react to the Red Hood thing. Or whether or not Danny already knew.

——————

Ah, the darker sides of this story back again. We’ll get to Waylon himself next chapter (I hope), and in the mean time dear Jason has some baby angst and Bruce will only confuse things further

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna

#danny fenton dead and loving it #wip wednesday #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton x jason todd #dead on main ship #chapter 11 #never make a promise you can’t keep #lots of angst today #not the deepest but lots for me

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kingpreciouswrld · 1 year

Note

soo i’m testing your miranda one shot where the reader comes home after some time away and i was thinking something like that with gwendoline??? gwen has been gone shooting for a new movie or show and tells reader that she won’t be home for a another week or so but ends up coming home earlier as a surprise

pairing: Gwendoline Christie x Reader

word count: 578

A/N: Sorry it's so short, I tried! This was actually a great idea, I'm surprised that I didn't think of it!!

It was rare that Gwen was away from home for so long, but for shooting the show Wednesday, she was shooting for 8 months in Romania. You could've gone with her but you had other obligations that kept you at home.

You guys kept in touch everyday, calling each other or texting each other what's happening. You'd always get picture texts from Gwen in her outfits and you had to say that you absolutely loved the Larissa Weems fits.

The time difference made calls hard but you'd stay up as late as it would take to hear and see Gwen. She was your light and you wouldn't miss the call for the world.

It was down to the wire when you guys started talking about being back together. You had so many things to show Gwen and you were excited to finally be in her arms again. Little did you know, Gwen was set on surprising you at home.

The next day, you called Gwen at the usual time,

"So when does your flight come in next week?"

"I'm so sorry love but Tim wants me to stay a bit longer to reshoot some scenes with Christina. Jenna got COVID so we have done extra time for redos."

You frowned, one, because Gwen wouldn't be home until later but two, because she was exposed to COVID and could get sick herself, "Is Jenna okay? Poor girl."

"Jenna will be okay darling, they're taking precautions and she's taken care of," Gwen covered her mouth piece and said thank you to her assistant who took her suitcase off of the conveyor belt.

"Okay well…how're things going over there? Was it fun in Romania? It definitely looks beautiful."

Gwen had muted herself as she got into her cab and unmuted herself when you finished rambling, "Oh it's just amazing here darling, we should really come here together one day. You would like it here."

You hummed as you say down on the couch,"I would, wouldn't I? Also, I really love your Larissa outfits, do you think you could take some home?" You asked shyly.

Gwen smirked, "You like Larissa, hm? Well I'll see what I can do love, okay?"

Your stomach tingled and your toes unintentionally curled at the thought of having Gwen as Principle Weems at home, "Yes babe, thank you!"

"Of course baby doll," the older woman chuckled. She muted herself again as the cab stopped in front of the house. She got out her suitcases and walked up to the front door, "Darling, there should be a package at the front door, do you think you could bring it inside for me?"

You hummed and got off the couch, "Yeah, I can go grab it real quick. What did you get?"

Gwen covered the peep hole with her hand, just in case you looked. You didn't. You opened the door to find Gwen in her lounge wear, looking exhausted but happy to see you.

"Gwen!"

You squealed in surprise before jumping into her arms. You clung to her like a koala and Gwen laughed as she one handedly moved her suitcases inside. You started kissing her neck, your hand tangled in her hair. Gwen chuckled and hummed, "Don't start anything you can't finish bunny."

You blushed and stopped kissing her neck but pulled back and gave her a soft kiss to her lips, Gwen met you halfway and kissed you back.

"Mmm what a welcome home indeed."

#gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 7 months

Text

Code Words | Set-up

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 5109

Someone knocks on Roman's door.

Someone knocks on Janus's door.

Someone knocks on Roman's door.

He frowns, getting up slowly and edging over. Logan didn't text and say he was going to stop by, he can't imagine Janus coming over without giving him a heads-up, and no one else would likely be willing to come near him right now. It's not like he's been giving his so-called 'friends' opportunities to see him, not since he—well. Not since.

So, it's with a healthy amount of trepidation that he approaches the door, something that's only rewarded when he peers through the peephole to see who, in fact, just knocked on his door.

His eyes widen.

Slowly, with every intention of making up something as soon as he finishes, he turns the doorknob and hesitantly cracks it just wide enough to peer out at the most high-ranking agent he's ever seen in real life.

"Roman," Director fucking Virgil says, smiling at him, "would you take a walk with me?"

"Um—sure. Yeah, uh—can I have a second?"

"Take your time."

"Thanks."

In a daze, Roman shuts the door. Nope, that definitely did just happen. He was just asked to go somewhere with the fucking Director. Okay. This is fine. He can deal with this. This definitely isn't going to end badly in any way, shape, or form. He's going to go for this walk and it's going to be fine and then he's going to come back here and scream into a pillow. Yeah.

That's it.

Belatedly, he realizes he's keeping the Director waiting and scrambles to shove his phone, his ID card, and his wallet into his pockets before stuffing his feet into his boots and opening the door again.

"Sorry."

The Director waves him off, still smiling. He gestures down the hall and Roman nods, shutting his door with a click behind him as he follows. The Director slows down so Roman can walk next to him and this really isn't helping his whole 'not going outside to avoid literally everyone staring' thing, but when the Director asks you to go on a walk, you take the fucking walk.

They don't go to another one of the conference rooms or even up the elevator to one of the fancy-schmancy offices that Roman's afraid to look at wrong. Instead, they arrive at one of the atriums and walk down the main stairs to the front door. He scurries over to hold the door as they walk outside, wincing a moment later at the glare of the sunlight. The weather has just started to turn warm again, the breeze still blowing like it wants to rip his jacket off but the sun at least is a little warmer.

The Director leads them over to a small bench in the corner of one of the less-traveled courtyards, sitting down and stretching out as though they're friends who sit on benches and talk to each other. When Roman hovers nervously for a few more seconds, he looks up and huffs, patting the bench. Roman sits down hastily.

"You're not in trouble," the Director says quietly, "I'm not here to scold you or reprimand you. You can relax, kid."

Yeah, uh-huh. Let me just go ahead and do that.

Judging by his chuckle, he may as well have said that out loud for the Director to hear. "Seriously. I don't bite, I swear."

"Only on Wednesdays, right?"

Before he can bite his tongue for being mouthy at the Director, said Director is laughing again. A proper laugh. He lightly taps Roman's shoulder in the adult get-a-load-of-this-kid-but-positive way, at least that's what Roman's going to interpret it as. "No, kid. Patton's made sure I'm thoroughly de-fanged."

Patton. Patton went to the Director. Patton went to the fucking Director, is the Director here about me?

Yeah, no shit, dumbass, why do you think you're out here?

"Sorry," he mumbles a moment later, "I didn't mean to…space out."

"Space as much as you want." He stretches out a bit further, tipping his head back. "I dragged you out here because apparently, the big ass windows in my office don't give me enough sunlight."

Roman sneaks a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the Director looks like—well, he looks like every other recruit after too long of sitting in the training rooms rediscovering the wonders of being outside. A laugh bubbles up in his throat before he can stop it. The Director cracks an eye open and smiles back at him. After another moment, he sits up with a grunt and mirrors Roman's position: elbows on knees, hands folded.

"What would you like to see happen?"

Roman blinks. "Huh?"

"With everything going on," the Director asks, still in that same really casual tone, "what would you like to see happen? What's your ideal outcome for this?"

Wow, no fucking pressure or anything. Real light question to start us off with, why don't you?

"I, um—"

"It doesn't have to be extensive," the Director says when he splutters, "or it can be as ridiculous as you want. You could say you want to shoot them into space or have the cafeteria exclusively serve Arby's curly fries."

"Does anyone even go to Arby's anymore?"

"We can't fix bad taste."

Roman snorts. He fiddles with the callus on his thumb. "Can I—sorry, can I think about it for a second?"

"Take your time." The Director leans back on the bench. "I'll be here enjoying the sun."

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. What does he want to happen? Well, really, he wants all of this never to have happened in the first place. But he doesn't exactly have a time machine, and unless the Agency is really lying about what the fuck they can do, he doesn't think the Director has access to one either.

He wants the person who did this to him, to Janus, to never have the power to do so again. But he doesn't want them killed—or does he?

They'd definitely never hurt anyone ever again. They'd be out of the Agency. Out of his life. Out of Janus's life too. And they almost killed both of them with their negligence—something like that is punishable by normal standards, not just Agency standards. Let them know what it's like to be powerless, what it's like to be so, so fucking afraid for their existence, let them know what it's like to—to—

"Hey."

There's a hand on his arm and he realizes he's shaking. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to stop, glancing over to see the Director looking at him with concern. "Sorry."

The Director shakes his head, sitting up and still looking at him like that. "You wanna talk about it?"

Do I want to admit I was just fantasizing about killing someone? No, not really. "Um…I was—well, I thought that I really want all of this not to have happened in the first place, but we don't really have a time machine, so…"

He narrows his eyes.

"Do we have a time machine?"

"Believe me, it would make things simpler and infinitely more complicated, so no, we don't."

"Then I was thinking that—" No. No, he can't say this to the fucking Director, can he?

"You can say it, Roman," the Director reassures, "nothing leaves us right now. I'm not gonna hold anything you say here against you."

"I was thinking if they were dead," he whispers.

Immediately, he expects the Director to pull away. To say something like well, that's one way of looking at it, or we don't kill our own, which has he been fucking paying attention, does he know how much danger Roman's been in?

"And what if they were?"

His head jerks up. The Director still looks at him the same way he did before. The hand hasn't left his arm.

"What if they were dead," he asks again, "what then?"

"They—they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again. They'd be gone. I wouldn't have to worry about them coming back, or hurting someone again, or—or—they would just be gone."

The Director nods. He still isn't pulling away. Even though Roman's admitting he wants to kill someone just for hurting him.

"But—"

"But?" comes the gentle prompt a moment later.

Roman takes a deep breath. "But I don't want—that's not—I don't—I don't want to live in a place governed by my worst impulses, you know?"

"That's a very brave thing to say."

He can't help it, he scoffs. "I'm not brave."

"No? Why not?"

"I'm scared all the time," he hisses, glancing around, "I'm—I can't leave my room. I can't talk to anyone without making sure they're exactly who they say they are. I can't sleep. I can't—I can't do anything. I can't even say I want something bad to happen to the person who hurt me. How the fuck am I brave?"

The Director hums, the hand on his shoulder making small circles. Before the shame at his outburst can really sink in, the Director sighs.

"Roman, you're brave because you're scared and you're doing all of this anyway."

"Courage isn't the absence of fear but doing things despite it," he drones automatically, only for the hand on his shoulder to squeeze.

"I'm serious. Do you know how many agents we lose every year to PTSD and other factors? Every month? Every week?" He looks up to see the Director staring at him. "It's not an insignificant amount, Roman. This job is hard. It fucks us all up. You're not a coward for being afraid and you definitely aren't one for what's happened to you."

"O-oh."

"You sitting here telling me you don't know what to do is brave. You being out here with me is brave. You sitting in that meeting telling them what happened to you is brave," the Director says, looking at him with a stunning amount of determination. "And telling me you don't want to live somewhere governed by your worst impulses is brave too."

A lump forms in Roman's throat. That's rude. He's not trying to cry in front of the Director.

"Believe me," he continues, his voice lowering the slightest bit, "I don't blame you for wanting whoever did this to you dead. I really don't. I also don't blame you for not wanting them dead. This isn't a test, Roman. I'm not fishing for the right answer. I'm asking you, because it seems like no one's done that for you in a long time. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. Yes, yes, I—I get it."

"Alright."

"Can I—sorry, I just—"

"Take your time," the Director says again, still full of some bottomless patience, rubbing Roman's shoulder as he stifles a few sobs. "You're alright, kid. You're gonna be alright."

"I know." He sniffles one last time and sits up a bit straighter. "I don't want them to die. I just want to make sure they can't hurt anyone like this ever again."

"That sounds like a very reasonable thing to want."

"And there needs—there needs to be a check of some sort. Someone else needs to make sure anyone sent out into the field knows everything. Code phrases, safety points, if there are any other agents there to support them. It doesn't have to be everything, but it has to be something."

The Director nods. God, Roman is telling the Director how to run a fucking mission and the Director is listening.

"A-and we can't—" he swallows heavily— "we can't let Security have tazers anymore."

He raises an eyebrow. "No? Why no tazers?"

"Because they really hurt and they don't actually do enough to stop someone if they really want something."

It surprises a laugh out of him at any rate. He nods a few times, mulling the words over. "Alright. No tazers, then."

"Why are you here?" Roman pulls back a little bit. "Is this really big enough for you to be here?"

"Officially, yes. One of the most in-depth undercover operations was almost ruined because someone wasn't briefed properly, resulting in the traumatization and risk of two of my agents, and it happened on my watch. Unofficially—" and here he leans a bit closer again— "a good friend of mine burst into my office and told me to get my ass in gear."

"Good friend—wait, Patton?"

"That's the one."

"Patton," Roman repeats, "the guy who had a baby blue notebook and those big glasses, the guy who took notes with a pink and white striped pen, that guy."

"Yeah. That guy."

"I don't—I don't wanna think about that too much."

"I don't blame you," he chuckles, "he's—well. He's something."

"Uh-huh. Logan knows him too—wait, does that mean he's yelled at Logan to get his ass in gear?"

"Probably."

"That's…oddly comforting."

The Director pats his shoulder again. "I can't promise you anything. But this will be dealt with, that I can assure you. We'll do our best to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

"I need to talk to Janus," he blurts out.

"Janus?"

"Yeah. We—I promised. He needs to know too. It happened to him too."

"And if he thinks something different should happen?"

Roman shrugs. "Then we talk about it."

The Director stands up, adjusting his coat. He smiles at Roman again and—the Director just ruffled his hair. This is fine. This is totally fine. "You've got a good head on your shoulders."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and one more thing," he says as he turns to go, looking back over his shoulder, "and you can tell Janus this too: if anyone gives you a hard time about what happened, you send them straight to my office, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Enjoy the sunshine, kid."

Roman tips his head back and lets the warmth brush across his face.

***

Janus opens the door and blinks. "Director Virgil. Can I help you?"

"I've been reliably informed that there's no one else who can help me put this away," Director Virgil says, holding up a small bottle of Janus's favorite liquor—so Patton did raid his locker, good to know— "interested?"

"I've been instructed not to mix alcohol and painkillers."

"I won't tell if you won't."

Janus allows himself a small smile and lets him in, gesturing to the small round table and quickly fixing them both two glasses of water and grabbing two empty glasses. He sets them on the table as Director Virgil takes off his jacket. Two fingers in each glass and one's slid over to him as he sits down.

"What should we drink to, Director?"

"Oh, I don't know." The Director swirls the drink around the glass. "How about…the fact that we're both still alive?"

Janus holds up his glass, they toast, and takes a small sip. The burn is familiar and he just manages to stifle a wince.

"Rough night?"

He allows himself a self-deprecating chuckle. "Remus still hits hard if I'm not paying attention. He apologized with another bottle of that stuff."

"So it's not from the mission."

Out of sight, his hand twitches. "No, Director. I didn't sustain any major injuries and I've been cleared by Psych."

"That's what Patton said too."

Ah. "Is that all Patton said?"

Director Virgil hisses lightly as he sets down the glass. "He said there was an urgent matter that required my attention, and that I should get my ass in gear about it."

"Verbatim?"

"In spirit."

Janus sets his glass down and sits up a little more. "Are you expecting a recounting from me as well?"

"No. I'm here to ask you what you'd like to see happen as this investigation moves forward."

"You should be asking Roman."

"Why? Weren't you affected by this just as much, if not more, than he was? You were entrenched deeply into the gang's structure well before he was even brought on, surely I don't have to tell you what they do with traitors."

Under the table, he makes a fist. "I'm not the one who was tortured by someone who was supposed to be on his side. I'm not the one who has trouble sleeping because he can't trust the walls around him. I'm not the one whose first big mission was set up to fail from the start."

"From the start…" He tilts his head. "You think it was done on purpose?"

"Roman's mission was as my safety. I've run safeties before. I was briefed so thoroughly I could probably tell you what those code phrases were. And he didn't know a single one—he didn't even know he was a safety. That means either the person who briefed him didn't tell him, or whoever briefed them omitted it. Regardless, someone knew that he was supposed to be a safety and that information never got to him."

Director Virgil drums his fingers on the table. "Could it have been a mistake? They assumed he knew?"

"First mission. First safety. Gross incompetence is the worser of the two offenses, somehow."

"Mm." He takes another sip of the drink. "You've still not explained why you shouldn't have a say in all of this."

Janus doesn't say anything. He takes another drink.

"Could it be the same reason you're hissing through painkillers right now?"

Janus's head whips around, mouth already opening to spit a retort of some kind back, but the Director holds up his hand to forestall it.

"I've already made enough mistakes by letting this get as far as it has," he says, softly but with an undertone of steel, "I'm not gonna let another agent get hurt on my watch."

His jaw works. He looks away. He looks down at his hand, trembling slightly under the table. He reaches for the glass of water and takes a long drink. "It's my fault. It happened on my watch."

"As I'm sure Remus has told you, you didn't exactly have many options."

"I know how nerve-wracking safety missions are."

"And you know how precarious undercover missions are."

"He's a good kid," Janus whispers, his voice thick, "he's such a good kid."

"Yes, he is. He's a good kid who made sure I knew he wanted to come talk to you before I did anything else."

Janus looks over. Director Virgil offers him a rueful smile and shrugs, taking another drink from the liquor glass. "He did what?"

"That surprises you?"

"No, not really, I just…"

"You said you'd give him time to be alright with you, is that right?" Janus nods. "I think the thing is, Janus, he's perfectly alright with you, the agent who also got fucked over in all this bullshit."

"But I'm also the one that hurt him."

"You think he's smart enough to know the difference between the person who fucked up his briefing and you, the agent trying to do his job?" Director Virgil spreads his hands. "He told Patton he didn't think you should be punished, didn't he?"

"Yeah, well, he's a good kid."

He chuckles. "You sound like you resent him for that."

"Good kids don't last here, you know that. They get fucked up or killed or—" he slugs back the rest of the liquor— "or they turn into us."

"Mm, fates worse than death indeed." He sits forward, folding his hands on the table. "I thought about that. But really, you know what's happened to Roman right now?"

"I was there for most of it, yeah, I know."

"That's just about the worst thing I can think of happening to a new agent, especially on their first safety mission, and yet after that, he's still doing things like vouching for you and trying to be a kind person."

"So?"

"So, I think he's made of stronger stuff than anyone's given him credit for."

Janus toys with the empty glass. "He always has been."

"So maybe he's gonna be alright for right now," Director Virgil continues, his voice softening the slightest bit, "and maybe he's got someone else to look after him for a moment."

"Yeah."

"And maybe you can swallow your pride and acknowledge that this fucked you up too."

Janus snorts. He sets the empty glass on the table and Director Virgil pours him another two fingers. "You really want to know what I want to happen next?"

"Mhm."

"Strip whoever it was of their Agency protection and let them go. Turn them over to the State if you have to. Get them out of here, get them away from the Agency. Lock them in a cell, throw the key in a hole, and throw away the hole."

He doesn't look phased. "But don't kill them?"

"Why, is that what you expected me to say?"

"No, but Roman brought it up." When Janus's glass hits the table with a thunk, Director Virgil chuckles. "Not a fan of that?"

"I mean, I can't say I blame him, but…"

"But?"

Janus lets out a long breath. "I don't think he's ever had to kill anyone before. I don't…I know I can't protect him, but I don't—that's not—"

He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly. Maybe he should've taken it easier with that first glass.

"I don't think he should have to deal with taking a life on top of everything else right now."

Director Virgil hums again. "He said he didn't want to live somewhere governed by his worst impulses."

"Shit, why is this kid here? He could be—fuck, he could be anywhere else, doing anything else and doing a great job of it."

"And yet he is here. Scared and worried, yeah, but he's here."

"He's better than most of them," Janus mutters into the glass of water, "he didn't deserve any of this."

"No, he didn't and neither did you." The Director leans across the table, taking the liquor glass away and replacing it with a file. Janus glances up at him before opening it, reading through the pages of Patton's transcribed notes. "Those just got finished, Roman hasn't seen them yet. My guess is he'll be by later, though, so you can show them to him then."

"You should send a copy his way so he knows beforehand."

"I should trust our messaging system to send something like this?"

Janus winces. "Okay, fair point."

"Logan's probably with him by now, he'll pass it along. Patton reached out to him and Remus to keep an eye on the both of you while this whole mess gets sorted out. You'll probably hear from him in the next few days or so, in case he needs anything else for the dossier."

"Dossier?"

Director Virgil gives him a look. "You didn't think something was being put together after all this happened?"

"Does Roman know about it?"

"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking, but he knows a case of evidence is being assembled. He also knows nothing's going to happen until the both of you agree on what it should be, which is why he's going to be here later today."

Janus flips the file shut and pushes it across the table, still nursing the glass of water. "You must have an opinion about all of this."

"I do."

"What is it?"

"Someone has sabotaged one of the riskiest undercover missions we've attempted in a long time, deliberately or otherwise. Two agents have been severely affected by it and the ramifications are Agency-wide," Director Virgil says drily, "what do you think my opinion is?"

"Do you want them dead?"

He smile darkens. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

He stands to leave, the bottle of liquor still on the table.

"When you and Roman have come to a consensus, come to my office. Sarah will know to expect you, she'll let you in."

"Yes, sir."

"And Janus?"

"Yeah?"

"If you think of any holes deep enough for your liking, send their locations my way too."

***

Roman knocks on Janus's door. A moment later, it opens and he stands a little taller. "Hi."

"Hey, sweetie. Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Janus opens the door a little wider and Roman slips inside, glancing around at the much-larger quarters that actually has a small kitchen, a separate bedroom and bathroom—damn. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Your rooms are really nice."

Janus huffs a laugh. "Well, they are when Remus isn't destroying them."

"Have you guys been friends for a long time?"

"Friends, not necessarily, but he's been a pain in my ass since our first year of training." Janus sits down at the small dining table with a grunt. "Friendship came after we realized we'd become the world's greatest enemies if we didn't learn how to get along."

Roman snorts. "Yeah, I get that."

He glances over to see Janus sliding a file across the table to him, holding one hand to his ribs. "Patton's notes, freshly transcribed. They weren't ready this morning, so—"

"So the Director came to see you too?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Did he also ask you what you want to happen next?" Janus nods and Roman sighs, sitting down and pulling the file towards him. "Did he also hit you really hard or something?"

"This? No, that was Remus and I discovering I can't quite spar with the recklessness I used to."

"Logan tells me that too."

"Aren't you a little young to be getting the you're-not-as-young-as-you-used-to-be speeches?"

"I'm too old for the 'you're not invulnerable' speeches, apparently." Roman flips a page. "Though I think I figured that out for myself, thank you very much."

He reads in silence for a moment, just taking in Patton's notes. They're—well, they're not great, but they're true, so that's gotta count for something. He's seen more in this one eval than he has in literally all his time spent training, though, so that's fun too.

"What did you say?"

"Hm?"

"When the Director asked you, what did you say?"

"I said they should be stripped of their Agency rights and turned loose or locked away."

"That's kinda what I said too."

"What did you say," he says, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"Basically I was like 'I want to make sure this never happens again.' I asked for, like, a check or something by someone else who isn't the main briefing agent. To confirm that the agent being sent out knows the important stuff, knows the code words, or something. A safety for the safety."

Janus nods. "That's—I didn't think of that."

Of course you fucking didn't, but he bites his tongue. "And I said I want that person to go away."

"On that," Janus grunts, sitting up a little straighter, "we can agree in earnest."

"And no tazers."

It startles a laugh out of him, one he immediately tries to apologize for and cover-up. "Sorry, sorry. That's…um, can I ask why?"

"Because they hurt, for one, and two, they don't really stop someone." At Janus's obvious disbelief, he shrugs. "I stopped mainly because I was confused. If I wanted to, I could've pushed through it."

"Those aren't light weapons, Roman, they're designed to do some damage."

"Yeah, well, I've gotten pretty good at working with damage."

Janus winces and Roman feels a pang of regret. "I am sorry, sweetie."

"I know. I'm—I don't mean to keep throwing it back in your face."

"Throw all you want," he says, waving a hand, "it's your right to."

"But that's not fair to you, you're supposed to be healing from this as well. And how can you start doing that if I'm still making a point of how fucked up I am?" Roman glares at the table like it'll have all the answers. "I don't—if me being upset is making you have a harder time dealing with it, then—"

"Sweetie, stop." Janus leans across the table, one hand outstretched. "You need to worry about yourself and yourself alone. I—as much as I hate to say it, I do know how to deal with myself when I'm like this. You don't have to deal with my problems and yours."

"Your problems are my problems. Partners, remember?"

He stares Janus down until the other agent cracks a small smile. "Partners, right."

There's quiet for a moment. Roman toys with the piece of paper on the table. Patton's notes about residual trust issues and PTSD start to blur as he stares at the words long enough for them to resemble meaningless squiggles rather than letters.

"Do you think it was deliberate?"

Janus looks over from where he was looking out of the window. "Do I what?"

"Them fucking up my briefing. Fucking up your safety. Do you think it was deliberate?"

He leans back with a sigh, rubbing his fingers together. "I think it would explain a lot, yeah. I mean—I'm not thrilled at the idea of deliberate sabotage, but honestly, I think it's better than the alternative."

Roman frowns. "How is that better than the alternative?"

"If it was deliberate sabotage, that means someone knew that you were supposed to be my safety, they knew this was going to be a joint mission, and they knew you were supposed to be given code phrases. That means they made a choice, a specific choice, not to tell you."

Roman nods, unsure of where exactly Janus is going with this.

"If this isn't deliberate, that means either someone forgot to tell the person who was briefing you, or someone forgot to tell them, and so on and so on until we get all the way back to the people who assigned my mission and planned it in the first place. That's a lot more people to worry about and a lot more information that fell out of the pipeline somewhere between my handlers and yours. Which would you rather deal with: one bad actor who chose to risk both of us, or a handful of people who couldn't check and verify?"

Roman winces. "Yeah, you're right. The first one. 'Cause then you know once you get rid of them, everything else is fine."

"Of course, that does present the problem of how such a bad actor got into a position like that in the first place, which presents its own list of problems, but…"

"But we know how to deal with those." Roman looks at him. "Because that's what we do."

Janus looks at him and smiles. "That's right, sweetie. That's what we do."

"I think I know how I want to proceed. Do you?"

"I've got a few ideas."

***

They walk up to Virgil's office together. Sarah gives them a smile and buzzes them in. Virgil looks up from behind his desk.

"Hello agents," he greets as they sit down, "so. What have you got for me?"

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Over The Odds | 134340

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, S2L, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 1.3k

Drabble 7 - You call Jungkook on your lunch break

warnings: swearing, heartfelt fluff

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

“Hi, I’m just calling to make a payment please? Yeah it’s Y/N, account number… Sure it’s, 134340.”

“I’ll just pop you on a brief hold while I load your account.”

“Okay thanks.”

It’s Wednesday, you’re on your lunch break at work and figured you should pay off as much of your credit card debt as possible while you’ve still got a positive bank balance, you expect Jungkook won’t be sending you any more money in the future – not that you’re complaining obviously, you’d rather him be your boyfriend than your sugar daddy any day of the week. Jungkook is your boyfriend, your actual boyfriend, your partner, your lover… It’s only been two weeks since you made it official but you catch yourself smiling in the staff room mirror at the thought of him. You cringe. So this is what it feels like to be happy, to be loved.

“Y/N?” The male customer service representative comes back on the line.

“Mhm.” You try not to choke on the pineapple chunks you’re eating for lunch, swallowing them quickly, “Hello?”

“Hi… Can I get that account number again please?”

“134340.” You repeat, double checking the notes in your phone to make sure that’s right, which it is.

“One moment please.” The cheesy hold music comes back, but you’re in too much of a good mood to really notice.

You don’t particularly like your job, you’re a waitress in a small café a short walking distance from your apartment, you’ve been here for almost three years now – it’s not quite what you had in mind when you graduated business school. Back then you thought you would’ve had your own company by now, dreaming of the day you’d finally become a CEO of something important, but life just hasn’t worked out that way for you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, hello.” You take a sip of water, fixing your makeup in the mirror in front of you.

“That account is closed.”

“What?” You frown, that account has a balance of nearly eight grand it’s definitely not closed. “No there has to be a mistake, the last time I made a payment I was told the balance was seven thousand and something, that was like three weeks ago?”

The man clears his throat, “I can see the account was paid off in full two days ago Miss.”

“What? But I haven’t made a payment in weeks.” You’re so beyond confused right now, you even take him off speaker phone and hold the device next to your ear to make sure you’re hearing this right.

“The balance of seven thousand, eight hundred and ninety four pounds exactly was paid directly to us two days ago… By a Mister Jeon.”

That bastard.

“Uh, okay… So I don’t owe you guys anything?”

“Not as of two days ago Miss. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

“No that’s it thank you, have a nice day.” You end the call abruptly, scrolling your contacts with a deep frown until you find Jungkook’s name.

The line rings three times before he answers, his tone is sweet and chirpy. You have exactly five minutes left on your lunch break and so you need to make this quick.

“Hey baby, what’s up are you okay?”

“Is there something you wanna tell me?” You sound pissed, but in reality you’re smiling like an idiot at his pet name for you, carefully watching the clock.

“Uhh…” He clicks his tongue, you can practically hear the confused expression he’s no doubt wearing, “Did I forget something? It’s not your birthday for a few months is it?”

“No it’s not my birthday,” You silently chuckle, “Try again.”

“Mmm… Gonna need a bit more information than that Y/N. Have I done something wrong?” He sounds worried and your chest swells, fuck, he’s so considerate and caring. “Is this about you meeting my parents? Because we don’t fly out til Sunday and my mom’s really looking forward to it so please don’t be worried, I’ve already told you they’re gonna love you.”

“Nope, this has nothing to do with us going to Korea.”

There’s a brief pause, you can only imagine the look on his face right now as he’s trying to figure out why you’re calling him, “Ah, this is about Friday, when we get back from Seoul.” He sounds proud as a realisation hits him.

“What’s happening on the Friday we get back from Seoul?” It’s your turn to be confused.

“…We’re having dinner with your parents? Your mom emailed the business for my personal number since you wouldn’t give it to her. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” He’s laughing now, you hear his office chair squeak when he must’ve leaned back.

“Oh.” You’re embarrassed, vaguely recalling a conversation with her where she did mention something about that, at the time you’d thought she was joking but apparently not. “Thank you both for letting me know, but no it’s not about my parents either.”

“Come on I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m sorry.”

“You will be when I see you.” You scoff.

“Is it that bad? What did I do?” Though he sounds amused you know for a fact he’s sitting in his office in total panic mode – ever since making things official he’s constantly worried that he’s not being a good boyfriend, which only makes you fall for him even harder.

“So I just tried to make a payment on my credit card bill.” You tut, and the correct realisation hits him like a tonne of bricks.

“Ah…” You can hear his breathy chuckle through the phone, “How’d that go?”

“I’m your girlfriend now, you can’t just go around paying my debts without telling me. I was going to pay it off today anyways.”

“Well now you don’t need to.” You’re certain one of his brows are raised, his cockiness is so obvious even over the phone that you roll your eyes.

“Jungkook.” You warn him, noticing you’ve only got one minute left on your lunch break.

“Yes?” He’s so painfully smug.

“I’m serious! Why did you do that? You didn’t have to, and you shouldn’t have done it.” You’re trying to sound stern but you’re grinning like an idiot, it’s a good job he can’t see you right now.

“I did it because I wanted to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your sugar baby.” You remind him, mentally preparing yourself for the rest of your shift.

“Exactly. You’re my girlfriend, what’s mine is yours baby.”

“I gotta go to work,” You chew your lower lip to stifle a giggle, “But this isn’t over!”

“No, I didn’t think it would be.” He’s laughing again, the sound alone gives you butterflies, “You should probably know that I paid off your student loans and catalogues too, I think you’re officially debt free now.”

“Jungkook!” Your mouth falls open in shock as you frown, that’s a lot of money. Well it is to you, evidently not for someone like him. “No Kook that’s too much, why have you done that?!”

“Because I wanted to, now you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Yeah well you shouldn’t have… We’ll talk about this properly later and work out how to get your money refunded.” You stand up, smoothing out your pink apron, “Ugh I can’t believe you! I’m gonna kill you when I next see you.”

You can hear him grinning, “It’s a date.”

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distant-velleity · 3 months

Text

A Fair Price (Vol. 0)

Summary: Apparently, Azul's definition of "wrapping up" certain loose threads involves extended torture. Of Davis in particular. Word count: 1.1k+ Warnings: none, I think A/N: HELLO EVERYONE. I'm not done with my OC/Canon tomfoolery and you are not done having to see it. This was honestly supposed to be a joke but I think I got a little too invested and now this is like crack taken seriously..................... Anyway, this is the first of a few planned parts, so please let me know if you want to see more and I will probably get it written within the rest of the school year! Hopefully!! :,)))

Vol. 0 || Vol. 1 || Vol. 2

(Day 0 - Wednesday.)

It all starts after winter break, with little more than a conversation.

(Really, it’d started with the anemones following midterms and the ensuing incident—but that would be water under the bridge eventually. Just not today.)

Azul approaches Davis one day at lunch, finding his usual spot on a bench in the courtyard. “Here you are.”

Davis looks up from his phone and forgotten, half-finished sandwich. His eyes narrow. “…Azul? Do you need something?”

It’s not like 2-B and 2-C have had any joint classes recently… or any time soon…

“Well,” Azul says pleasantly, as if choosing not to acknowledge the other’s rightful wariness, “I hear that you’ve been rather sullen ever since before the break, especially regarding me, which could only relate to one thing. And seeing as I’d rather wrap up some loose threads sooner than later…”

It’s difficult, resisting the urge to scoff, but Davis manages to do just that and keeps a relatively straight expression.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s a little hard to not be, in your words, ‘sullen’ after seeing your treatment of student-workers.”

To Davis’ immense disappointment, Azul takes the seat next to him with a sigh. “If it pleases you, Yu has already lectured me on the severity of my actions. I’ve been taking it to heart and treating them more justly.”

“Uh-huh. Do you need to hear it from another mouth to really get it?” Davis isn’t angry, just… riled up in a tired sort of way. His phone burns like phantom pain with the weight of various victim accounts in it. “I don’t need you to please me. Rather—has anyone actually been holding you accountable for any of this?”

“Plenty,” mutters Azul under his breath with an unrecognizable tone, before adjusting his glasses. “I’ve given remuneration to many students who were physically harmed by the twins, as well as met several of my own students’ demands.” There’s a glint to the frames as they catch the light. “I’m genuinely curious—what else would you like to propose I do?”

That gives Davis pause, although not for the expected reason. It’s because—

(“What do ya think we should do?” Jacques asked.

Davis’ eyes widened. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Youse our only walkin’ mouth.” In a too-casual gesture Davis was getting used to, Jacques slung his arm over his shoulders. “The strike was your idea, no? So I gotta trust you to be the brains to my brawn.”

Davis scoffed in amusement, and Jacques grinned at him.)

—because of something that doesn’t really matter anymore, something he should have left behind when he left RSA. Really, his little grudge against Azul is also a remnant of baggage he should have abandoned a long time ago.

Still, Davis isn’t one to swallow his words at the first sign of being off-mark. “Does that really make up for all of it?” And just like that, an idea strikes him all of a sudden. “Come to think of it… how often do you work at the Mostro Lounge? I’m sure it’d satisfy a lot of people to see you doing the same work as them.”

Azul opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it and gently furrows his brows in a thoughtful look. His gaze flicks from Davis to the ground, then back again. “I find myself pleasantly surprised by the way you think,” he says finally with a smile, not elaborating on his own thought process. “If I allot some time every week for the next month or so to take a few shifts, then there could be unexpected benefits…”

“Really?” Davis raises an eyebrow—even though he can recall when Azul and the twins decided to take a shift at the Lounge post-Overblot, he’d assumed that was a one-time thing on the housewarden’s part. “I didn’t think you’d do more manual work than necessary.”

“Never let it be assumed that I don’t strive for self-improvement,” is Azul’s lofty reply.

“...Alright.”

Davis is more than ready to leave the conversation at that and return to his lunch, but something about the way Azul crosses his legs and props up his elbow on one knee disturbs him; if not the way that he rests his chin on his hand with a Look™ to his eyes. And true to form—

“Since this was your idea… how about you take some responsibility?” Azul suggests. “I’m sure the fair price of keeping me company until my ‘atonement’ tenure ends is acceptable.”

“Keeping you… company?” echoes Davis in disbelief. “Won’t there be some kind of catch to this? I thought you were over your contracts.”

Azul waves his other hand as if to dismiss that topic. “This isn’t a contract—merely an exchange of sorts.”

“I’m not working for free, I’ll have you know.”

“Rest assured, I’m not asking you to work. Goodness, you sure enjoy covering all your bases…” Azul shakes his head, somehow without losing even a fraction of his cordial yet opportunistic demeanor. “I just think it’d be in both our best interests for me to better acquaint myself with both a classmate and a member of the school newspaper.”

…Right. Leave it to Azul to remember something most people didn’t care about for him and then milk it as an opening to profit.

Of course, Davis had been lectured on the power of the press many a time before when he was still at RSA. Being the manager of a student-run business on campus, Azul would take to forming a solid connection with the newspaper staff like maybe a vulture to a carcass. But just as easily as he could advertise the Lounge, he could slowly weasel his way into controlling what goes into the paper…

“Hardly anyone reads the paper,” Davis mutters, still trying to get out of this half of the ‘exchange.’ “I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“While that was true in our freshman year,” Azul admits, “it’s thanks to your work that I’ve noticed many students actually read the online version or get their hands on the physical copy. Which is why I hadn’t seriously considered this option until now.”

Davis frowns. “Thanks for the flattery… But even if you want a collaboration, I usually don’t write articles—”

“That wouldn’t be a problem, we can find some way to make it work.”

Man, thinks Davis, I really can’t tell if it’s the universe or just Azul himself out to get me today.

Azul exhales and adjusts his glasses again. “Besides, we’re getting a bit sidetracked. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Right,” Davis concedes. He curses himself silently for getting carried away—this was, in part, his own idea and he should be willing to pay the price. Otherwise, he’d just be a hypocrite.

“So…” Azul extends his hand. “Are we in agreement?”

Davis looks down at it, many thoughts passing through his mind, and sighs. Finally, he reaches out to shake Azul’s hand in what feels like an admission of defeat. “Sure. But this is just for those guys who suffered under you.”

“Of course,” Azul replies; as much as Davis would like to think it’s in a condescending tone, that’s just his imagination.

#kai's writing #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #twst oc #davis jayme #runs away im always too shy to use big tags but how else do i organize my blog #'hes out to get you... for a date dawg' - niaa in my dms (<- correct and true)#i find it so funny that newsies is abt taking a stand and the exploitation of young laborers #and then im shipping davis with azul aka known capitalist #i mean to balance it i have daviruggie but . LOL

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spiderispunk · 2 years

Text

The Drifter

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Smut [18+]. Handjob. Fingering. Voyeurism (Bruce’s Contacts). Unprotected Sex. Canon-Typical Violence (Mentions of blood and bruises, briefest mention of attempted assault). Complicated Emotions (I like my vigilantes repressed).

Summary: The Batman– or as you would later come to find out Bruce fucking Wayne– came to check up on you later that week. That home visit turned into two, which turned into 10 which turned into many many over the course of the next two years. And the nature of the visits evolved as well. At first, a wellness check, then later something more personal. If you had to put a reason to it, Bruce was lonely. And as it turned out, so were you. It was a big city, after all.

A/N: Woooow did it feel great to write something for the first time in MONTHS. This was definitely a labor of love emphasis on the labor part. I’m ultimately really proud of it, and I hope you all enjoy. Leave a comment if you do!

Wednesday. June 22nd.

You’re lying in bed, eyes trained on your cracked ceiling.

It’s one of those typically dreary Gotham nights. Dark and cold and wet.

Outside a storm rages, sending unforgiving sheets of rain slamming against the dirty concrete. Thunder crashes, the loud booms rattling your windows. Lightning cuts across the sky like the silver flash of a knife.

Each BOOM!, each flare sets your teeth on edge. You’ve always hated thunderstorms– an irrational fear that’s stuck around from childhood– and Gotham seems to have its own perpetual cumulonimbus cloud parked squarely above the city limits.

You find it impossible to sleep on nights like these. When the heavens seem at war with the earth. Caught in a perpetual clash. Perhaps that’s why you don’t mind that these are the nights when Bruce tends to darken your doorstep the most.

You’ve come to appreciate the sporadic visits. They bring an odd sort of comfort and security that you never thought you’d find again in this godforsaken city. Gotham was a cesspool way past expiration, but it was your home. You never minded the grime, the dark back alleys and shady neighbors. Never clutched your pearls in fear when you read the news.

That was until you found yourself held up at gunpoint on your way home from work long ago on a rainy night just like this one. You’d handed your purse over without any argument and kept your head down, just like you’d been taught. The assholes had almost let you go too, until a whispered challenge from their leader had them surrounding you once more.

You closed your eyes and hoped whatever happened would be over quick, but it all ended before it even began. The next sound was the sickening crunch of a jaw as a blow connected with it. Standing over the ringleader was the Dark Knight himself. He pressed the heel of his boot against the guy’s swollen cheek, staring down the other men with hard eyes.

Without their leader, the gang ran.

You were still frozen, blood roaring in your ears as you looked him over. You knew the Batman helped people, but he’d also just broken a man’s jaw with one kick.

“You okay?” He asked in a voice you would eventually learn was not his own.

“Y-yeah,” you answered.

But of course you were not. You were cold and tired and riding off the high of waning adrenaline.

The Batman picked your purse up and handed it to you. It was soaking wet, but otherwise intact and full.

“Thanks.” You sloughed the water off. “Is he gonna be okay?” You glanced down at the unconscious man at your savior’s feet.

He regarded your attacker with a curled lip. “He’ll live,” he said coldly. “Is your home near here?”

“A couple blocks.” You said, though you absolutely should not have told this lethal stranger where you lived.

“I’ll walk you there.” He took off his cape and offered it to you. “This will keep you dry on the way.”

The Batman– or as you would later come to find out Bruce fucking Wayne– came to check up on you later that week. That home visit turned into two, which turned into 10 which turned into many many over the course of the next two years. And the nature of the visits evolved as well. At first, a wellness check, then later something more personal.

If you had to put a reason to it, Bruce was lonely. And as it turned out, so were you.

It was a big city, after all.

There’s a knock on your window. You barely hear it, so lost in your thoughts about the past. Then it happens again, the quiet tap-tap-tap of his knuckles against the glass of your bedroom window that signals his arrival. It’s a miracle you even notice it over the din outside.

He’s crouched on your fire escape, dressed in an oversized jacket and tactical pants. When he pulls back his hood, you can see he’s soaked to the bone. His dark hair is plastered to his face and the black makeup he wears around his eyes runs in streaks down his cheeks.

“Hi,” Bruce says simply. He doesn’t make a move to brush past you. Just sits in the rain, waiting for your invitation.

“Hi,” you whisper. “Come inside before somebody sees you and calls the cops.”

There’s a small smirk on his face. “What would Gotham’s Finest do?”

“Probably nothing.” You step to the side. “They’re too busy with the major crimes. Protecting us regular citizens is more your jurisdiction anyways.”

He grunts in agreement as he climbs through your window. His steel-toed boots hit the floor with a surprisingly light tread. It used to freak you out how quietly he moved, especially in all that armor, but now you’ve sectioned it off in another part of your brain labeled Top Secret Freaky Ninja Shit: Do Not Touch. The less you knew, the better. And Bruce made that clear from the very beginning.

He clears his throat, and you realize you’re still blocking his way into the room. So instead you step to the side and shut the window before any more rain can patter onto the floor. Not that it's of any use. Bruce seems to have brought the whole storm in with him.

“Did I wake you up?” He asks, leaning back against the window sill as he peels off his boots and socks.

You shake your head. “Can’t sleep with all of this.” You gesture vaguely, and on cue thunder booms. It sends a shiver through you.

He cracks a small smile. “Thunderstorms, huh?” Bruce shrugs his jacket off. “Who would have thought?”

“Not all of us can be fearless vigilantes.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t drop that on the floor!” You snap.

Bruce pauses mid motion. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly, and tosses the jacket back over his arm instead.

“You know where the bathroom is.” You cock your head towards the open door. “Think there might be an extra towel in there too.”

His eyes hold yours for a moment. There’s a touch of…something…soft in those pale blue eyes of his. “Thanks,” he says after a beat of silence and brushes past you.

Bruce peels his shirt off as he goes. Lean muscles stretching taut as his arms stretch above his head to rid himself of the damp cotton. The wet fabric slides up his back and shoulders, revealing a tapestry of injuries. Old ones sealed with jagged scar tissue. Yellowed half-healed bruises, and the most striking of all, fresh, angry red ones, already scabbing over from the night’s adventures.

Whatever he’d gotten into tonight has left him a little worse for wear.

Bruce hides the pain well, though. He doesn’t limp, doesn’t shudder. In fact, when he emerges from your tiny bedroom, he looks like an entirely new man.

His hair is sticking up in all different directions from the towel he hastily dried it with. Most of the paint has been wiped from his face–staining the once white towel he’s tossed onto the floor– but there’s residue left behind under his eyes. His porcelain skin still glistens with cold water, the small droplets dot the sharp lines of his body.

Bruce’s stance is smaller, shoulders hunched as he stands in the middle of your room. He’s softer without all that gear on him, yes, but there’s a hint of something wild in his gaze. Something rigid and tense in his bearing, as if he’s always one wrong move or word away from bolting back out the window.

“You’re staring again,” he mutters, cheeks dusted with red. His voice is so smooth when he’s not hiding behind the mask.

You shake your head and sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re hurt. C’mere.”

“Not really,” Bruce protests, but still crosses the room to stand in front of you.

He shudders when your fingertips touch the skin of his chest, sucks in a deep breath when your hand trails down. Past the existing scars on his chest and stomach, to the puckered line on his hip.

“This one’s new.” You raise your eyebrow at him and he shrugs.

“I didn’t know I had to catalogue my scars with you.”

You press your lips together and narrow your eyes at him. “Someone has to keep track. Tell me about this one.”

“It’s shallow.” He shrugs. “You don’t need to worry.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

You scoff. “That’s not an answer.”

Bruce’s eyes flick to yours. He clenches his jaw slightly, but doesn’t speak.

“You can talk to me…I know how lonely it must be, living a double life.” Your thumb smooths over the mark once more. “I can handle it.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” There’s that goddamn smirk again. He’s deflecting.

“I don’t dress up in tights and an animal costume and run around at night, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He steps closer, gently tilting your chin up so you have to look at him. “No?” The weight of his gaze slides down to your lips.

You shake your head, mouth going dry. “Nothing that exciting.”

“Shame.” Bruce gently nudges your legs apart, crowding your space. “We could’ve traded stories.”

Your hand slips from his stomach down to the waistband of his pants. “Like how you got this scar?” Your fingers play lightly on his skin.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Not until you tell me.”

“You’re demanding.”

“I prefer persistent.” You mold your hand over the crotch of his jeans. “Tenacious. Determined.” You rub at the rigid imprint of his dick. “Assertive. Firm,” you say with a squeeze.

Bruce rocks his hips forward. A quiet groan falls off of his lips.

“So tell me.” You lean forward and brush your lips over the scar. “Was it an armed robbery? A knife fight?”

“No.” He sucks in a choked breath. “I– uh…I was testing some new ah–” He groans when your tongue pokes between your lips to trace his skin. “New equipment. Throwing knives that I made. One ricocheted off the post and nicked me.”

Your lips pause their descent. “What?” Your eyebrows furrow.

“No knife fight or armed robbery. Just regular human error.” His face is flushed scarlet, and you can’t tell if it’s from embarrassment or from your touch.

He eyes you warily, unsure if you’ll laugh at him or not. Nervously, Bruce shifts his weight from side to side, the silence making him antsy.

You gaze up at him a second longer, taking in the strangely human side of him presented to you. So rare were these moments of vulnerability. It was hard to believe from his carefully manufactured confidence that he was still new to all of this. Still prone to making mistakes.

Still human buried under all those gadgets and kevlar.

You gently kiss the puckered scar. “Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

His strangled exhale almost sounds like a sigh of relief. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You pop the button of his jeans and slip your hand down the front of them. Bruce sucks in a breath as you mouth at his sculpted muscle. “I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know.” You wrap a hand around his hard cock and stroke slowly.

“Yeah, I know.” His head tips back. “Thanks.”

You watch his blissful expression with a smile, tongue poked between your teeth. “Anytime.” You squeeze him a little tighter, twisting your wrist as you keep up the leisurely pace.

Bruce keeps his hands balled up at his sides, unsure of where to place them. You take one with your free hand and bring it to your jaw. He cradles your chin with an unfamiliar tenderness, and drags his thumb over your mouth.

You part your lips, tongue dipping out to catch his finger. Bruce breathes harshly through his nose, dark eyes somehow growing dimmer. He presses his thumb into your mouth and you suck the sweat from his skin, hands still twisting and pulling at his throbbing cock.

Bruce’s hand falls from your face down your body. He traces a finger down the front of your neck, across the rigid bones of your collar, and further still until he reaches the peaks of your chest. He cups your breast, flicking a thumb over your clothed nipple. They harden under his touch, and you sigh quietly.

He wears a fond smile on his face. There’s something inquisitive in his gaze as he repeats the motion again, garnering the same results. You know he enjoys the effect he has on you and your body. The way his fingers can pinch and pull until you whimper and tremble.

Something in the way his gaze sweeps over your parted lips and lingers on your heaving chest gives you pause.

“You’re still wearing them, aren’t you?” You ask, squinting to see a hint of the plastic.

Bruce tilts his head.

“The contacts.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” He breathes in answer. His eyes slide back to yours. “Do you want me to take them out?”

Your breath catches, thinking about the possibility that he might watch these moments in private later. “No. It’s okay.”

Bruce leans forward, forcing eye contact with you. “Just okay?”

“Are you…going to play it back?”

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

“I do,” you say quickly. “I want you to watch it. Want you to think of me.”

Bruce pauses for a moment and swallows thickly. He seems to be weighing his next words carefully. “I always think of you.” His hand curls over your shoulder and pushes you back against your mattress.

You push yourself back further onto the bed. Bruce follows, pants hanging low against his hips. He hastily undoes the ties of your sleep shorts and pulls them down and off your legs. You go limp under his searing stare.

Bruce runs his fingers up the inside of your thigh leaving goosebumps in his wake. He plays with the wetness at the crux of your thighs, smearing the evidence of your arousal over his rough fingertips.

You bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan when he lightly swipes his thumb over your clit. He swirls it again, sharp eyes zeroing in on the way your teeth dig imprints into the flesh of your full lips. You lift your hips in search of more sweet pressure.

“Bruce,” you mumble under your breath, and you swear his whole body jerks.

He buries his face into your shoulder, fingers still on your dripping cunt. “Say it again.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat. Bruce’s thumb continues insistently against you, each swipe jolting through you like electricity from a live wire.

“Say it,” he mumbles low in your ear. “Please.”

Will he hear the desperation in your voice when he watches this again on some lonely night? You don’t know, but you hope so.

You find your voice. “B-Bruce,” you whisper hoarsely.

Bruce moans, teeth digging into your shoulder. “Shit.” Slowly, achingly so, he presses a finger into the velvet heat of your cunt, filling you deliciously.

You arch off of the mattress and into the solid mass of Bruce’s chest. “Oh fuck.”

His finger slides out and pushes back in again, and it’s not long before a second one breaks you even further open to him. He’s removed his head from the junction of your shoulder to stare at you. He catches your every reaction– every quiver of your lips, every flutter of your eyelids, each and every movement collected readily by greedy eyes.

You bite your bottom lip to stifle your loud moans. They spill clumsily into the air and rattle around the small room.

“Don’t,” Bruce says. “I want to hear you.” His fingers curl deliciously inside of you, making your thighs shake.

And who are you to deny such a simple request, when he’s looking at you like this. Equal parts ravenous and reverent. You let yourself go, surrendering every gasp and reedy sigh to his ears, even though it means you won’t ever be able to look your neighbor in the eyes again.

“Just like that,” you praise. “Oh– keep going.”

Bruce flushes scarlet, your words going straight to his aching cock. He rocks back onto his knees, watching his fingers thrust in and out of you.

Soon you feel the tell-tale glow within you. That warm pulse that spreads through your veins like the calm before the storm. Pleasure so close you can almost feel it sharp and light on the tip of your tongue.

“I’m close,” you whine, hips bucking wildly as you chase that high.

“Let go,” Bruce whispers, and with his simple command you’re falling.

You squeeze your eyes closed, lips parting as you sink deeper into bliss. Your limbs tighten and then go limp. And Bruce watches and guides you through it all. His fingers curl slightly, the tips stroking that blessed spot that leaves your brain in fuzzy shambles.

When you finally swim back to the surface, brain still encased in sticky amber, he is there. His eyes dark, like the storm clouds that hover over the city. He takes a deep breath– to steady or to psyche himself up, you don’t know– and suddenly he is kissing you.

A deep kiss. A hungry one. The clumsy slide of his chapped lips against yours. The awkward bump of teeth and a hungry flick of his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. It’s hot. It’s fast. It’s breathtaking. Your sigh is quickly swallowed, the warm slide of his tongue begs for another.

So you give him another…and another…and another…until your shoulders heave from the weight of the stolen breaths and Bruce’s lips leave yours in search of something more.

His hot mouth slides over your damp skin. Tongue swiping out to savor the sweetness of your soap. His hips rut against your thigh, cock straining so hard against his pants that it must hurt.

You’ve never seen him like this. Eager. Wanting. You long to give him that sweet release.

“Fuck me.” You slide a hand between your writhing bodies and squeeze his cock. “Please, Bruce, I need you inside me.”

“Jesus.” His eyes flicker towards the ceiling, jaw clenched and muscles straining. “I don’t have a condom.”

You pull his flushed cock from his pants and guide him between your legs. “I don’t care. I’m clean. You?”

“Y-yeah.” Bruce’s gaze is still turned upwards. “You’re the only one…”

“Look at me, Bruce.”

He does, and feels all of his self-control crumbling under the weight of your desire. And his. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want you just as bad as you seem to want him. Your next words confirm it.

“Please.” You look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “I want to make you feel good.”

And just as you couldn’t refuse him, he feels helpless against you.

Bruce nods and sinks into you with a stuttered groan of your name. He’s not gentle or slow, and that’s okay. You don’t want that. Such intimacy is reserved for other people, under completely different circumstances. You want him hard and fast and broken, and that’s exactly what he gives you.

He pushes your thighs further apart as he sinks into you over and over, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch of him sends your head reeling. You hold onto him for dear life, scoring fresh red marks into the freckled skin of his shoulder.

The thought of leaving a somewhat permanent mark on his body delights you, and you press your nails deeper into the pale canvas of his back.

Bruce’s hips buck into yours sloppily. His fingers curl around the slats of your headboard, and he uses them as leverage to pound deeper into you. He’s a mess, lost in the warm squeeze of you and beyond words. Only stuttered groans escape his lips.

You do your best to follow his disjointed rhythm with your hips, urging him closer and closer to the edge.

“C-come inside me,” you whimper, and are met with a jagged noise from the back of his throat. “Please, Bruce.”

He says your name through gritted teeth, eyes ablaze with wanton desire. He’s paradoxical– angel and demon rolled into one. Pure and tainted.

In the end it’s a sharp tug of his hair and a kiss to the underside of his jaw that is his undoing. Bruce thrusts sharply, filling you with the warmth of his cum. Shudders wrack his entire body, and he falls on top of you with a soft groan.

You lie under the weight of his body until your breathing syncs up. Until his muscles stop trembling. Until the weight of words unsaid threatens to crush both you and him.

He doesn’t stay with you. He never does. You learned not to take offense long ago. After all, the comfort you both sought didn’t extend to pillow talk and gentle touches.

Bruce slips his half-hard dick out of you with a ticked jaw. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

You squeeze your thighs together, acutely aware of the sticky warmth that seeps out of you. “You don’t need to thank me.”

He gives you a long look, searching for the right thing to say. The aftermath is impossibly awkward. You don’t understand why these moments are the hardest. It really shouldn’t be this tricky.

Bruce hands his used towel to you so you can clean up. Slowly and methodically, he gathers his gear and puts it back on.

“You’re heading back out there?” The rain hasn’t stopped. Actually it seems to have grown worse.

Bruce nods. “I still have another six hours of patrol.”

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Does crime?” He fits his baseball cap back over his head.

You pull your knees to your chest. “I guess not.” But you’re just a man, No matter how many layers you put on, you’ll still be just a man.

Bruce shrugs his backpack back onto his shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Sooner than I’ll be seeing you,” you say with a small grin.

He returns it. “Maybe. You take care of yourself, okay?”

“Speak for yourself. I’m not the one running around at night dressed like a bat.”

Bruce chuckles. He pulls his hood up and shimmies your window open. “If you need me–”

“Call Gordon. I know. Wait, Bruce!” You call, halting his movements.

He waits, half in the window, half out. What a perfect metaphor for his jumbled place in your life.

You look him over, heart tweaking painfully in your chest. The next time you saw him, he’d be different. “Please be careful.”

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “Don’t worry about me.” Bruce shuts the window and disappears into the night.

You can’t help but notice the warning in his words.

But you’re in far too deep to listen to it.

Tags:

@eupheme

#i'm done! i'm not gonna reread this anymore #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne #the batman #battinson #robert pattinson #rion writes

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