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lymtw · 28 days

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Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

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futureman · 5 months

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waiting to spill

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike never thought your week-long trip home would lead to the discovery of a costly new craving

warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, breeding kink, smut, desperate!mike, unprotected piv, creampie, riding, fingering, blue balls, mentions of pregnancy, cum play

word count: 3.9k

(based on this request)

Mike's praying the call goes through this time because if it doesn't, he might just lose his mind. You were supposed to land 20 minutes ago, but it's already half past 4 and your phone's still off.

Will it show how many missed calls you have? God, he hopes not. He's been redialing for the better part of an hour, hoping you landed early, but luck clearly isn't on his side. Every time it goes to voicemail, your voice taunts him. Just another reminder that you're not here—unreachable and untouchable.

Shitty fucking airline. He knew you should've taken an earlier flight, but he didn't want to be that guy. The one who tells you what to do and when, and makes decisions for his own benefit. He's a better guy than that, a better boyfriend than that, it's just—fuck, what is taking so long?

One more time. He'll try you one more time, and if it doesn't connect, he'll go sit on the couch and distract himself until you call him. He's already waited this long. He can suck it up a little longer. Probably.

He hits redial for the umpteenth time, his forehead thunking against the wall next to the landline, and then something miraculous happens. It rings.

Once, twice, and then you pick up. He doesn't wait for you to answer. Any patience he had left flew out the window hours ago and he doesn't care if you know it.

"Babe?"

You laugh softly on the other end, and it tugs at his heart...and his dick. Seatbelts click open in the background, and sounds of movement and chatter filter through the speaker.

"Hey, you. I actually just landed. I'll call you back once I get through customs, okay?" you reply, bright as ever.

It sets him off worse than he expected. You're so much more potent in real-time than on voicemail, and it's fucking with his sense of urgency. He doesn't want to rush you, but he needs you. So badly.

"W-wait. Can you come over? After you're done with the airport stuff, I mean," he manages to get out, interjecting cautiously before you can hang up.

"I was gonna stop home to drop off my bags and take a quick shower, but I can come over after that," you reply distractedly, likely dealing with overhead bins and other passengers trying to deplane.

He shakes his head, gripping the phone a little too tightly as he bites back a frustrated whine. That'll take too long. The airport's about an hour's ride from your apartment, and by the time you're done showering—no. No, just come to him. It's a shorter ride to his house, anyway.

"Just—you can do all of that here. Stay over and I'll drive you back to your place in the morning. Please?" he asks, desperation beginning to bleed into his voice.

It pulls your attention back to him almost immediately, and he hates how good that feels.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you counter, misreading his plea as an emergency.

Your phone keeps shifting like it's tucked against your shoulder, and now it sounds like you're moving faster, hurrying like he wants you to, but for the wrong reasons.

"Everything's fine, I just need to see you," he says, willing you to understand. "Babe, I really need to see you."

He's too ashamed to spell it out. What would he even say? If he doesn't cum inside you soon, he thinks he might die? He's horny, not pathetic.

"Mike, that doesn't sound fine...," you sigh on the other end, your quickening footsteps audible through the receiver.

"Please."

You pause for a second, and his heart leaps into his throat. Don't say no. Please, don't say no.

"Gimme an hour, okay? I'll catch a cab to your place as soon as I can," you finally agree.

He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, but it's louder than he realizes and you clock it on the spot.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, all good. I'm just glad you're back. Feels like it's been forever," he mumbles, somehow sated and yet anticipating your arrival more than ever.

He shifts anxiously from one foot to the other, wincing at the unexpected friction against the growing problem between his legs. The atmosphere around you changes and your responding laugh blends into the bustle of casual conversations and overhead announcements in your terminal.

"Can't survive one week without me, huh? I guess I'm bringing you and Abby along next time I visit my parents," you joke, but it's getting harder to make out what you're saying. "Look, I'm almost at customs. I'll see you soon, I promise."

The call ends, and he's left with the loneliness of a dial tone and an empty house. He hangs up and plops down on the couch, clutching the TV remote like a lifeline while he desperately tries to ignore the painful tent in his boxers.

An hour. He can handle one more hour.

He can't handle one more hour. It's been 45 minutes and he feels like he's about to burst. The worst part? It's his own damn fault.

He's the asshole who made the conscious decision not to jerk off the entire time you were gone, but he can't bring himself to regret it. He had his reasons. In about 15 minutes, it'll all be worth it.

Maybe less.

There's a knock at the door, and he's up and off the couch so fast, he's surprised he doesn't have whiplash. He wrenches it open to find you on the other side, a little stunned by the abrupt greeting, but worth every second of blue balls he put himself through.

"Hey," he breathes out, winded by his mad dash and the relief of you finally being here.

"Hey, yourself," you smile wryly. Your eyes drop to where he's not even remotely trying to hide his raging boner. "Ah-ha, so that's—"

But that's all you manage to say before he drags you into the house and slams your back against the door, shutting out your luggage and the cab driver still idling in the driveway. His lips crash into yours and you taste so good, it's dizzying.

Remnants of Sprite and spearmint gum linger on your tongue as it meets his, and he groans, wondering how he went an entire week without this. All that time, deprived of your addictive touch and perfect tits while he tortured himself, waiting for you to come back to him.

He can't decide where to put his hands first, roaming and squeezing from your waist, up your shirt—which he's just realizing is his—to splay across your ribcage. Pressing you harder into the door, he separates from your lips to mouth at the underside of your jaw, mumbling his appreciation between each harsh bruise he sucks into your skin.

"Fuck, I missed you," he pants, shamelessly grinding into your hip for relief. He wants you to feel how hard you're making him, so you'll understand all those missed calls.

"Yeah? I can tell," you laugh breathily, running your hands up his chest, pushing his shirt up as you go.

Your thumbs brush against his bare skin, sending a heady jolt straight to his cock, and suddenly none of this is moving fast enough. His hands drop to your ass, roughly tugging your hips into his, and you gasp in unison at the friction. Together, you fall into a frantic rhythm, rutting into each other like a pair of horny teenagers.

"Shit, Mike...," you moan his name, and he feels like he's dreaming. He has to be because nothing else in his waking world has ever felt this good.

Contrary to the rest of his body, he kisses you again slowly, savoring every noise he's coaxing from you and devouring them like a man starved. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer, and he swears he's never letting you leave this house again.

If by some miracle he does, he's going to make sure you're pumped so full of him, you'll be leaking him the entire time you're gone, unable to think about anything else. And when you come back, he'll do it all over again.

Damnit, he needs you in his bed, now.

He backs away from the door with you still in his arms, leading you further into the house down a path you know by heart. Briefly, he separates from your lips to lift your shirt up and over your head, then discards his own before tugging down the cups of your bra to latch onto a nipple.

You hiss at the contact, trembling as he teases it with his teeth, and immediately reach behind you to unclasp the offending piece of fabric. It drops soundlessly to the floor along with your jeans, underwear, and finally his boxers. Nipping sharply at the sensitive skin one last time, he pulls away to admire you, trailing his fingers down your arms until your hands are in his.

You're fucking beautiful. Your lips are kiss-swollen and glossy, begging to be kissed again, and your thighs are...wet, fucking hell. Fuck, he missed you. His mouth starts to water at the thought of licking into you, fucking you with his tongue while your thighs quake on either side of his head, but the painful throbbing between his legs is starting to overwhelm him.

He's positive, now, that if he's not inside you soon, he'll actually die. He's not just horny, anymore. It's so far beyond that.

Four more agonizing steps backward and he's finally passing the threshold into his room, so close to being on his back with you bouncing on top of him—except he doesn't make it that far.

The door shuts behind you, and then you're on your knees, wrapping those perfect fingers around his dick and guiding him between your lips. He panics. There's no way he's going to last if you try to blow him right now.

Tenderly, you lick a stray bead of precum off the tip, and his balls immediately draw up so tight, he has to slide your hand down to the base and squeeze to keep from cumming on the spot. He shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing as he inhales sharply through his nose.

"Babe, I can't...," he grits out, struggling to find the words to explain himself. "I'll cum too fast, you can't."

You grin, leaning forward to press your lips against his white-knuckled fist.

"That's sort of the whole point, isn't it?" you tease, trailing back to his cock, seconds away from giving him the most intense orgasm of his life.

"I need to fuck you," he blurts out. It's short and to the point, but there's no use in pretending he doesn't. At this point, he'll be lucky if he doesn't explode the second he's inside you. "I need to fuck you so bad right now, I feel like I'm going crazy."

You pause to look up at him, your eyes roving over his face, lingering on his angrily ticking jaw. You get it, now.

"Hey, it's okay—you're okay," you murmur, leaning forward to kiss away another drop of precum. He chokes back a groan and reflexively jerks away, and you take the hint to release your grip. "Okay, fuck me. Show me how much you missed me."

But you don't have any idea what you're asking for, do you? He missed you so much. There's so much catching up to do, and he has so little patience left.

He doesn't waste any more time. With every ounce of self-control he's got left, he drags you to your feet and towards the bed, trying his best not to manhandle you up the mattress and onto his lap. He fails epically. The second he's flat on his back with you grinding down on him, his patience becomes a thing of the past.

"You ready for me? Because I'm not gonna be able to stop, and I need you to feel good," he's starting to babble, but he has a feeling nothing he says from now on will make any sense, and he needs you to want it as much as he does.

His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, and when he tugs you closer to notch at your entrance, he can feel you clenching wetly around him.

"Shit—," he breathes out, his biceps tensing as he lifts you and lines himself up. He pushes in just enough for you to stretch around the tip, and you steady yourself on his chest, your palms searingly hot on his skin as you squeeze him a little harder.

"Let me make you feel good," he says again, even though you're already letting him, already yielding to his steady push and pull. Every inch he gives you feels like taking a shot of tequila, and it's making his head spin. If he could hear himself anymore, he'd realize he sounds wasted.

"Let me fill you up, please," he begs, rolling his hips up to lengthen his thrusts. They’re so much easier now that you’re dribbling down him—so much wetter—but you're so damn tight, he has to force himself to look away from where you're joined and gripping the hell out of him. "You know, I-I waited for you—waited to cum, I didn't cum at all."

"Mike...fuck. That's good. That's so good, baby," you tell him shakily. "Give it to me. Nice and deep, you deserve it."

He keens at the praise—he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd tried—and your nails bite into his skin in response, nose scrunching adorably as you gush around him. He knew you'd like that. He knew you'd want it.

Look at his girl, so pretty on top of him, just waiting for him to bust inside you. Fleetingly, he wonders if you're still on birth control. Possessively, he doesn't care. Rationally, he knows he can't afford to knock you up, but shit—right now, he really fucking wants to. He imagines you in the same position you're in, horny and round with his baby, and suddenly he's never wanted anything so badly in his life.

He doesn't stop to think about whether or not he should. He doesn't stop at all, just like he warned you, not even when he's buried to the hilt and you're both struggling to adjust.

He just buries himself in you again and again and again until the sound of your skin colliding with his becomes a wet thock-thock-thock that bounces off the walls of his bedroom. The springs beneath him squeak dangerously as he pushes his bedframe to its absolute limits, but he can’t hear any of that, either.

His senses are in overdrive, and all he can focus on is how you feel around him. And he’s not nearly as deep as he needs to be. Rougher than he means to, he grabs your ass with both hands and starts to force you up and down his cock, gripping hard enough to bruise. He’ll hate how much he likes the idea of that later.

"S-so fucking pretty...gonna make me cum so hard. So much. Need you to take all of it," he pants with the exertion of lifting and dropping your full weight onto himself.

He can feel himself slamming into your cervix and desperately tries to think about anything else but emptying right into it, but the sight of you taking him like you were made for it makes it ten times worse.

Just looking at you makes him want to cum—your tits bouncing as you ride him, your pussy creaming down his cock and balls, and seeping into his sheets. Those pouty lips of yours moaning around pleas of harder and right there and don't stop, I'm cumming.

"Baby...babe—," your shattered voice cuts through the fog, and then he feels it. "M'cumming. I'm...Mike, keep going there, there. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Fucking hell, you're really cumming. Tight and wet, and clamping down on him like a vice. Somehow, he always forgets it's like this with you. That you cum this hard for him, that he's able to make you cum this hard for him. For a second, he feels overwhelmingly grateful. Then, he's planting his feet on the bed and fucking you so hard, you stop moaning and start screaming.

It's there. It's right there, so close he can feel it building everywhere. Sweat trickles down his temples, matting his curls to his forehead, and you brush them away, one hand braced on the mattress next to his head and the other buried in his hair as you ride out your high.

His balls draw up so tight, it's painful, and he thinks he might start yelling too, but he's too focused on the chase. He's too busy watching, dumbfounded by the perfect body coming apart on top of him.

The girl he waited for.

He tries to tell you. He tries to open his mouth and tell you that you’re everything he thought he’d never have, and that he wants to keep you forever. That he wants to be part of you, that being inside you is one of the rare places he’s ever felt wanted. But that’s not what comes out.

He’s too far gone now, and all he can manage is an incomprehensible stream of moans and sighs as he forces you flush against his pelvis, grinding into you as deep as he can reach. His eyes struggle not to close, nearly crossing as that familiar heat permeates his limbs and pools at the base of his cock. But it’s so much more intense than he can ever remember it being.

He lifts his gaze to your lips to find them moving, repeatedly forming a single word he can barely make out. But by the time he figures it out, he’s already giving you what you asked for.

Please. You’re saying please. He repeats it back, begging you to take it, thanking you for letting him have this.

His orgasm rocks him. As it peaks, he feels numb like he’s suspended in time, and then it slams into him so hard, he folds in on himself. He buries his face in your tits, his breath hitching sharply in time with the visible throbbing of his cock, and he’s immediately flooded with relief. But it won’t fucking stop. It lasts so much longer than either of you expect it to, pulse after endless pulse, and he holds you in place through it all.

When it finally subsides and sensitivity sets in, your nails scratching lightly across his back are what bring him back to the present. He lifts his head from where it's still pillowed on your tits, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

Maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe he’s just been dreaming this entire time, but he swears you’re glowing. The final rays of late summer sun illuminate your dewy skin and soft curves, and as you move lower to kiss his lips, he unconsciously rests a hand over your stomach. It feels right—but only briefly. His head starts to clear the longer he licks into your mouth, and when you part, reality finally hits.

"Shit, I think I just got you pregnant," he breathes out, sliding his hand off your stomach to your waist before collapsing onto the mattress. "Shit."

He looks up at you in concern, his mind racing a mile a minute. What did he just do? He can’t—you can't get pregnant. Not with Abby, and your jobs, and his shitty finances. It just isn't an option.

And yet you’re still perched on top of him, snug around his softening dick, and he can’t bring himself to pull out. You don’t even seem remotely worried.

You're actually smiling. No, you're laughing, and he's still panicking and confused as hell. It gets infinitely worse when you accidentally push him out and his gut reaction is to plug you back up with his fingers, keeping his release from leaking out. This is so fucked up. He’s so fucked up.

"I mean—were you trying to?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Kinda seems like it."

Your eyes drop between your legs to where his hand is cupping your heat, irrefutable proof that you’re not wrong. So, why doesn’t that bother you?

"Babe, breathe," you smile softly, brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "I'm like, 98.8 percent positive you can't knock me up. Give or take, but we can check the box if it'll make you feel better."

It actually might, but the last thing he's going to do is admit it. He can't believe he didn't double-check something like that—but then again, he feels like he's been in a fugue state for hours, if not the entire week you were gone.

"You're still on birth control?" he asks cautiously, almost afraid to get his hopes up. He takes a deep breath like you told him to and it helps ease some of his lingering panic. Not all of it, but at least he's starting to think rationally and not with his dick.

"Mike. There isn't a single condom in this entire house. Yes, I'm on birth control," you laugh again, and even just the sound of it is soothing. It helps, too.

"And it definitely works? Because that was...a lot," he mumbles. He already knows he sounds like a total idiot, but he has to be sure. There's still a week's worth of his release plugged up inside you, and as much as it turns him on, he needs to know if he has to run out to the pharmacy or if he's free to do it again. And again.

"Have you ever fucked me with a condom on?" you counter. He scoffs at the question, and you clench around his fingers in retaliation.

"Of course, I have. Maybe not in a while, but early on, for sure," he replies confidently, even though he's not confident in his answer at all. Sure, he can't give you a specific example, but that doesn't mean it never happened.

"You literally came inside me the day we met," you deadpan.

His cock stirs at the memory, hardening distractingly against your inner thigh. That, he definitely remembers. He's pretty sure that's the night he fell in love with you, but he's hard-pressed to admit that, either.

"There's no way."

"And every time since then," you continue, looking way too amused at his misfortune. Can't get anything past you, can he?

Okay, so maybe it wasn't just your trip that triggered what happened tonight. Maybe it's always been a thing. His thing. You just look so goddamn good—filled with it, covered in it. Shit, he really shouldn't be hard already.

"Babe, come on. I do...it other places, too,” he reasons, sliding his hand up to tweak a nipple. But it becomes a moot point the second your breath hitches. So much for rational thinking. “I just—"

"You just really like cumming inside me," you finish for him, taking his cock in your hand and stroking him until he's as desperate as he was earlier.

He pulls his fingers free from your pussy and tries not to lament the immediate rush of cum that leaks out. It's okay. He's got plenty more to give you.

"Yeah, I really do."

thanks for reading!

(and so much love to @joelsgreys, @tinycozycomfort & @psychedelic-ink for your help & support, and for listening to me go on and on about this man <3)

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #fnaf imagine #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's

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chaenqen · 8 months

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needed me. nishimura riki

— featuring nishimura riki female!reader warnings reader being called ‘beautiful’, fluff fluff and a bunch of flustered reader because they don’t call him rizzimura rizzki for no reason side note i recommend listening to ‘needed me’ by riahanna ;) word count around 737

riki decided to show you the new choreo he recently finished choreographing on a monday at 3.43 am… you weren’t exactly happy about the time he picked since you were quite occupied with your studies yet when he insisted on showing it to you today you gave in and met him at the dance practice room.

“i hope the choreo is worth the precious time i could have spend on my studies” you roll your eyes in annoyance yet the corners of your lips just couldn’t stay down as you saw his excited expression while he got the song ready.

as soon as you noticed what song he was going to perform for you, your eyes widen and the heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant.

“are you— seriously?” you look away from him in fear that he’d see your flustered face yet he had obviously already figured it out.

“what? don’t like the song choice? i think it’s perfect, especially for a late night session like this” he winked at you before pressing play and rihannas voice could be heard through the giant speakers.

his footsteps echo slightly through the room as he makes his way over to you, guiding you backwards so that he could have some more space.

“good god—“ you let out with a shaky breath as you look back down to the wooden flooring before managing to look up at him again, paying close attention to how he tugged on his hoodie, his pants and then rolling his sleeves up just for them to roll right back down since his hoodie was pretty loose and thin.

“you ready?” as he notices your pink cheeks and the way you fiddled with your phones case he started to smirk and let out a small chuckle of victory. he had you right where he wanted you.

“whatever…” you spit out nervously but your voice sounded more annoyed and irritated than nervous and flustered. “oh— somebodies feeling feisty” you roll your eyes at his remark once again.

bet you never could imagine never told you you could have it you needed me

his body moved with the rhythm of the song like he was one with it and his eyes never look away from yours to make sure that you’re actually paying attention and hell— you were paying attention to him…

oooh you needed me

he hits every beat and makes it look so effortlessly good yet you know that it was everything but effortless. his tongue glides along his lower lip, his gaze locks with yours and your heart skips a thousand beats as you pay attention to how the fabric of his top flies up whenever he lifts his arms, revealing a tad bit of his toned skin to you which makes you look away, covering your lower face with the sleeve of your hoodie. as soon as the part of the song ends to which he had choreographed something to he turns the volume lower so it could be heard in the background as he walks towards you. your face was turned the other way, not daring to look into his eyes at all.

“come on, beautiful… tell me what you think? anything i should change?” he knew exactly what effect he had on you. the way your flushed face was turned away, sleeve still covering your face making it too obvious that you liked everything about it. you were just too shy to admit it.

“was good…” he chuckles as he takes your face in his hand, tilting your chin upwards so you would look at him. “was good? got nothing else to say?” his face leans down to your level, mouth right beside your ear to whisper in a low and raspy voice

“i think there’s a lot on your pretty mind, don’t you think, beautiful?” he was playing with you, with the fact that you were so affected by everything he did and said, by everything about himself just in general. “w-was great… i-i liked it…” you notice the way his face was also slightly flushed, probably because of his performance just now.

“wanna show me how much you liked it?” his head tilts to the side as he leans further down to you, that smirk never leaving his handsome face.

“wanna show me how much you like me, hm? show me, beautiful…”

<33

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ghostdrinkssoup · 1 year

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something I find really interesting about hannibal’s character is how he uses people’s expectations and ingrained assumptions to hide himself. no one suspects he’s a serial killer because he doesn’t present as one. he’s elegant and refined and isn’t cruel to animals. he’s highly sophisticated, a polyglot and has a deep admiration for beauty and life. he appreciates saving lives just as much as he appreciates ending them. in fact, this particular aspect of his character is partly why it takes will the entirety of s1 to accept hannibal’s true nature. will saw hannibal save abigail and accompany her to the hospital in apéritif and he also saw hannibal save a man’s life by performing emergency surgery and taking over the operation at the end of sorbet.

this moment in particular is interesting because of how it’s framed to make hannibal look almost godly from will’s point of view:

1) hannibal is positioned immediately higher than will due to being in the ambulance, meaning will is looking up at hannibal, while hannibal is looking down on him

2) hannibal is standing under a bright light as he works to save this guy’s life, while will is standing in almost complete darkness

3) the usual orchestral, classical music is playing in the background, emphasising the apparent “holiness” of the act and framing hannibal as some sort of saviour

the impact of this scene is even more potent when considering the context of the rest of the episode, since will has already stated that the ripper is not the type to save people or enact mercy on anyone. his style of murders doesn’t suggest this characteristic whatsoever, and although will’s assessment is correct, hannibal’s personality and overall demeanour doesn’t match what we’d imagine a person like that might look like. I think will is confronted by this as well, because even if hannibal’s surgical skill means he matches the ripper’s profile (which makes him a valid suspect) his actions contradict will’s image of the ripper, while simultaneously affirming it:

it’s difficult to reconcile these facets of hannibal’s character. it’s inherently contradictory and defies our cultural expectations. nonetheless, hannibal’s inclination to save people is sometimes more insidious than his murders. he doesn’t save people out of altruism, he does it because he thinks he’s superior and enjoys deciding outcomes. he doesn’t view himself as insane, he views himself as god. this is most aptly explored in takiawase, through the acupuncturist/beekeeper killer. here we see a murderer who confesses that she killed a man to quiet his mind, and tells jack that it’s beautiful that she managed to protect him and her other patients. this is one side of hannibal’s character, the one who’s a doctor and therapist and sees death as a cure from disease, even if the ‘disease’ itself is literally just discourtesy. it’s ultimately an act of power.

and yet in this same episode he flips a coin and saves bella on a whim. this of course is framed to others as an act of mercy, however the reality is he took bella’s power away in an act disguised as kindness. once again, he hides in plain sight. this is the other side of his character, and it’s just as deadly.

it’s still about power.

but we don’t associate acts of mercy with monstrosity. when hannibal comforts abigail in trou normand we question whether he’s as bad as we think, because what negative connotations are tied to paternal tenderness? we miss that hannibal is fostering dependency, that he literally looks dead in the eyes as he holds her, and that he blatantly just told us that he’s using abigail to manipulate will:

hannibal often does this actually. he either directly says what he’s doing or suggests that he’s the culprit (often through cannibal puns, as we know) but no one ever interprets him correctly because doing so would contradict the image he’s carefully constructed for himself. it would cause too much dissonance.

and what’s fascinating is that on a subtextual level this is largely what the show is about. the story is an exploration of societal roles and the struggle to fit into stiff categorisation and expectations. will parallels hannibal in this regard because he’s desperately trying to repress his identity by taking on certain roles. and the audience is lured by this persona the same way the characters are lured by hannibal because will defies our understanding of certain tropes. on a genre level, will assumes the detective archetype, meaning we are primed to think he’s inherently good. when we see him say he wants to save people we believe him, even though he often only does so to prove to himself that he’s a good person. will is indeed righteous, a characteristic we often view positively, however he’s violent, wrathful and actively enjoys murder due to how powerful it makes him feel. he’s not dissimilar to hannibal, we just don’t see this straight away because doing so would disrupt our understanding of good and evil.

will hides the same way hannibal does, except will hides from us as well

#ghostie once again goes on a tangent #but it’s so !! I really love how the show fucks with everyone #and uses our expectations to do it #even on a narrative/genre level #the key to unveiling it is letting that conditioning and urge to categorise everything go #also wow I’m back to writing meta hello there #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #hannigram #hannibal meta #ghost speaks

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sanspuppet · 3 months

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PAIRING: ot8 idol!Ateez x manager afab!reader

W/T: unprotected sex, public sex, orgy, double penetration, anal sex, creampies, handjob, blowjob

actually writing an orgy was way more tough than i expected 🧍🏻‍♀️i hope this turned out well anyways

2K words of pure filth

@bro-atz here is it :) i hope you’ll still be doing fine after this lmao

Honestly, the view looks mesmerizing. You’ve never seen so many dicks at once, jerking all off to you as all ateez members can’t help but get feral at the sight of your naked body. “Isn’t she so pretty? Our favorite girl seems enjoying herself now.” Mingi kneels in front of you, raising up your chin while the other hands keeps stroking his fat cock. “Lookin so ready to take all of us… fuck” Yeosang adds, whimpering when a sharp shiver goes down his pelvis. Some of the members are sitting on the small couch right next the door of the practice room, looking at you along with quick glances at the dicks near to them. “What the fuck are we waiting? If someone ain’t gonna fuck her now, i’ll go first” Wooyoung points at you with his usual silly behavior, little thing out of note is that he’s palming his balls at the same time, his Adam’s apple moves as he swallows hard from pleasure. Mingi chuckles, even if they act like it’s an ordinary situation, you’re mind still has to elaborate how the fuck did y’all happen to be naked inside the dance practice room. “I’m gonna take her first, Yunho? Come here bro” Mingi turns around to search for the man, who was already getting closer to you two as soon as Mingi knelt before. The man in front of you looks at you again, moving you to sit on his lap as he lays on the floor, the coldness makes him shiver under your body. He groans deeply when your wet sticky folds rub against his erected cock, that’s pressing against his lower abdomen. Yunho comes from behind, kneeling between Mingi’s legs, his big hands cup completely your butt cheeks, spreading them to get a better look of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, such a pretty pussy you have, doll” Yunho slides a finger along with your wet cut, sweet whimpers roll out of your tongue. Most of the other members groan, everyone has taken his place where they can watch you three having your moment. When you tilt your head to make your hair fall back on one side, you notice Hongjoong trying to make eye contact with you, as Seonghwa who’s sitting next to him pumps his dick at a fast pace, the squelching sound coming especially from them can be heard easily in the room. You sigh with a slight smirk: “So eager to cum, aren’t you Hongjoong?” You move your gaze to the man that’s pleasuring him, Seonghwa bites his lip as he busies both of his hands. Hongjoong can only relieve a quiet giggle to prevent a loud moan. Your attention is dragged away when you feel Yunho rubbing his tip along your folds, before moving an inch up to reach your asshole. He struggles a little to slide inside of it at first, but as soon as his cockhead penetrated you, he can’t stop pushing himself further inside. You hold onto Mingi’s chest, scratching his abs with your long nails, he looks at you from beneath, giving you cocky smirks. “You’re not stuffed full enough baby, let me help it.” His big hand grabs his dick, pressing the tip of it at your throbbing entrance, even though it dives in without many problems, sharing your stomach with Yunho’s crotch isn’t as easy too. “Fuck, it’s squeezing me so much” Yunho grips your ass harshly as the pace speeds up, impatient to feel more friction. Meanwhile, in the background, San and Jongho are being the loudest, clearly enjoying themselves, stroking their length faster as the pleasure gets more intense. Less to say it, being pumped by two big cocks like the ones that are inside of you, is something insane yet so fucking amazing to feel. Mingi holds onto his heels, while thrusting into your pussy with eagerness, deep groans escape from both of them, while they worship you. Not so long after, Mingi cums into you first, the grip on your waist gets tighter as he shoots his seeds deeper. And right after that, at the feeling of his warmth filling you completely, you orgasm too, squeezing helplessly your holes more intense than ever. “Fuck! Suckin’ in my dick so well- ‘m so close” Yunho, seconds after paints your insides white. By now you’re sure that you’re looking fucked out, well quite obvious after those two men literally gave you the best fuck ever.

You can’t even recover properly that Jongho stands up, heading towards you: “My turn now, gonna fuck your little mouth.” Mingi and Yunho sit on the floor next to the couch, after taking a few sips of water from their bottles. You kneel in front of Jongho, as soon as he’s in front of you, you wrap your hands around his strong thighs, your mouth’s already brushing against his cockhead. “Mmh yes, open up, pretty girl” In less than a few seconds you’re swallowing his dick, forcing yourself to inhale the air from your nose as you feel on the verge of choking with every time his tip touches the back of your throat. “Oh my fucking god- what a good slut you are” Jongho whimpers pleasantly one your tongue reaches for his balls. You didn’t notice someone has taken place behind your back until it raises your ass up, making you go on all fours as you keep sucking on Jongho’s dick. “Wanna have my way into you too, baby.” Yeosang’s voice is so deep that you swear you throbbed right in the spot as soon as he spoke. You try to nod but the only thing that comes from your mouth is a gag, making all the men chuckle. “Yeah, she wants you inside as well” Wooyoung smirks down at you, before landing his eyes on Yeosang’s cock already sliding into you. Jongho doesn’t takes much to cum, he got extremely close to his climax every time you choked on him, until he couldn’t take no more. He suddenly pulls out, stroking himself quickly while looking down at you. “Tongue out, gotta let you taste it.” As soon as you open your mouth, loud moans roll out, unable to hold them back because of Yeosang’s dick hitting perfectly all the right spots. Ropes of thick cum land all over your face when Jongho cums, his high pitched moans surely sound the best. He pats your forehead and smirks down at you, before moving to the members to have their turn. There you see Hongjoong standing up, his cock twitches and swirls as he smears his precum all over it while walking over you. “Ahw, you look so pretty with your face painted with cum.” You barely look at him, you squeeze your eyes shut, once you feel your second orgasm approaching too. You let out pathetic slutty moans and heavy breaths, as Yeosang speeds up his pace to get the both of you to your climax in a few seconds. “Fuck! I’m cumming! Yeah keep clenching like that, so good!” When Yeosang becomes loud, everyone other start jerking off faster, admiring the view eagerly to see you reach your high again. Yeosang pulls out, spreading your ass cheeks to see better his cum leaking out of your aroused cunt. “Fuck… so hot”

As soon as Yeosang stands up and walks away from you, Seonghwa takes his place. “Don’t worry baby, i’ll give a… little rest. All i wanna do is just eat you out” He leans over you to just give a kitten lick on your stuffed pussy. You raise your head, giving a quick look at Hongjoong’s dick, before turning your head to Wooyoung, who immediately walked over you. “Well if you’re gonna busy yourself with her clit. I’m gonna take her ass, i can’t fucking wait no more.” You feel exhausted yet you couldn’t even think of stopping. You look at him with a sly but tired smile. Seonghwa lays beneath you, his head’s facing your crotch while you can stare at his erected cock by just moving your head down. The two other men penetrate you at the same time, yet Wooyoung starts immediately with a sharp, quick pace, that forces you to swallow hard the dick in front of you. “Oh fuck! So tight, just as i thought it would be.” Wooyoung seems desperate to cum, probably he was already close and just wanted to release his load into you. Hongjoong thrusts in your mouth slightly, holding your chin to remember you to look up at him. “So perfect, I think we ain’t gonna last long, am i right?” He asks, glancing at the man behind you. You don’t catch Wooyoung’s reply, your mind at this point has gone blank, Seonghwa is so capable of using his tongue the right way, thing that you already figured out by watching him on stage. Every single moan he lets out, feels like the better vibrator ever, that slowly makes the knot in your stomach intensify again. In one quick move, Wooyoung does a final, rougher than ever thrust, making Hongjoong hit the deepest spot in your throat, as if it wasn’t enough, Seonghwa automatically sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around it. All this ends with you being stuffed full again of the two men’s sperm, your own cum’s leaking out mixed with the others’ previous cum. Only one member’s left. You looked for San, who’s sitting on the couch waiting for you with patient. He chuckles at the sight of your red, puffy cheeks and your fucked out expression. San takes a bottle of water in his hands, before heading towards you as the other members rest on the couch again. “Here baby, take a sip and regain yourself. I’ll wait for you.” He offers you the bottle, then sits behind you, jerking off while having a close look of your swallowed pussy. You rest your chest on the floor, breathing deeply as you try to recover. Even the other members slowly start to dress up again. After a couple minutes, you stand up again, holding onto your wrists. “Are you ready?” San looks up at you, pressing slightly his tip against your entrance, impatience suddenly flowing into his body, wanting to slide in. “Y-yeah” you lowly nod, looking back at him with a smile. San doesn’t wait twice to pump into you, the wetness of your walls making it easy to thrust. “Mmmphh… feels too good kitten” he grips your ass, smirking at the red marks that the other members left before. He then gropes it softly, in contrast with his rough pace. “Yeah, just keep it for a few other minutes, you did so well for us.” Yeosang chuckles in a corner, everyone has still their eyes kept on you. “What a gentleman, San.” The only thing he gets as a reply is a pleased sigh from the man behind you. His thrust are become sloppier with every each one. You bite your lower lip, eager to make the both of you come, you clench intensely around him. San goes crazy at the feeling of your walls pulsing around him as you squeeze his dick. “Im gonna cum soon baby, get ready” a hand moves down your abdomen, searching for you clit. Once he founds it, he starts to draw quick circles with his thumb, his pumps are matching the pace. You lay on your elbows, feeling your fourth orgasm approaching too. San leans over your back, leaving messy kisses on the back of your neck. He groans loudly, sliding in and out slowly to focus better on the warmth and wetness of your tight pussy, which not long after makes him cum.

Another load is being shot inside you, this time filling you completely as he had to pull out the exact same second he started to release. You collapse onto the floor, without even realizing you’ve soon fallen asleep.

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savingcrxws · 10 months

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EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

[ prev chap ] [ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes.

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant.

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table.

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.”

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch.

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?”

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call.

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption.

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you.

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut.

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation.

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man.

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere.

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid.

Absolutely not, apparently.

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath.

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge.

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

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#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear season 2 #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfic

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roosterr · 9 months

Text

white flag ✹ interlude

note: this chapter is a lil shorter than usual, I just wanted to include a lil bonding moment for reader and ghost before the events of next chapter :)

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: you and ghost go people watching in the local park, plus a little heart to heart

warnings: just some much needed fluff :)

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

one warm shower and a couple of ibuprofen later, you're feeling mostly human again with a manageable headache and a reasonable amount of regret for how pathetic you’d acted. with time you’d get over that, especially now that ghost had finally seen the light and started treating you with some decency. admittedly though, his change in attitude threw you off earlier; you were bracing for a stern lecture and he essentially brushed it off as though it didn't matter, but you’ve decided not to dwell on that fact.

small victories, as they say.

for the very first time, the pair of you were both sitting across from each other at the tiny kitchen table, in your own worlds; the radio was faintly playing some classic rock station in the background as ghost had his nose in his book and you played some mindless game on your phone. you’d honestly prefer to be reading a good book too, but your collection was currently ash in the wind, so this would have to do.

you're tempted to try starting a conversation, the quiet was giving you far too much room to think, but on the other hand the atmosphere is so peaceful it would be a shame to ruin it.

so you set your phone down on the table and turn your eyes to ghost, watching him scan the pages, his head tilted slightly in concentration. he's washed most of the paint from around his eyes – that was probably done yesterday, not that you noticed – so only a few smudges mark his skin. with the black paint gone, you notice the raised bumps of old scars around his eyes, something you'd never paid much attention to before. you know better than to ask, but you do wonder, in the back of your mind, the stories behind all of them. examining them gives you inexplicable urge to run your fingers over them, to soothe the ache having so many of them must cause.

his dark eyes are like black holes, drawing in your attention and refusing to let you escape their grasp. you're vaguely aware of how long you've been staring at his face, but you don't care to snap yourself out of it until he speaks up.

"what?" he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the page. you quickly look away, down to where your hands idly fiddle with your phone on the table.

"question."

"hm?" he hums in acknowledgement, but still doesn't look at you. normally you'd give up at this point, assuming he was completely uninterested in what you had to say, but this time you decide to push your luck.

"you fancy a walk to the park?"

finally, he meets your eyes, looking up through his light eyelashes and blinking once as he contemplates his answer. you resist the urge to break eye contact as he stares right through you.

"...alright." he says, wedging his bookmark between the pages and sets the book down on the table.

you weren't expecting him to say yes, but you're pleasantly surprised that he did; it felt slightly surreal that after all this time, you were finally becoming friends with ghost. your eyes follow him as he stands, leaving the room to, presumably, change his mask while you sit there with a bewildered look on your face.

a minute or so passes before you hear his voice again. "you comin'?" he calls from the entryway, bringing you back to the present.

"oh– yeah, one second!" you jump up from your chair and rush to get ready as well. the grin you wore as you rushed past him to fetch your jacket was unconscious, the feeling lighting up your features and overshadowing and lingering thoughts from the night before.

a few moments later you're tugging your boots on and you're both walking out the door together, side by side. for once it's actually a nice day, so the short walk to the park is a pleasant one under the blue sky and warm sunlight.

"sorry again, for last night. i think that's gonna haunt me for the rest of my life." you look over to ghost with an apologetic expression, and you can't help but feel that the expression he gives back is one of amusement despite not being able to see half his face.

"that's twice you've screamed at me now." he says, keeping pace with you for a change rather than marching ahead as he usually does.

"i didn't scream at you!" you attempt to defend yourself, but thinking back on it you change your mind. "alright, the second time maybe i did,"

"maybe."

"but the first time, i was very collected." you continue. "it was quite satisfying, to be honest."

"i suppose i deserved it." his gaze falls to the ground and, even though he's right – he did deserve it – you do feel a little bad.

"seriously, though," you continue, "thank you, for looking after me last night. you didn't have to, and i know you didn't want to, but i really appreciate it."

"anyone would'a done the same…" he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head. you get the feeling he's not used to people showing their appreciation for him, which only encourages you to carry on.

"and thanks for taking me in, i know having some random idiot in your house is the last thing you want." you give him a warm smile as he looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"well, you're not just any idiot, are you?" he says, earning a questioning tilt of your head. "you're sting. the idiot."

a genuine laugh escapes you, the first one in a long time, and you gently nudge ghost's arm with your elbow.

"oh, lovely, thanks mate." you chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. you see his eyes lift in a barely noticeable smile, the sight causing a warm feeling to bloom in your chest.

you arrive at the park fairly quickly, finding yourselves an out of the way bench to occupy under the partial shade of a nearby oak tree. you're enveloped by a comfortable silence as you both simply observe the beauty of nature and bask in the feeling of the sun on your face.

you're not sure how long the two of you sit there in each other's company, but you find yourself subconsciously drifting closer to him, close enough that your knees just about touch. you're sure he notices – there isn't much that gets by him – but he doesn't show it.

"did you hear they figured out how the fire started?" you keep your voice low to preserve the peaceful quiet, turning your head to look at him as you ask.

"oh yeah? how?"

"ugh…" you groan with the annoyance the memory bring up. "my stupid neighbour left a fucking candle burning all night, the twat."

"what a fuckin' idiot…" he glances briefly in your direction, a sympathetic frown on his face.

"i can never look at candles the same way again, they're tainted now." you drag a hand over your face and shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

there's another pause in the conversation as you stare ahead, watching the trees sway in the breeze and all the people going about their lives, everything cast in a golden glow from sun.

you don't want it to end, the way the two of you are now. this is the most you've ever spoken to echother, outside of arguments, and you really want to make the most of it.

"nice weather today, right?" you try to keep him talking to you, and you're considering the fact that he hasn't told you to shut up yet as a good sign.

"hm." ghost hums and leans his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. "you gonna ask me what my favourite colour is again?"

"c'mon, throw me a bone here." you turn your body to face him more. "actually what is it, though?"

"...green."

"i knew it!" you exclaim, a triumphant grin pulling at your lips. "it makes sense, you just have 'dark green' vibes."

"i'll take your word for it."

it's difficult to know what to talk about with him, seeing as you've never actually been friendly before and you've already used the only small talk question you could think of.

"hmm…" your eyes roam over the park, looking for something to give you an idea. eventually you land on a scrappy little white dog, with possibly the worst haircut you've ever seen. "look at that woman's dog," you point it out to ghost, snickering at the way it was resisting its owner as she pulled it along. "i feel bad for the little guy."

"is that a dog? thought it was an oversized rat."

"oh my god!" you snort a laugh, covering your mouth with a hand and throwing your head back. you hear ghost chuckle lightly beside you, and when you turn your head to look back at him you find him already looking at you.

all other thoughts leave your mind when you see how his eyes glow a golden colour in the light of the sun. you feel the tips of your ears heating up and quickly face forward again before he has a chance to notice.

luckily another distraction presents itself almost immediately, in the form of a well-dressed office worker sprinting past you at full speed.

"wow," you mutter, your eyes following him as he disappears around a bend in the path, "he's not hangin' about."

"maybe he left a candle burnin'." ghost looks back to you, a playful glint in his eyes you're not sure you've ever seen on him.

you can't help the grin that pulls at your lips at his terrible joke. "aw, ghost," you groan, gently shoving him as he chuckles at your reaction, "you're wrong for that one."

ghost slouches into the bench as you both look back out across the park, shifting so his thigh presses against yours ever so slightly. you're careful not to react, afraid that he'd pull away if you draw attention to the gesture, and resolve to just enjoy the rare closeness of his presence.

eventually you'd have to head back, but for now you were more than content to sit here and watch the world go by with him.

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hannieehaee · 4 months

Note

hii I loved loser!chan fics and I was wondering if you could do loser!jihoon as well? anyway you want works for me I’m just insane over jihoon being all subby and your fics are amazing!!!

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, sub!jihoon, afab reader, smut, dry humping, handjob penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2466

a/n: ive always thought of writing loser!jihoon u read my mind lmao i hope i made him loser enough <3

masterlist

jihoon wasnt too much of a social person. it had been like this throughout elementary and all the way too high school, even manifesting up until college. currently, he had his usual group of friends, but he was as still pretty much a very antisocial guy. he liked it this way. it kept things simple.

his lack of socialization, however, also came with a lack of social skills, which in very obvious fashion also meant he lacked experience in social situations; dating included.

his romantic life had been fully nonexistent thus far, making him fall far behind most of his friends, who were all thoroughly experienced in one way or another.

it's not like jihoon didnt have any interest in that area of his life. it was just that he was too shy. a bit of a loser too, to be honest. this was a trait of his that he had wanted to finally rid himself of, which wad how he ended up attending one of his good friend's mingyu's many frat parties.

this wasnt his usual scene. he had been invited to these gatherings multiple times, but always turned them down, knowing he could never keep up with his popular friends (not that he wanted to anyway; as he said, this was just not his scene). however, something his friend mingyu had said about a week back had caught his attention, making him insist that mingyu let him tag along this once.

he had been in the cafeteria at the time, looking across the room as he usually did while his friends engaged in conversation. he was the only member of the friend group who was not a member of the frat, so it was easy for him to blend in the background most times. this time, however, mingyu had caught sight of what was keeping jihoon so distracted. this had just gotten interesting.

it was you.

by some strike of luck, it turned out that mingyu knew who you were. you were a frequent attendee to his frat parties. he knew you pretty well, actually. had spoken to you a few times, and coincidentally knew you had a bit of a thing for his friend jihoon – at least that's what he gathered from your occasional inquiries as to where he was any time he'd be absent from mingyu's parties. mingyu had never attempted to hook you guys up before, but he had decided in that same moment that he liked you for jihoon, which only meant one thing; he had to play matchmaker.

considering jihoon's clear interest in you as he stared and stared while sighing at the pretty sight, mingyu felt very justified in not-so casually dropping the fact that you were usually in attendance to his parties, meaning that you'd very likely be at his following party. this caught jihoon's attention immediately, who tried to nonchalantly make some excuse as to why he'd wanna be in attendance this time around. mingyu considered it a mission accomplished and simply awaited the fateful day of the party.

at the party itself, mingyu immediately got to work, making sure jihoon remained alone and in close proximity to your location – also letting you know that jihoon was wandering somewhere in the frat house, taking note of your smile as he relayed that piece of information to you. as soon as he located the two of you and deemed the situation manageable for jihoon, he went his own way to party with his friends. he had a hunch that it'd work out on its own. he had seen you sneak a few glances at his friend tonight already, which gave him all the confidence to leave the two of you to eventually interact.

it didn't take long for the two of you to bump into each other at some lone corner of the frat (it's not like jihoon had been keeping track of your movements and making a calculated effort to incidentally bump into you in a not-so casual way). upon crossing paths, you immediately engaged in conversation, rendering jihoon slightly speechless at your friendly disposition.

although he had a hard time keeping up with your outgoing personality, – barely being able to mutter full responses as his eyes avoided yours at all costs – you seemed interested enough to suggest the two of you move onto a quieter part of the house in order to have a better chance at understanding each other.

that remote location manifested itself as mingyu's room, which had conveniently been left open for jihoon to access (something gyu had made sure to let jihoon know about, "in case he grew tired or something").

for some reason, sitting on the edge of the bed by your side as a booming party occurred downstairs felt a bit too intimate for jihoon, someone who was not used to any sort of interaction with women of any kind, much less the girl he'd been secretly crushing on for months. you seemed relaxed, though, simply maintaining sporadic conversation as the two of you enjoyed the muffled music coming from downstairs.

at some point you seemed to sense his unnerved state, deciding to call attention to it.

"parties not your thing?"

"oh, uh .. yeah. just not used to the environment , i guess."

"this is my first time seeing you at one of these. what changed?"

"h– how'd you know it's my first time?"

"i wouldve noticed you before."

oh. oh.

"why do you think i brought you in here, jihoon?"

"you know ... you know my name?"

you had scoot closer now, sitting side by side with your legs gracing against his, which were stuck together as he made himself as small as possible.

"of course i do. i've been keeping tabs on you jihoon."

he felt himself shiver at your proximity, despite the fact that everything was still very much friendly and platonic. but he couldnt help himself in feeling shy at the implications of being alone with you whilst sitting closely to each other on the bed.

"o- oh."

"jihoon? why wont you look at me? are you okay?", you took your hand and placed it under his chin, making sure he was now facing you.

your face was far too close to his, and the expression you carried was not one of worry, but one of want.

"n- no, i mean, yes. it's just–"

"just what, jihoonie?", you tilted your head, somehow coming into even closer proximity to his lips.

he gave up the clueless act first, being unable to control himself in his need for you.

"please ... just– please."

that was enough for you to close the gap, sighing softly against his lips as he froze, unknowing in what to do. his arms also remained on his sides as his posture stayed rigid. luckily for him, you didn't mind his temporary inactivity, simply urging him with your own hands and lips to take some action.

these notions were enough for him to nervously begin to kiss you back, copying all your movements as he opened his mouth to allow yours in. his hands were also now awkwardly resting on the small of your back as he leaned a bit towards you. it was all very awkward on his part, but he was truly having the time of his life as you made love to his mouth.

your kiss had quickly grown filthy, making jihoon's eyes roll back as he attempted to keep up. you only kissed him like this for a short while before pulling away breathless, inquiring for more.

"can i? will you let me take charge, jihoonie?", you said in a hot breath against his lips, eyes still glued to his pout.

"i– ive never ..."

"that's okay ... i'll show you, jihoon. ill make you feel good. i can ... i cant teach you."

he wasnt sure if you'd meant to sound like a siren's song when you said this but the effect was just the same, because he found himself breathlessly nodding in agreement, allowing you to lay him down as you straddled him on the bed.

just moments later and you were already starting a slow and sensual grind against his hips as you made a show of arching your back and throwing your head back at what was likely just minimal pleasure for you. for jihoon, however, it was the most action he'd ever gotten. he always assumed that his first act of intimacy with a girl would be a quick peck, not the girl of his dreams dry humping him on his friend's bed.

he took a leap by putting his hands on your hips, unable to control his moans and the way his hips pushed upwards a bit to match yours. this seemingly caught your attention, causing you to make eye contact with him once more before leaning down and connecting your lips.

once again, he was unable to help himself in kissing you back, although sloppy and inexperienced, he enjoyed your kiss all the same, nearly losing his mind at your ability to turn such a sweet act into one of pure desperation so quickly.

"always wanted you, jihoon ...", you breathed against his lips, "knew you were friends with gyu, so i kept coming here hoping to see you, but you never showed up. made me wait so long for you ..", you pouted.

"i– i didnt know. i wanted you too, i swear ..."

you gave him a sweet smile, caressing his cheek softly as your hips slowed down for a moment, "i know, hoonie ... which is why you're gonna be good for me, right, baby?"

"y– yes. i– anything. ill do anything you want, just–", he was interrupted with yet another kiss; a kiss which he instinctively gave back without even having to process it.

"anything? oh, jihoonie ... gonna have so much fun with you."

his confirmation had been enough for you to take further action. jihoon wasn't sure how it ended up happening, but eventually you had managed to undress the two of you, now sitting in the exact same position as before, – you on top of him as he laid back on the bed – except this time fully nude.

from the moment you'd thrown off your shirt, jihoon had been unable to stop staring at your tits. he didnt wanna sound like a total creep or anything, but he wouldve given anything to bury his head in them and never come back. luckily for him, you seemed to read his mind pretty well (re: took a hint from his endless staring and licking of his lips) and leaned down, enticing him to kiss your tits by bringing his face close to them.

with a quick nod in confirmation, jihoon went to town on your tits. he didnt know he had it in him, but his lips and tongue explored every inch of your breasts, breathing against them at how supple they felt under his touch. he drank in every single sigh you let out at the feeling, with his arousal growing to an extent he didn't know was possible.

"oh, hoonie ... fuck ... such a good boy. play with my tits, shit ..."

your hands eventually reached out to play with his dick, which he had been neglecting thus far. his actions halted upon the feeling of your warm hands encompassing him, jerking him in a way that had his kisses against your chest becoming even more sensual in nature as he moaned into your breasts.

"you– oh ... that's .... please ...."

"like it, baby? want me to keep playing with your dick?"

"yes, fuck. please! want–"

"but, baby ... dont you want my cunt?"

that statement took him to another planet altogether.

your cunt? you were going to fuck him? oh. oh.

the simple thought of you wrapping around him, bouncing up and down as he lost his mind under you almost had him cumming. the best he could do in that moment was lift his head from your chest and beg you to please let him have it as he kissed your lips.

you took advantage of his begging to lick his lips, teasing his tongue with your own as you positioned yourself to lower yourself on him. jihoon was sure you could feel his heartbeat almost beat straight out of his chest as you pressed your hand against his chest for support, but he didnt care. he wanted you to know how carnally he wanted you.

"this is your first time, right, baby?"

"yes, b– but its okay! i want it, i swear!"

"oh, i know, pretty ... just wanted to make sure. gonna make you mine after this. you know that, right?", you leaned down to kiss his neck as you said this, making him shiver at the thought, "gonna be my pretty little jihoon that only i get to have ..."

"yes ... yours, just– wanna be yours, please ..."

that was all you needed to finally sink down on him, moaning out at the feeling. similarly, he arched his back against the mattress at the warmth and tightness he felt around his cock; a pleasure he never knew was humanly possible.

you rode him like a champ, wasting no time in speeding up and he himself lost his mind. he couldnt help it when his hips began to cant up against yours, loving the way you threw your head back at the impact. at some point all rhythm between the two of you was lost, making you hump against each other like you were in heat.

"hoonie! gonna cum, please ... cum with me, pretty. wanna feel you cum."

"gonna cum for you ... feel so fucking good ...", he whined at you, knowing his end was right there.

the two of you cried out and held each other through your respective ends. his came slightly before yours, making him wince at the overstimulation as you tightened up around him after he had fully ridden his high. but the feeling was extremely pleasurable nonetheless.

laying down next to him, you cuddled up against his side, giving his chest a sweet peck before gesturing at him to look at you.

he felt shy making eye contact, but felt less so than before. he felt such a strong connection with you at this moment, smiling at knowing that you liked him back (at least going off on your rambles as you fucked him).

"i like you. so much," he interrupted whatever you were about to say, not even realizing his words until after he'd uttered them.

you chuckled at his widened eyes upon realizing what he'd said, "i know, hoonie. i like you too."

you stayed quiet after that, choosing to fall asleep in his arms as he held you against him. he wasnt sure what exactly came next, but he was content in that moment.

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her “Miss Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.” the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now. Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

“He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

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blushweddinggowns · 11 months

Text

Jonathan didn’t know how else to say it but…Steve Harrington was weird. Like really, really weird. And he wasn’t even talking about Steve and Eddie. He thought Harrington was plenty weird all on his own.

Jonathan really didn’t understand why Eddie was always marked as the strange one in the duo. To him, Eddie made perfect sense. Poor background, unique interests, drug dealer, loud and obnoxious as a coping mechanism, but still managing to be a pretty good guy all around. It was normal for a guy like that to be a little out there.

But Steve didn’t make any sense to him. Zero. Zilch.

Because he was rich, handsome, athletic, a total jock in every sense of the word. Half the school wanted to get in his pants, while the other half desperately tried to figure out how he got so many girls. By all accounts, he should be an asshole. Someone who basked in his own popularity, not someone who literally shunned it. Steve was the only person he’d ever met who had it all, and didn’t care.

All he seemed to care about was freaking Eddie Munson of all people. They had been attached at the hip since grade school and even with Eddie disappearing for two years, Steve was right back at his side nearly the moment he got back.

He didn’t go to parties, never bragged about his conquests unless someone asked, and even then he was always incredibly vague, and from what he’d heard from Nancy, he didn’t even sleep at his own house 90 percent of the time. If you were looking for Steve Harrington, all you really had to do was track down Eddie Munson.

Jonathan had only purchased weed a handful of times in his young life, but every single time Steve had been there. Either in the van waiting when Eddie dropped something off, or sitting right next to him on the park bench, popping gum and reading a comic book while Eddie did his business.

And he was…intensely protective over him. Which was weird considering how Munson was scary enough in his own right, at least on the outside. Like getting into multiple fights, protective. Making girls cry who had the audacity to say anything about Eddie’s antics, protective. Like cursing out an actual teacher, protective.

Like comforting your best friend after a near death experience instead of your literal girlfriend protective. Who did that? And maybe it hadn’t been official back then, but still. You’d think you’d spend time cuddling your crush in your lap instead of your childhood buddy. And there was also the weird hair smelling thing they kept doing. He hadn’t looked too closely at the time, but Steve had turned to bury his face in Eddie’s hair every few minutes after the 83 showdown. He hadn’t seen a repeat of that since, though. Maybe…maybe Eddie had gotten demon guts in his hair? And Steve had been trying to find the source?

He didn’t fucking know. He just…didn’t get him. And now he got him even less. The guy pulled freaking Nancy Wheeler as his girlfriend, and he didn't spend every possible waking moment with her?

But it wasn’t just him prioritizing Eddie over Nancy. It was the fact that he didn’t care that Nancy was with him more often than her actual boyfriend. Which was fantastic for Jonathan, even if it was a bit of a double edged sword. Because Nancy was gorgeous and so fucking smart and cool and…and Jonathan liked her so much he kind of wanted to die.

And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Even if he’d come close, way more than once. There were probably a dozen times where he’d almost kissed her. And the last one would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. They had been talking next to his car during lunch, Jonathan couldn’t even remember what it had been about. He just remembered that he had said something to make her laugh. And she looked so freaking beautiful when she laughed. She looked pretty all the time, but something about seeing her happy made her jump from a 10/10 to a 15.

The sun was in her hair, and her eyes crinkled in that cute way that he loved, and Jonathan had been leaning in before he knew it was happening. And if Steve and Eddie hadn’t walked by right in that moment, it would have happened. He had jumped nearly ten feet in the air when he spotted him out of the corner of his eye, fully expecting Steve to start tearing into him for being so close to his girlfriend.

But he just smiled and waved when he saw them, and went right back to their conversation before walking off.

See? Weird.

He didn’t know why it didn’t bother Nancy more, how little he cared about what the two of them were up to. Part of him was praying it was because she was falling out of love with him, and all of the romantic tension they had together wasn’t in his head.

But he just couldn’t bring himself to make that final step. Mostly because he was busy trying to take care of Will most of the time. Even if he got his way he wasn’t exactly in a position to be a good boyfriend. His little brother came first, especially after everything he had been through. And he was struggling, Jonathan could see it. And he spent most of his spare moments trying his damndest to get Will to open up. It hadn’t worked. But he kept trying.

But there was another part to it too. He…he didn’t want to be that guy. The kind of guy to make moves on a taken girl. Especially Steve’s girl. Both him and Eddie had risked their lives last year helping them out, and what? He was going to thank them by breaking Steve’s heart? He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Even if Eddie wanted him to. Which was just one more thing he didn’t get, the weird encouragement Eddie would give him when it came to his best friend’s girlfriend. If Jonathan mentioned a movie he wanted to see, preferably with her, Eddie would always be sure to keep Steve busy on friday nights for her to be free. If Jonathan had his mom’s car for a week and really wanted to be the one to pick her up in the morning, Eddie would conveniently find a reason that Steve couldn’t.

It was weird, and kind of fucked up, but Jonathan had at least a small idea on why he was doing it. It was pretty obvious, after you got a little closer to the two of them. Eddie was in love with Steve. But Steve wasn’t in love with Eddie, not when he had Nancy on his arm. It explained why he monopolized all of his time, why he hung around them on their dates, why he was so open to letting another guy swoop in on her.

He never actually asked him about it. It felt like a fucked up thing to say, especially if he was wrong. But Jonathan couldn’t think of any other explanation. So he kind of just…went with it. At this point it felt like he was Eddie’s co-conspirator to break them up, even if it was never explicitly said.

Which was fucked up, on both their ends. Yeah Steve was weird, and kind of a bitch, but he was a good guy all in all. He was Eddie’s best friend for a reason.

So Jonathan held back his feelings. Or at least he did for as long as he could. But then Nancy came to him for help to expose the Hawkins lab. And they ended up on this crazy fucking adventure together. And he just fell more and more in love with every wild stunt she did.

And then they kissed at Murray’s and Jonathan didn’t have the strength to say no. How could he? It just…happened. And okay yes. He feels bad for Steve. But he doesn’t regret it. Not even slightly. And maybe that made him the biggest asshole in the world, but it was hard to care when Nancy freaking Wheeler wanted him of all people.

It was pretty easy to shove the guilt right out of his mind. That was until they saw Steve and Eddie next, right in front of the Hawkins lab. Steve had instantly brightened at the sight of her, immediately sweeping her up into a big hug.

And Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to watch it. He just couldn’t. Because that was probably going to be the last time they hugged like that. He was already in too deep and there was no way in hell that he was going to let last night be a one night stand. He hadn’t exactly asked Nancy to break up with him yet, but he was going to.

Because he was a dick like that, apparently. But maybe they could find a way to do it…kindly? If that was even possible. And if there was anyone who would be able to help soften the blow for Steve, it would be Eddie Munson.

Jonathan walked up to him as the other two started talking. He jerked his head to the side, “Hey can I talk to you for a second?”

Eddie nodded, following him over to a safe distance from the car. He didn’t really think Eddie would be mad at him for what he did. But he was still a little nervous to say it out loud.

He avoided saying what he truly wanted, deflecting with a question, “So um, Steve and Nancy, how uh, serious are they?”

Eddie stared at him like he’d magically grown a second head, “Huh?”

“They’ve almost been together for like a year now right?” Jonathan pressed, “Is he…y’know. In love with her?”

But Eddie was still looking at him like he’d asked something insane. He narrowed his eyes at him, “Are…are you kidding me right now?”

“What?” Jonathan asked, almost as equally confused as Eddie, “Why would I be kidding?”

Eddie raised a brow at him, “You think Steve and Nancy are dating? For like, real? After all this time? After last year. That’s what you think?”

Jonathan really wished Eddie would just tell him what the hell he was talking about instead of emphasizing every other word. He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling oddly defensive when he asked, “What else am I supposed to think?”

He hadn’t expected Eddie to bark out a laugh at the question. It took a second for him to compose himself to talk again while Jonathan looked on, more confused than ever.

Eddie eventually straightened, holding a fist in front of his mouth while he struggled for the words, “Jonathan, dude, last year you saw me in his lap. With my arms around his neck. While he kissed me to make me feel better.”

Jonathan blinked at him, “Huh?”

He hadn’t remembered the kissing part. And in his defense he had been a bit distracted with the news that his brother was alive. But the hair smelling thing…had…had Steve been kissing the top of his head that whole time? Right in front of him?

Eddie looked way too amused at Jonathan’s shock, “So what do you think that means bud? Is that something you do with your friends?”

“But Nancy! And all the other girls-”

“Fake, fake, fake and fake,” Eddie said with a grin, “That boy’s all mine. And has been for years. Him and Nance are just friends. Really good friends but that’s it.”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, voice softening a little but still a little too tickled for Jonathan’s liking, “We all kind of thought you knew man. I guess I underestimated our own acting skills there.”

Jonathan slowly nodded, even though his brain was still struggling to catch up with everything he’d said. But it made sense. It actually made perfect sense. That’s why Steve didn’t care that he was all over her, that’s why Eddie had been so encouraging, that’s why Steve was so fucking weird. The guy had been basically married since he was in third grade.

“Holy shit,” Jonathan finally breathed out, “That makes so much sense.”

But then a realization hit him, “Wait, so all of this time Nancy has been single?”

“And ready to mingle,” Eddie added with a wink, “Though if it helps, you’re the only one she’s set her sights on. That and Tom Cruise but I think you still have good odds.”

As wonderful as that revelation was, it kind of also made him want to smash his head into a wall. How could he have been so blind?

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, like he could read his mind, “We do actually try to hide it most of the time. It’s not completely your fault for not seeing the hints.”

He only had one more question, a stupid one but he still wanted to be sure, “So um, hypothetically. If I, uh, slept with his fake girlfriend, he wouldn’t be mad about it?”

Eddie laughed, “He’d be ecstatic. Half the time those two talk is about you. He’s been waiting for you to make a move as long as Nancy has. And he will definitely get a kick out of this conversation when I tell him, that’s for damn sure.”

Jonathan nodded. That was…some pretty fantastic news. Besides the sting that he could have had her weeks or even months ago, it was a good fucking feeling to know that they hadn’t done anything wrong. It was kind of weird, knowing that Steve Harrington of all people was gay. But he didn’t care. That might have been how his dad tried to raise him, but his mom had stopped all the homophobic shit the second he ditched.

He was raised better than to judge two people for being happy together. And the fact that they trusted him with something so big made him feel…kind of special. Definitely not like an asshole. The two of them wandered back to Steve and Nancy and Eddie didn’t hesitate to pull him into his arms.

Jonathan watched as he whispered something to him before kissing his cheek, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And for them it probably was. He saddled next to Nancy. He didn’t exactly have the confidence to be that affectionate in public like those two did, but he’d like to work his way up to it. He gently took her hand in his, blushing at the way it made her smile.

She squeezed his hand back before shuffling a little closer to lean into him. He didn’t have much time to indulge in it, not when the lights all suddenly came back on. But as they all hurried inside, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

From the latest chapter of this fic

#steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #jancy #the universe trapped in your skin #stranger things #steddie #pov outsider #season 2 rewrite #secret relationship steddie #steddie childhood friends au #nancy and steve bffs #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers

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raineydays411 · 9 months

Text

My Father's Daughter pt 14

Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?

Dark.

That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.

But then there was a light.

A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.

"Hello."

Who the fuck was that?

"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.

"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."

You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.

"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."

Panic floods your body.

You finally realized what is happening.

They got you.

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

" What do you mean she's gone?!"

Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"

Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."

Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.

They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.

They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.

Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.

Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.

Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.

By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.

You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.

The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.

His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.

But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.

They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.

"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"

Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."

Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."

Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"

Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."

Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"

And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.

Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.

Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.

But she was afraid.

Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.

"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"

"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.

" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner

"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."

The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.

"Woah..harsh Jeeves"

Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.

"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"

"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"

Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.

"Who are you."

Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.

"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"

The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.

"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."

Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"

"They got her."

"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.

Except for Jason.

"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"

Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."

Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."

Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.

There's a heavy silence that fills the air.

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

Panic fills your veins.

"That will be the first thing to go."

Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.

Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.

This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.

You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.

You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.

And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-

"Ah, you're aware."

A woman came in this time.

"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."

She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.

"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."

Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.

"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."

You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.

" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."

She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?

"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."

You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.

"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."

Wait what?

"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"

A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.

"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."

You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.

"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.

'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."

"Wait..what?"

"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.

"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."

While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."

That's when you knew.

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

Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.

All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.

It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.

Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.

"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"

"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."

"Well it's better than sitting here all-"

Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.

He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.

But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.

He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known

And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.

"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts

"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.

Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.

When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.

*ring* *ring*

"Talk to me."

"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"

"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."

"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"

A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"

"Peter, what are you saying?"

"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."

......

"Give me your location, we'll be right there."

#marvel x reader #marvel #tony stark x daughter!reader #reader insert #dc comics x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #x reader #bruce wayne x daughter!reader

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beardedjoel · 6 months

Text

sugar rush

joel miller x f!reader

event masterlist prompt: your desperate neighbor, joel miller, runs out of candy for the trick-or-treaters and comes to you. it turns out you've both been keeping a secret from each other; 4.7k words warnings: mostly cute fluff and pining, makeout sesh, they stay flirting, joel miller is a gentleman *saluting emoji* a/n: loved writing a fluffy little piece for my ppcu darlings for this event, happy halloween and i hope everyone enjoys all the fics we've been writing for you all!

The last thing you’d wanted was to do something extravagant for Halloween this year. You watched friends planning to go out to parties, ones with kids plotting all their family costumes. But what you really want is a peaceful night in, passing out candy and eating popcorn with a scary movie in the background, spending time in your own cozy cocoon. Work has been relentless the last few months, stressful and draining, and you’re happy to just relax with candy stolen from your candy bowl for the trick-or-treaters.

The first hour of little ones comes and goes, all of their costumes more adorable than the last, getting a chance to quickly catch up with some of your neighbors as they pass through. It’s just the evening you wanted, you convince yourself once again as you listen carefully to your popcorn in the microwave to make sure you don’t overcook it.

You feel a twinge deep inside, maybe some kind of loneliness hitting you while you feel the emptiness of your home pressing in on your heart. You’d not been having the best luck with dating recently, you knew that, and refused to believe the real reason was that there was someone you were interested in, but didn’t have the heart to pursue it. So instead, you had spent the better part of this week persuading yourself you were happy to spend the holiday by yourself, to get this much needed alone time.

You silently thank the universe when your doorbell rings again, bringing you out of your thought train that was heading towards a swift derailing into depression. You put on a smile before whipping the door open, expecting another group of kids dressed to the nines. Instead, your eyes flick up from child height to your neighbor, Joel Miller. He’s standing in a faded black band t-shirt that’s hugging his biceps, and when you finally pull your eyes to his face, it’s adorned with a shy little smile on his lips. His hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it a few too many times today, tousled and sticking up, and his tan skin looks somehow stunning in the shitty light of your porch. How he manages to look this good all the time baffles you.

“Joel? Um, hey,” you stutter out awkwardly, hoping he can’t see that your cheeks now feel like they’re burning as they always do when you meet his intense, chocolatey gaze. “Here to trick or treat? I’m not sure what your costume is, though.”

Joel chuckles, his face lighting up and you feel your insides warm at the fact that you made him laugh. “Wish I was, but no. I actually, er…” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I ran out of candy, was hopin’ I could…” he says, the last part more quiet, half hoping you didn’t hear his embarrassing confession.

“Oh, y-you need some?” you reply, fidgeting your fingers in front of you. You glance over at your candy bowl, still over half full - you tend to go overboard on most things, and this was no exception. Anxiety had taken over you in the grocery store aisles and made you a different person, filling your cart with way more candy than accounted for kids in your neighborhood.

“I figured, y’know, think I might know ya best around here, and well, your light was on. The McCarthy’s don’t seem to be participatin’ this year.”

You have a flurry of emotions - amusement at Joel’s predicament, excitement that he’d chosen to come to you, and absolute screaming, jumping up and down joy that he’d thought he knew you the best of all his neighbors. The outside of you nowhere near matches the inside as you just give him a sweet, reserved smile.

“Those cranky bastards,” you say with a chuckle that Joel reciprocates. “Well, come on in, you can have some of mine. It’s kind of slowed down the last little while, though. But feel free to take whatever you need. Lord knows I don’t need this much leftover candy in my house tomorrow.”

“I’d kinda like to see you runnin’ around your lawn with a sugar rush, though,” Joel teases as he steps inside and you close the door behind him. Your brows raise slightly in surprise - Joel seems in an uncommonly great mood tonight. Not that he’s unkind, by any means, he’s just not typically the most chipper person you’ve ever met.

“Not so funny when I crash and pass out and you have to drag me back inside,” you quip back to him, and his smile goes a little crooked, which sets your heart jumping inside your chest. You’d been harboring a bit of a crush - okay, more than a crush, you admit to yourself - on your neighbor for a while now, too afraid to say anything about it, or even flirt too forwardly most of the time for fear of rejection. You figured he was just a nice guy, and you had helped each other out in a pinch a few times, attended a few of the same barbecues, or waved as you passed by. You’d fallen more quickly for his gorgeous little accent and rugged looks than you’d cared to admit to yourself, and these feelings didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon. You’d even started to wonder lately if the reason your dating life hadn’t been the most lively and successful was that you were still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel felt the same way about you.

“Might be kinda a good look for me - neighborhood hero an’ all, savin’ you,” he says, his smile growing a bit.

You roll your eyes playfully, feigning hurt. “And at my expense? That’s cold, Joel Miller.”

Joel laughs and holds up a small bag he’d brought over, hoping to take home his spoils. He’s filling it when the doorbell rings another time, and you start a little, so caught up in watching his broad, muscled form moving. You rush over to open it to a few small kids standing outside, not over the age of eight or so, all screaming TRICK OR TREAT! You laugh heartily and greet them all, gushing about how perfect their costumes are. You hold out your bowl of candy to them, letting them choose what they’d like and they all giggle at your compliments and little jokes.

Joel has stopped to stare, enamored with your sweetness in this moment, how good you are with the kids. Hell, Sarah is much older than these three little ones, but he’d seen how good you are with her, too. She seems to adore you, asking after you any time it’s been a while since she’s seen you. Joel’s lips tug up into a smile, just now noticing how cute your Halloween pajamas are - black bottoms with little jack-o-lantern’s printed all over them and a black tank top. Now that he was noticing, he tries not to bite his lip when he sees just how tight the tank top is, how well it hugs your body as it slides up along your back a little when you bend down towards the kids’ level.

You wave your goodbye and turn back to Joel, face glowing from the big grin you’d put on for the kids.

“So cute, right?” you say, hiking a thumb over your shoulder towards the front door.

“Miss that age,” Joel murmurs before he can stop himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t wallow too much tonight, and here he was telling the first person who had the misfortune of talking to him. Sarah chose to do a sleepover at a friend's house tonight, the first Halloween she was spending that didn’t involve Joel. Sure, they’d done the pumpkin patch and carved them after, apple picking with Sarah fulfilling her promise to bake Joel an apple crisp, and watched some of their favorite scary movies together. It still hurt that his little girl was Trick or Treating in another neighborhood without him tonight, maybe one of her last ones ever as she neared those teenage years.

“S-sorry, didn’t mean -” Joel starts, cutting himself off from the deep thoughts he’d tumbled into.

“No, hey, it’s okay. Sarah’s got plans tonight, I take it?” you ask, sincerity and compassion sparking in your eyes. Joel finds himself dangerously close to falling into those two pools, your sweet soul shining through as you look at him.

“Mhm,” Joel replies, scratching a hand through his beard. “She uh, wanted to do somethin’ at a friends’. Don’t blame her, just… y’know, one of those things.”

You give Joel a sympathetic half-smile, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Joel. That is tough. I’ll bet she’s feeling a bit sad about it too, even if she’s having fun.”

“Better miss her old man at least a little bit,” Joel replies, trying to lighten the mood.

“Old man? I don’t see any old men in here,” you say, gazing around the room with a fake curiosity, your brow furrowed. Joel spits out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Too kind, darlin’. For that, and the candy.” He holds up the bag full of candy and starts towards the door. Your heart lurches every time he throws out one of his Southern little pet names, and you have to forcibly keep your face neutral as you bask in it. “Well, uh, thanks. I owe you,” Joel finally says.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth and worry with it as Joel’s hand seems to inch towards the door in slow motion.

“W-wait,” you say, before you’ve even realized the word has left your mouth. “I was watching a movie - would you want to, um, stay and watch with me? Pass out candy together?”

Joel blinks a few times, and you feel your stomach sink, until he breaks out in a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing a bit.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Oh,” you nearly start, mostly having expected him to say no for some reason. Maybe you just haven’t accepted the fact that Joel does seem to enjoy your company as much as you do his. “Great,” you flash a smile, gesturing over to the couch. You walk over and sit down, and Joel follows closely behind, peering around at your setup.

“Popcorn ready and everythin’,” Joel comments with an impressed whistle, settling onto the couch next to you, the distance between you enough that you’re hoping you can stay focused on the movie. His warmth radiates though, his broad shoulders looking so damn big, fuck, on your couch and his legs spread open as he relaxes back a bit. You try to make your shaky exhale as discreet as possible before grabbing the popcorn bowl from the table and plopping it between the two of you.

“What are we watchin’, then?”

“Killer Lake 3. oOooh,” you tell him, wiggling your fingers in an attempt to make it sound creepier, but Joel just laughs and shakes his head at you, running his fingers over tired eyelids.

“Ain’t seen that one yet, makes me kinda nervous, that uh, whole series,” he admits, and you kind of like the idea of knowing something small and intimate about him, something vulnerable.

“Me too,” you admit, holding back a chuckle, your hand over your mouth.

Joel sits forward, shooting you an incredulous look. “And yet you were watchin’ this… all alone in your house?”

“It’s called living on the edge, or something,” you reply with a laugh. “Besides, not alone anymore, am I? I’ve got a victim to suffer with me.”

Joel huffs and crosses his arms. “Just play the damn thing before I can chicken out.” He settles back again, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him as he never fully relaxes, his body taut while he keeps his arms tucked into each other. You find yourself hoping that at least part of the reason he seems tense is he’s just as nervous as you are to be sitting so close on the couch together, able to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, the scent of the other person permeating the space. You try not to breathe in too noticeably when you catch the smell of him - musky, a little outdoorsy, and something else a little less like his natural scent, an aftershave or deodorant. It’s all equally intoxicating, you think to yourself, trying not to let your brain become too muddled by it.

The doorbell rings several times while you two are watching, each time you and Joel pause the movie to coo over the little trick or treaters together. You feel your heart flutter at the thought of those who don’t know you two, who would think you’re just any other couple living together. Your insides are nearly bursting at the thought, not realizing just how badly you’d wanted that with Joel, this sweet domesticity. Now that it was within your reach, a little taste of it playing over in your mind, you don’t know how to go back to how things were before this night.

The movie still isn’t finished when 8:30 hits, but you get up to turn the porch light off, signaling the end of the trick or treaters for the night. Joel stands up awkwardly in your living room, hands fiddling in front of his belly. He clears his throat and glances at the carpeting before he looks back up to you.

“Love to stay, and finish the movie off, if that’s alright,” Joel offers before you can even say anything, and you nod eagerly. “Couldn't leave you all alone with this scary shit now.”

“My hero,” you tease, calling back to your earlier conversation. You clasp your hands over your heart with a grin, and Joel chuckles, rubbing his neck.

When you two sit back down, you start to realize that every time you've gotten up from the couch to give out candy and sat back down, you and Joel have gotten a little more comfortable, bodies less rigid and tense, able to sit a little bit closer to each other. You realize you’ve barely been paying attention as the movie plays again when Joel makes a sound at something happening on the screen, so you try to focus so he can’t tell just how affected you are by his presence or how lost in thought you are.

“S-shit,” Joel calls out, jumping a bit in his seat, clutching his chest with one hand. The other one flies over to your thigh, where he holds on for dear life, squeezing you there. He quickly pulls it off, before you can even fully register it, trying at the last second to memorize the feeling but coming up short, too stunned to even believe that it really happened. Joel seems to tear his gaze from the movie, both of his hands clutched in his lap, fiddling nervously.

“I’m - uh, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Just got me jumpin’, didn’t mean to, well…” Joel stutters out, gesturing to your leg. You’re sure if the room was more light, you’d see a flush creeping over his cheeks. He can’t believe he’s embarrassed himself in front of one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever known, one he’s sure is completely out of his league. It hasn’t stopped him from being excited to see you every time he’s had the pleasure of getting to have a conversation with you or simply see you pass by his house on a walk or run. He’s in deep, he knows it, and now he may have just ruined his chance to reveal his feelings to you the right way.

“Oh,” you say plainly. “It’s totally fine, I nearly did the same thing,” you say with a chuckle, trying to laugh it off.

You feel the skin on your thigh buzz beneath your pants where his hand had been for that brief second though, and your heart doesn’t seem to be interested in calming down its incessant thundering. You want more, you want to feel his hand back right where it was, the strength of his arm slung around your shoulder, his touch nearly anywhere on your body. You’ve never been alone with Joel this long and it’s starting to get to you, sending your mind reeling.

That brief touch suddenly has you gathering up your courage, so you turn your body to face Joel a little better and breathe in deeply.

Now or never.

Your heart thuds harder and your stomach tightens into knots, but you strengthen your resolve and square your body a little, trying to give yourself a false confidence.

“Actually…” you say, clearing your throat quietly. Joel’s attention quickly snaps from the television back to your face, and you nearly lose any semblance of bravery at his gaze locked so firmly on yours. “I didn’t mind, at all. If you wanted to do that again, or anything like that, uh, maybe,” you tell him, cursing yourself for stumbling on your words, for making it sound so unsexy to ask him to put his hand on your thigh.

You pull your lips inward and press them together, sure that your widened eyes are giving away the complete terror you feel as you await his reply. It feels like years creep by of his face looking completely taken aback until you see the corner of his mouth twitch up, his eyes starting to go a little softer with a twinkle in them.

“What, like, uh,” Joel clears his own throat now. “Like this?”

His hand slides over from his lap, much slower and intentional this time, landing on your thigh, right above your knee. It feels like heaven - his grip firm and protective but also soft and caring at the same time. His fingers flex a little, giving away his nervousness before he settles on a few errant rubs of his thumb.

“Yeah” You give him a toothy smile. “Like that.”

“Wouldn’t mind one bit if you wanted to hold onto me, an’ all that. Since the movie’s so scary, ‘course,” Joel says, sounding more bashful than you’ve ever heard him with his voice lowered.

You feel yourself smiling wider and wider, your face nearly feeling like it’s going to crack soon with the excitement you feel. Joel’s own heart is fluttering more than it has in ages and he wills it to calm down before he gets too excited about his crush, for Christ’s sake, simply cuddling with him.

“Of course, since the movie’s so scary,” you tease, biting your lip anxiously. You tentatively scoot closer to Joel, pressing your thighs flush with his as you curl up on the couch, tucking your feet up next to you on the opposite side. You bring your hand up to his bicep, wrapping it around the muscle before gingerly laying your head onto his shoulder. Every movement feels a little stiff at first, testing these new and exciting waters with each other.

Joel lets out a quiet hum of satisfaction, one he’s not sure that you heard until you sigh lightly in response and his heart leaps along with yours, the two of you tensely holding one another. Joel feels you start to relax first, your attention half back on the movie, and he takes the initiative to let go of some of his own tension, letting his hand wander a bit more on your thigh.

By the end of the movie, you and Joel are entwined together, his arm slung behind your shoulders, your hands clasped together and palms sweaty from the intensity of the film and being so close to each other. You’ve migrated onto the top of Joel’s chest, resting your head there. Joel thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he keeps getting delicious whiffs of your shampoo at that angle - a scent he tries to burn into his memory for when this evening inevitably ends.

When the credits start to roll, neither of you move, not wanting to break whatever spell it seems the two of you are under. Joel reaches for the remote, turning the movie off before tossing it aside and resting a finger under your chin. He gently pushes, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The little, curious noise you let out at his touch makes Joel’s insides instantly turn to fire, his body tensing up and muscles going taut. Just the touch of his calloused finger under your soft chin has a heat licking up your spine, then settling deep inside your gut.

“This was nice,” you murmur, now looking up at him and blinking slowly. He can hardly believe that the look in your eye - the starry, eager, content look - has anything to do with him. His eyes drift down to where your lips look so pouty and inviting right now, parted slightly as you wait to hear from him.

Joel leans forward a little, sliding his fingers up from your chin to your cheek, cupping it softly. He brushes his lips across yours, so lightly you can barely feel it at first, sensing his hesitancy. You meet him in the middle, and you can feel the smile on his lips as they meet yours in full, pressing into you with a romantically soft kiss. You moan wantonly into it, having wanted and dreamed of this moment countless times. Your hand cups his face in return, gently scratching your fingers through his beard and he lets out his own satisfied groan now before pulling away.

“That okay?” he asks quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Joel,” you say, your own voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wanting that to happen for like, almost a year now, so yes.”

Joel blinks hard in surprise. “That long?” he asks, his tone going lower with suggestion as his brows quirk a little. He keeps his hand on your cheek, rubbing along your jawline with his thumb.

“Mhm. That long,” you murmur with a nod, closing the small gap between your faces once more as you press your lips into his. You make a small moaning sound deep in your throat and barely pull your lips off of his to utter feels nice.

Your enthusiasm urges Joel on, a quiet groan making its way out of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sliding his hand from your cheek up to the back of your head and burying it in your hair. His fingers along your scalp feels so heavenly that you can’t help the satisfied mewl that comes out of you.

Joel’s hands start to explore a little more, curving down your back with a firm touch, his fingers tracing along your spine. You nearly shudder and then gasp when his calloused pads find their way underneath the bottom of your tank top, touching bare skin now, the heat of his hands blazing into you. You can feel how heavily you’re breathing already, the tension building and nearly unbearable. It feels like a dream, this moment you’d thought so much about happening, wishing for his touch and his lips and his body just like this. Your hands wrap around his neck to keep him pulled close, desperately trying to keep this moment from slipping away from you.

He surprises you by lifting you onto his lap, hands enveloping your plush hips as he tugs you over to straddle him. You gladly and willingly move your body along to where he guides you, settling on top of his lap with your heart beating out of your chest. It all feels so natural but has you giddy, nearly jumping out of your skin with the quickening pace of your kisses. Your bodies meld to one another effortlessly, your hips sinking down further into his lap as you grind a little into each other.

Every movement, touch, and synced breath is pure bliss as you two continue devouring everything the other is putting out, tongues dancing with one another and now swollen lips pressing into each other. All the pent up longing and burning desire coursing through you now has an outlet, and you try to hold back a moan that pushes up through your throat to not seem too desperate, but Joel beats you to it, a little groan slipping past his lips. He pulls away slowly, peppering the corners of your mouth with a few kisses before slowly opening his eyes, now gazing at you with a heady, half-lidded look. You meet his expression curiously, your heart still thundering as you lazily scratch along the back of his neck.

“W-would it make me look like a complete idiot if I said,” Joel starts, keeping his hands steadily wrapped around your hips, fingers still splayed all the way to your ass. “I wanna take y’on a date before we go any further? Know it’s old fashioned, but…”

You laugh quietly, sincere and sweet, at his honesty and apprehension, watching his cheeks reddening and mouth a little agape as he awaits your reply. You palm his chest with your free hand, spreading your fingers out and brushing them dotingly across the fabric of his tee shirt.

“Not at all,” you tell him, your voice coming out a little cracked, planting a chaste kiss on his lips, savoring the way they mingle so quickly into yours without hesitation. “I think I’d like that, too,” you add on, giving him an encouraging smile.

You see him breathe out, shoulders sagging in relief while his mouth twitches upwards. “Good,” he sighs, “‘Cause I really wanna take you out, darlin’. Been wantin’ to…” he says with a lopsided smile now, leaning back in for another kiss.

“Maybe I’ve been wanting to, too,” you tease, leaning your head down to rest on his shoulder, snuggling into him, letting the moment become comfortable, any expectations on the two of you lifted for now.

“Couldn’t tell or anythin’, by the way you hopped on top of me,” Joel jokes, breaking the tension even more. It feels like any other day, now, like you tease each other while you curl yourself up on his lap all the time. It amazes you how little discomfort or awkwardness you feel right now around Joel despite the major shift in your relationship only moments ago.

“You pulled me up here, you ass,” you quip back, lightly hitting him on his other shoulder.

“That I did, sugar,” he says more sweetly now, kissing your forehead, warm and sticky. “Wanna go out w’me this Friday, then?” he asks, and you pick your head up to smile at him, tenderly curling your fingers around his cheek, still getting used to the feeling of touching him so freely.

“Friday? Not sooner?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip and trying to give him your best version of sweet, pleading eyes.

“Eager, are you?”

You kiss him again in reply, letting your tongue slip into his mouth again and he meets it hungrily with his own, his hands snaking around your back to your ass and squeezing the globes greedily. You can feel his arousal, pressing hard where your warm heat meets his, thighs gripping around his legs tightly. He has to practically tear himself away and you can see the mischief in his dark eyes growing by the second.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, a little breathless now. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” You slip off of his lap and plop next to him on the couch again, stifling a yawn now that you’re coming down from the quick boost of adrenaline your make-out session with Joel had given you.

“I should head out, but…” Joel says when he notices your tiredness, putting a warm hand on your thigh. “I’m lookin’ forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you reply with a wide grin. You stand up from the couch with him, walking to the door together with your fingers brushing, not seeming to want to be without the other’s touch.

“Pick you up right here at 6:00 tomorrow, yeah?” Joel stands in your open doorway, lingering on shifting feet as you nod in agreement. He leans in and captures your lips in another kiss, this one feeling just as new as the others and you instantly lose yourself to it, breathing in his scent and memorizing the feel of his plush lips on yours for the final time tonight.

“Goodnight,” you say quietly, planting one more peck on his cheek, wiry stubble around his beard tickling your lips. He ambles down your walkway, and while you’re admiring the view, leaning against your doorframe he turns back, giving you a sheepish, crooked smile.

“Hey,” he says, stopping where he stands. “Happy Halloween, darlin’,”

You can’t help the smile that bursts onto your face, your heart soaring at the adorable pet name, the locks of Joel’s hair sticking out in all directions, and the near puppy dog eyes he’s giving you right now. This right here, this Joel Miller is one you know not everybody is lucky enough to see, and you’re so grateful you’re getting a glimpse of it tonight.

You lift a hand and wave as you step back inside and call out to him.

“Happy Halloween, Joel.”

dividers from saradika !

#halloween event #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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tarjapearce · 6 months

Text

Chapter 3: Innocent As A Lamb

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Emotional distress, mild comfort, angst, subtle hints of ptsd, more character background, confrontation, lies exposed, mild physical aggression, mentions of abortion,

Summary: Miguel isn't used to consequences.

Pt. 4

A/N: Finally got this down ❤️. Hope to live up to this jskjs.

We have to talk. Meet me at the parking lot.

The message had truly confused him, he wasn't one for texting, much less engaging into something so vain and boring like making acquaintances in work, unless they provided something substantial he could use in his favor. Had someone spread out his number again?

The thought made his lips morph into a smirk. Was this another crazed woman obsessed over him he didn't know about, even though some of the lab staff knew he was engaged?

Miguel wasn't immune to gossips, yet being the reason of one, was borderline amusing. It was rare when they managed to actually divert his attention to anything that wasn't work or Dana.

The latter however seemed more vexing and pestering than usual, he truly couldn't identify a culprit. But the ways of making up kept a smile on his face for long enough until the cycle repeated itself again.

Once married things would likely turn for the worse. Dana had been already increasing her control over him and viceversa. Always caught up in the neverending power play that somehow he ended up winning with flying colors. A sore loser and a bad winner.

Thrilling at first, but now everything but fun. Miffing in fact. And it showed in his eyes whenever she wasn't around but still, she managed to sour or dull his expression either via calls or messages.

He had been with her for long enough, but the benefits she offered were way too rewarding to let go. He knew what he represented in Dana's life.

A rich, hunk and trophy soon-to-be husband.

But as long as he was left unbothered while working or having her shut up, he didn't care. In fact, he flipped a finger on life long time ago and ever since none of his irreverence and cynism stopped.

He tossed the briefcase in the car and then hopped in, after confirming a dinner date, for the umpteenth time with her future bride and torment.

She loved getting under his skin, but he enjoyed enough in getting inside her to quiet her down enough to leave him alone. It was like sex was one of the only true reasons they remained together, no matter how much they disguised it as love. A long term lust that had sufficed them both enough to go by.

Cause in truth, love had been shoved to the back of the shelf and forgotten after the two year mark. Complacency takin it's place.

A new array of seasonings like jealousy, disrespect, cheating had joined the rack, casting a deep shadow over love, pushing it to the very end of the already malnourished emotional ledge.

Straying away from what had originally brought them together yet unable to let go. Yet again complacency had made both too cozy and lazy to expand their horizons in meeting new sort of people and shaping new bonds. Perpetuating the Chernobyl-like situation brewing between the both to a new level.

He never looked back. Always moving forward either the good or bad way, but moving. Not stopping for nothing and anyone, something he had learned from the least suspecting person in his life. His biological father. Tyler had showed him through actions, and not precisely in a healthy way. He had learned all that someone must never teach a man.

Liar, deceiver, manipulator, and so many more things that one would never believe if someone said 'Miguel O'Hara is a cheater.' Way too disingenuous to keep a remarkable reputation of a recluse and engaged genetic engineer.

But of course, there was a big chance someone had messaged him by accident. He blocked the number a couple of minutes later after receiving it.

He drove away.

"Pregnant?"

MJ's stonishment was upsetting. Not because you hadn't told her, but rather the circumstances the life changing event were conceived.

Her face paraded with so many emotions since it was hard to not feel something wrong about it, and the whole fiasco screamed and thrashed with all sorts of wrongness.

But even so, the absence of a judging stare made your senses to relax a bit, even if you were sprawled in your bed and her hands caressed your hair in a measly attempt to soothe your frying nerves. Her motherly antics paid off for a bit.

"He knows, right?"

Your silence earned a blasé sigh from the redhead.

"How is he going to know he fucked up if you don't tell him!?"

"It's not as simple as you think, MJ. He's sneaky. I sent him a text message, and surprise, he blocked the number."

Mary Jane blinked a couple of times, processing your mumblings.

"My goodness what a dick!."

"He is. Just... I'll tell him."

"Do you think he's gonna-"

"Tell me to fuck off?. That's for sure. If anything, I've already taken a choice."

"And, are you sure of it?"

With a shaky breath you sat on the bed, facing your best friend. A script writer and part of a theatrical troupe. You had met her after going on a date with a guy that was obsessed over the company's plays.

And most importantly, a mother of a one year old you had scarcely seen and met, just like her husband. Two times to be precise. In her wedding and MJ's baby shower. But her baby, a lovely girl called Mayday was always present in her phone's gallery.

"I am sure. I... I'm so not ready for this." You bit your inner cheek briefly, "I don't wanna be a mom. Much less knowing that my hypothetical child would be the next Cain."

MJ shot a confused look your way.

"You know, God punished him with a permanent mark on his forehead so none would kill him."

"Right" her ginger brow raised at your words

"But it was his way of punishing him by letting everyone know what he had done." You gestured with flailing hands in the air, "In few words, I'm sparing the child a really fucked up talk on how I met their sperm donnor."

MJ casted her eyes away, she knew things were messed up as they were, even though her mind wandered towards a curious yet forbidden territory of wondering how you'd look with a pregnant belly, she knew things just didn't work like that.

Maternity in most of the cases arrived in unexpected ways, yet, not everyone embraced it with open arms and happy tears. You had been already so brave to see the news through, even though your brain still needed to catch up with them.

MJ held your hand and pulled you closer to her. All of the people you could confide in was her. Out of everyone, she knew better than anyone what was like to be a mother. She'd call you in the verge of tears sometimes saying how much she wanted to call it quits. Empathy was one of best traits.

"No matter what you choose, I'm sure it'll be for the best. And if you want me to be there for you, I will."

"I know, thank. I... don't even wanna tell him, cause what use would be? I'm sure he doesn't even remembers-"

"Still, you must tell him. He owes you an explanation."

"Doubt he's happy or even cooperating in giving one."

Your hand was squeezed gently. There wasn't much that needed to be said, terrifying as it was the confrontation was a must. Mostly for your own closure, you needed that chapter in your life over once and for all and if it meant to look up for a new job, away from him and the mess, then so be it.

Dread.

The bravado you had mustered a week ago was now dead, leaving a strong trepidation in its place.

In your mind, the conversation had been replayed over and over you had even learned the possible outcomes in the answer and neither of them was good or comforting.

Nauseous stomach and Bambi-like legs walked you over your work spot. Like a cage, with tiny space in between it's bars, allowing little to no room for you to try and escape.

Your body could, but the mind had already sentenced itself for a long time, imprisoned with the same thoughts over again. Miguel was your cage, and you weren't that sure you'd ever be free.

A tiny part of your reasoning cheered you to seek freedom by telling him.

The truth will set us free

Of course, but it always came with a price, and maybe you didn't have enough to pay it.

As the day marched through the eight hour's end, your thoughts gravitated with anger. Be it the hormones changing, or the constant voice telling you to confront him, brought back a little bravado you thought dead. You had asked for permission to be let go an hour earlier to intercept him.

And this time there was no escape. No more cold shoulders, no more waiting, even if your body wasn't listening to you and definitely no more niceties.

Taking your purse and the proofs of your condition in your hand, you marched towards the parking lot. Ready for a battle you were sure was lost before it started. A Leonidas versus Xerxes.

You waited in one of the benches scattered around the place, eyes trained to the exit door. Waiting felt like forever and being pregnant surely made it worse. It was like pregnancy granted you the power to slow time, but instead of being a blessing, it was proving to be a nuisance.

But there he was, parading himself with a belittling swag as he moved through the other workers. Face blasé, jaw tightened and fist clenching tightly at a little leather folder he had smothered in his large hand.

He pulled out his keys, and deactivated the car's alarm.

You stood. Heart beating a mile per second, breathings deep and shaky, just as your steps towards him. You could run away and hide, spare him the truth and the already brewing verbal assault you were unprepared to take part in. Spare him and you the immediate disgust.

But you weren't God to forgive.

A deep exhale was taken before approaching him carefully while he fumbled with the keys on his hand. Your narrowing steps alerted him, and your shape came into view in his window's reflection.

He turned and for a second, you wished he didn't.

Deep rusty brown eyes stared at you, after recognizing your face, anger in them betraying his unbothered demeanor. The keys stopped tinkering as they were scrunched up in his fist.

"What do you want?"

You frowned, he glared. An iceberg was warmer than his own voice.

"We need to talk."

Plump lips twitched into a scowl on his frightening face.

"We've got nothing to talk about. Everything's pretty fucking clear between us. Or do you want me to spell it for you?"

"Is it really hard for you to stop being an idiot?"

A derisive 'tsk' from him while you narrowed your eyes into a glare. As he turned to face you, his arms crossed his chest, enlarging him even more, but you didn't coward. Anger rivaled your politeness, but every word that came off him made the ire tab to go skyrocketing.

"Amuse me, then."

He gestured with a hand towards you, inviting and mocking to then going back to their original position. Your lips trembled as you spoke.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyelids drooped lazily, clearly unamused yet still you had managed to pull out a genuine laugh off him.

"Dios mío..." He raked a hand over his head, shoulders shaking in little laughter, even though it all was stemmed out of an underlying doubt and rising anxiety.

"If you want money to keep it quiet, just say it."

"God, just when I think you can't go lower, here you are proving me wrong." Your anger spoke for you and he had to hold back a snort, "I don't want your money, or anything that comes from you."

The irrefutable proofs of that night, printed on those pages were shoved into his hands.

"What is this?" His voice skeptical and subtly alarmed as the clinic's logo came into his vision.

"Consequences. Care to explain how on earth that happened?"

His eyes scanned the paper, laughter and derision slowly dying the further he read on. His eyes narrowed at a certain part of the information. 9 weeks.

"So?"

His eyes glared at you to then go back to the paper and the ultrasound pictures. A little bean-like creature was growing within. A creature that had part of his DNA, forming itself with each passing day, enclosed in a comfy looking cocoon.

No.

His hands grope the paper so tight it had crumpled mercilessly under his snapping fingers. His body had turned frigid, paralized with a crashing and burning numbness spreading through his limbs. Muscles on his extensive and mountainous shoulders contracted in such rigidness, he looked liked he'd break and snap at any second.

No. No. No.

Yet they rose erratically, matching his breathings. A hand was able to let go from the paper, only to rake through his hair once more, as if trying to scruff out the chaotic thoughts. He kept looking between you and the paper.

"This..." He gulped, tasting his own words. In truth he had already forgotten about that night, but for you to return with such news was the cherry on top of a shitty day.

"Amused enough?"

"Get rid of it."

He pushed the paper back in to your hands while seething, the mere touch of them burning his skin. A biting and bitter laugh came out of your lips as your eyes glistened.

"What?"

"Get rid of it. You don't want it, neither do I. Why keeping it?"

"How. That. Happened?"

Your tone was everything but friendly, yet you were restraining in giving a piece of your mind. But his hand reached for your arm and pulled you, more like dragged you to a more secluded space, away from prying eyes.

"Let me go!" With a shove and a slap away of his hand, you freed yourself.

With a deep breath, a hulking figure loomed over you with a glare. How dared you in hindering his plans?

"Listen to me very carefully, if you tell anyone about this-"

"Are you seriously threatening me?"

"You don't understand." Venom and vitriol spilled through clenched teeth. His hands were trying to decide which place was better to anchor itself from, clenching them only fueled his anger, and pacing around wasn't helping either.

"You are the one that seems to not be understanding. I'm not asking, I want to know how this happened, Miguel!"

That was definitely a way he hated hearing his name. So full of anger and demand. Just like Dana.

"It's your fault." He couldn't help but muster, more to himself than to you, "How... How couldn't you notice this?" Voice betraying the grittiness in his demeanor for a second.

"My fault?!" glossy eyes in anger widened as he kept spilling his accusations. "Must I remind you what happened that night? We fucked. In bathroom stall."

"For all I know that... thing isn't even mine, and you just-"

"Just what?! Try to put the blame on you?! Bold of you to think I have the time in whoring around like you do!"

His nose flared, relieving the brewing and piping hot steam.

"You can't... you can't do this to me, I can't do this." His hands clenched in his lab coat pockets. Then they rubbed his face.

"You think this is easy for me?!"

"I have a career."

He seethed and you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. His eyes followed you, settled to make an intimidating tactic you seemed temporsr immune to.

"So do I."

He scoffed at your words while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No you don't. Not like I do."

"I'm not even asking you for anything but the truth. What happened? You're the only person I've hooked up with."

"Yeah, could fucking tell." He took a little check book and scribbled some things on it. Then put it right next to you, in the car's hood.

"I don't know how much you'll need, but get rid of it. The sooner, the better."

You heart stopped for a second as a flurry of emotions crossed your face.

You weren't one for fearing or hating monsters, but this one before you, made you shiver and recoil with something so damn familiar it instantly got you lunging for him, ready to make for his face.

He caught your hand before you could actually slap him with the freshly written check. Grip tightening, yet you were too angry and hormonal to care about the pain. Hot and angry tears were no match for his careless and cold stare. He seized you once more before letting you go, nearly shoving you out of his way.

He wasn't moved by your silent crying, either angry or sad, he just watched you with a gaze that would be translated into an 'Are you done?'

You weren't. But defeat had been pulling out all trace of energy that remained on you. No matter how many times you asked, he avoided the question and he just proved he didn't have any intentions of giving you one, or anything of the sort.

He clearly didn't want anything to do with you or the child accidentally conceived.

"What are you doing, Miguel?"

But he knew what happened. The condom had broke, expiration date had been one of the reasons it ripped. He knew he had to change it. But his mind was on the tip of his dick. Awaiting to attack your snug insides again.

Wiping the little dignity you had in your eyes, your shaking hands were about to reach for the papers on the floor when you saw a pair of cream colored heels, that carried the beautiful woman you were dying to set free from the maws of lying and cheating monster.

Dana's perturbed voice echoed through the open space and then evolved into an acute ringing in your ears, muffling her voice for a minute before you rushed to the nearest trash bin to empty the bile that had rose during the fight.

A clear Stop it, from your body.

Both Dana and Miguel watched you, doubling over the bin and holding your hair to prevent a further mess. Incredulity and horror struck them both. Miguel specially.

Stress made the sensations and pregnancy affairs a hundred times worse.

"Dana..." Miguel warned, but his fiancé was way too gone into staring you retch, recognizing a little piece of what had been happening. She had arrived when Miguel was writing you the check hearing more than enough.

"Let's go home, corazón."

Miguel spoke but Dana's eyes darted to the papers on the floor along the written check. Legs moving to where they were and picked them up.

Ultrasound pictures, some medical prescriptions and the most important thing, your diagnose. After this weekend passed, you'd be turning ten weeks.

You were too busy to notice the brunette's hand trembling and covering her mouth as she kept on reading.

"Dana-"

The click of her heels and firm slap echoed through, making your attention to go back to them. Miguel was looking to the floor, a flushed cheek with his fiancé's hand, and the woman herself looking like she was about to commit murder and he the next victim.

"Liar!"

You could only look away at the raw and ugly pain behind those words. He had fooled her enough. Dana did what you couldn't, a tiny solace to your bleeding soul.

"How could you?!" A quiet sob before the brunette turned to you, air trapped in your lungs as she prowled over you. Cheeks ready to receive the impact, but this never came, at least not right away.

"Dana, wait!"

"You whore!" Miguel grabbed her last second but she only thrashed in his arms, struggling to let go, trying with all her might in freeing herself from the monster's claws.

"I didn't know he was engaged! I'm sorry!"

Words kept flowing between broken sobs and sour mouth. Miguel looked like considering letting her go so you could have a taste from her wrath, but seeing you ready to take the hit made the urge to go away, infuriating him even more.

So righteous.

"Don't bullshit me, you slut!"

"He wasn't wearing a ring when I met him! How was I supposed to know?!"

That phrase alone made Dana to remain still. Her heart visibly breaking in tiny shards, so small they could be blown away with the wind. Fat tears rolled down her trembling cheeks. Miguel could glare even more to you if possible. He didn't know what pissed him the most that you were ready to face the consequences or the fact that you were spilling everything out.

"H-He wasn't?"

If the circumstances were different, you'd wrap her arms around her to prevent her breaking even more. But the only thing you managed to do was to admit everything. Sacrificial lamb ready to be slaughtered, unafraid of death.

"He wasn't."

As Miguel lowered his grip Dana came for you, holding you by the lapels of your blazer. Her dainty fingers wrinkling the fabric impossibly tight under her grip. Some of her nails dug on your skin. She trembled, eyes unwavering over your steadfast ones.

"I'm so sorry... If I had known that... he was engaged I would never have approached."

"For how long have you been doing this? Answer me!"

She pleaded. Unlike Miguel, you were providing with answers that only put the remains of her broken and stepped on heart on a shredder, but the more you talked, the more the weight on them was lifted off your shoulders.

"It was one time-"

"Where?"

"In... in the Alchemax Retirement party. I'm so sorry, miss, I had no i-"

Your words were cut short by another slap. She sting spreading through your right cheek.

"Get out of my sight" Dana shoved the papers back into your hands and pushed you away from her, "Get out!".

Your legs scrambled you away, you could hear a metallic sound clinking on the floor, Dana had removed her ring and threw it at Miguel, only to bounce off the floor. Miguel could only watch the expensive relic getting soiled at his feet.

"Say something!"

She wasn't ordering, but pleading to have answers. You knew she'd get none, since you didn't have yours.

Car keys fumbled in your hands, you needed to get out before anything else happened. Miguel’s eyes burning into you, they stalked your every movements and expressions.

But you had laid bare before the both and took the punishment like a champ. The car's engine purred, drowning out the sound out. You could see Dana speaking in an accusing manner as Miguel tried to get a hold on her. As much as you were a homewrecker now, you could sleep a little better knowing that you had saved her from getting married to a man like Miguel.

The latter proved to be cornered, but he didn't lash out. And that only sent a new wave of anxiety to wash over you. What he was planning? The check was scrounged up like your medical data.

His penmanship a tad sloppy, but the traces looked almost like he was intending to tear through the paper. You drove off, watching them both from aside. Miguel's eyes locked with yours once more.

You stared at danger itself in the face, but you weren't afraid anymore.

You drove away. Forced to escape the aftermath.

MJ held your hand as you both made your way inside a bigger center, shielding you away from some religious protesters outside the building.

Just as your words had forseen, his reaction had only made your previous resolution to ground even more.

Mind set in getting your old life back. Even if it was dull, boring and full of so many average moments, you wanted it back.

You wanted to go out drinking, dance till your feet hurt, instead of hurting for the many times you went to the bathroom. You needed to feel normal, annoyed even whenever your boss caught you slacking for something you could control and not because a pregnancy.

But more importantly, you wanted to feel normal again. The same as usual, underpaid receptionist that was another worker in a big multinational company.

Not an underpaid, used, threatened and pregnant with the child of an engaged man that had done nothing but test your patience. This wasn't in your job's description.

And pretty sure, the woman next to you in the women's center wasn't made for comforting either. She cursed at her unborn child in between ugly sobs, saying how much she wished to never have appeared back in that house, wherever it was, to whoever it belonged.

A stark contrast to the woman right before you, looking at her ultrasound images with such joy you'd never had the chance to understand nor wanted to. Too exhausted with your own thoughts to make some Instrospection on your heart's opinion. MJ sat next to you, her warm and soothing hands never left yours.

Half of the room felt red, warm, homey and full of proud future mother's that without a doubt would give their children whatever they deserved. They smiled and shared their stories among eachother, like if they had just won over the lottery. Some even went to the extent of be ecstatic upon each other's ultrasound picture.

And you sat on the blue side. Mothers that didn't want their child over so many different vicissitudes.

Some unable to carry on the pregnancy due the lack of a decent living place, homelessness, Some too young to be there, yet old enough to go under the scrutiny of a doctor to confirm what they already knew. Others with a faulty body that would be nothing but trouble, it was rare the woman that came in like nothing had happened, ready to resume their old lives, unbothered and emotionally unscathed.

"How much do I must wait to get rid of it?"

The blasé voice murmured behind you, unknowingly of the damage that had resurfaced in your memories, just like Miguel's words.

Get rid of it.

Get rid of her.

It was one of the few phrases the woman that gave birth to you, engraved in your childish brain as she was contained by the turn's lover, avoiding the imminent physical damage to fall upon you.

But what to do, when the most hineous form of impairment had already wounded you?. Crippling you to this very day. It didn't help the foster homes you were taken to after, followed a likely pattern.

Unstable, erratic, hot and cold and so confusing, blurring and tarnishing parenthood's concept too much to make a healthy definition out of it. And as soon as you hit the eighteen's to your little surprise, the system let your hand go.

Get. Rid. Of. Her.

A hard swallow and a shaky breath. sides turned a pale hue of lilac for a moment.

The sooner the better.

You weren't getting rid of the seed growing within you because you hated it. All the opposite. You were being merciful and compassionate. Borderline loving even.

Right?

Your name was called, and everyone's eyes turned to you, some hopeful, a silent plea to keep it, others encouraging, pushing you deeper in the hallway that lead to the surgery room, and others understanding. There was no judging, specially from the blue side. MJ nodded to you, encouraging to keep walking, yet a bit of hesitation remained on them.

With every step you gave, the room came closer, reaching an arm to you, so tempting and inviting to finally grant you what you had been longing for the past days.

Getting rid of it.

Another gulp, but this one was harder to deglute since a solid knot had been tightening in your throat with such force, you were sure you couldn't scream even if your life depended on it.

Like mother, like daughter.

Stomach queasy and oh so dreading to what came next. An open door, tools and equipment ready to be used in your little seed. Brain storming with flashing colors that had you wincing at the plain white light.

The thought alone of resembling in any form of your mother was revolting. Your feet haltered as the doctor ventured herself in. Hands shook, unable to be still, unable to grasp yourself completely. A thick tear rolled down your cheek, then another one followed.

The only thing I regret is not getting an abortion sooner.

A sniffle, your steps approached closer to it. Sterile white filled in with pristine smells. Despite not remembering her face anymore, her voice remained etched on you like a ghost. Leeching on your memories and hindering all possibilities of letting go.

God, I swear. I don't even know what I am paying.

With a trembling jaw and lip, you stepped back.

I was happier, way much happier before you showed up.

Even though the room was open and the doctor called you in, you didn't dare to enter. No matter how tempting and cozy it seemed inside. Just like your foster homes had been initially. You weren't happy to be here, a rush of panic made it's way through your legs, stomach and throat. Rising without any forgiveness.

Why won't my baby just die? Why?! Is not that hard, sweetie.

She had said with all the loveless voice someone could muster after you had spilled her pills down the toilet by accident. Cold and unfeeling hands tightening around your ten year old neck, your little pleas unheard. The same rush of panic flooded your senses, freezing any rational thought with it's biting glacial maws. You were in danger.

Let me show you, baby.

You ran. Ran in the direction you had came in, ignoring the doctor's calling you, the unified shocked stares as you crossed the clinic's threshold. MJ trailing behind you with a perturbed look in her face as she called your name. Everything in your body buzzed, but one thing had you folding and crying in an alleyway.

The child's heart.

Beating with such intensity along yours. Uneven at first, but then in a rhythmic and single one. Strong, steady and very much alive. Grateful even.

MJ's voice called you, to then rush to you.

"I'm so sorry... I can't-"

"It's ok." Hands wrapped around you, cradling you with nothing but tenderness and care. She shushed you and attempted to wipe your tears whole you shook your head vehemently.

You couldn't. You weren't brave enough yet.

"Do you want to get back inside?"

A little shake of your head. Mary Jane helped you to stand and wrapped her sweater around you, promising you'd be fine. Promising that everything would be alright.

"Let's go home, ok?"

Your hands tightened around your lower belly while guilt flooded your senses. You weren't ready to be a mother, that was much true, but you weren't also ready to make such a life changing decision, yet time was running out.

It wasn't thrilling. Yet, you knew an honest talk awaited once you got home.

And this time, a desicion would be born out of your rational side, not from your feelings and fucked up memories.

Your heart however, had turned a shade lighter of lilac, borderline pink.

----

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#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #t writes✨

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artificial-transmutations · 7 months

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I'm the ugliest nerd in the world and I have nobody. I wish I was a man with dark brown eyes, nice muscles and everything that makes a himbo... and every nerd I kiss becomes a man like only an Arabian fairy tale could tell. He would only want me. Only I could keep his muscular body up with kisses and fucks.

Can you grant me this one Wish?

An Arabian fairy tale

Once upon a time, there was a nerd called Gregor. He lived his life in a big city and every day, he was miserable. Not only was he gay and lonely, no, the little nerd was also ugly. He wasn't just ugly, no, he was the ugliest nerd there was in the whole country.

Every day he wished he could find a lover and live happily ever after, but every day, he was reminded of his status as a lonely nerd. He tried online-dating, but due to his exterior, nobody seemed to want him.

Gregor was a shy, awkward guy who didn't get many chances to talk to strangers. In his free time, he enjoyed writing fantasy stories, a hobby that didn't bring him too many friends, either. It was frustrating, too. In his stories, the hero always managed to find a true love. He wasn't alone, no, he had someone at his side.

In his real life, however, Gregor didn't have such luck. The best thing that happened to him in a while was meeting another nerd online. There wasn't going to be anything romantic between them. As fate would have it, the other nerd, called Evan was also gay and lived not too far away, but Evan had made it pretty clear early on that Gregor just wasn't his type. Instead, he rooted for manly men, with a different ethnic background. Evan and Gregor spent a long lonely night in voice chat together, discussing their preferences. Evan apparently longed for the firm touch of a strong man with Arabic background.

Meanwhile, Gregor didn't dare say what he wished for. What was the use, anyway? There was no way it was going to happen. No one wanted to be with a weak, ugly nerd like him. To be honest, he didn't actually really know himself. In his thoughts, a partner was something so abstract, so far away that he hadn't even thought about how such a person would look like.

Evan's fantasy wasn't bad, though. After their talk, Gregor lay awake in his bed and imagined strong, middle-eastern men, along with Evan. Perhaps he had developed a slight crush on the other nerd. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that he and Evan could be together.

When Gregor awoke the next morning, he felt strangely energetic and in a pretty good mood. Thinking nothing of it, he quickly got dressed and thought about what to do today. He didn't have any work to do and would usually have spent the day indoors, writing one of his stories. However, after the refreshing talk yesterday, that didn't feel all too appealing. Instead, he had an idea: He knew where Evan lived and worked. Perhaps he should walk over to that other part of the city, and they could have a coffee. Not as a date, of course - but more as a continuation of last night's talk.

Gregor didn't have time to waste and left the house. As he stepped into the sun, the first thing he noticed was how bright the world suddenly appeared. He didn't think much of it, but a few moments later, the second strange thing happened: People were looking at him!

Now, Gregor was of course used to people looking after him - he was really ugly, after all! But today, it was different. The gazes that lingered on him didn't seem to be hostile or disgusted. They seemed curious.

Perhaps his shirt had a hole in it, Gregor thought. He checked himself, but no, the shirt was fine.

As he walked, the attention he drew increased steadily. Was there something on his face perhaps? Or his arms?

As he checked his arms, Gregor was amazed by what he saw: His milky-white skin that usually had a sickly tone to it was entirely different today: instead of the pale and blotchy skin, he now had a healthy and firm complexion. The muscles in his arms, which he usually thought of as scrawny and flabby were now clearly visible.

He checked the other arm, and it was the same. What was going on? Also, his vision was getting blurry. When he took off his glasses to clean them, however, his vision cleared up instantly. It was as if his short-sightedness was just gone!

As Gregor kept walking, the changes became more apparent: His legs, which had always been thin and small, were now visibly muscular. His stomach, which had always been a little fat, was now a firm six-pack. His clothes, which had been a bit baggy before, were getting tighter and tighter as both his height and his shoulder width increased more and more.

His hair, which had always been a dark brown, was getting even darker, and a strong stubble covered his chin. His skin, which had been the same milky white tone, was getting a darker, more exotic tan.

Gregor had no idea what was going on, and he was a little scared. But the more his body changed, the better he felt about it. He wasn't an ugly nerd anymore. He was not yet sure what he was going to become, but it was surely better than what he had been.

Meanwhile, his clothes were getting increasingly tight, and he felt like taking them off. That was not something he would ever do in public, but his urges were stronger than his shyness. With a quick movement, he took off his shirt and ripped his pants open. To his surprise, below the tight jeans, a pair of silk shorts in a shiny royal blue had formed instead of his slip, which covered his privates. However, even though he wasn't naked, the ample bulge that stretched the silky fabric left little to imagination: a large and thick manhood had formed between his legs, which left a clearly visible dick print, along with the thinly veiled big orbs of balls he now had.

By now, Gregor's appearance was attracting a lot of attention, as his body kept growing more and more, becoming larger and more impressive by the second. He wasn't even "lean" or "fit" anymore. The way his body expanded, he definitely qualified as "muscular" by now, perhaps even "bulky". His shoulders were wide and strong, and his back had filled out so much that his neck had almost disappeared entirely. His biceps and triceps were both at least the size of his head and were covered in a fine, dark fuzz. The rest of his body had also become much hairier: His chest was covered in a generous carpet of dark hairs and a thick bush of pubes was pushing out against the silky shorts.

People had stopped and stared, and even a few had started to snap pictures or take videos with their phones. Gregor was enjoying the attention. His facial structure reformed into something much more manly. His new Arabic heritage became clearly visible on his face. His nose, his eyes, and his jawline changed and became broader, more prominent. His eyes became deep and dark, and his bushy eyebrows made him appear quite serious and manly.

A superior grin appeared on his face that wouldn't go away anymore. Gregor knew he had become a walking wet dream of Arabic hunkness - especially for Evan. He couldn't wait to surprise him like that.

Even though his identity hadn't changed much, Gregor didn't feel like calling himself Gregor anymore. Ghalib. That was a far more fitting name for his impressive Arabic stature. It meant 'victor' or 'conqueror' - and Ghalib felt exactly like that.

Ghalib wasn't even sweating when he arrived at Evans place a short jog later. He rang the bell, and when the little nerd in front of him opened, he didn't waste any time: Ghalib pulled Evan into a tight and sensual kiss, invading the other man's mouth with determined force. Evan moaned in his mouth and his legs gave in.

Ghalib held the small nerd up and carried him inside the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. The rest of their clothes soon littered the floor as the two men kissed passionately. However, as they were making out, Evan, too, began to change. It was almost like watching his own changes in fast forward: The hair on his head receded into a shorter style and was replaced by a thick fuzz that grew on his chest and the rest of his body. Evan's face morphed into a masculine and rugged appearance. His skinny, pale arms and legs grew more and more muscles, until they looked like they were sculpted out of marble. His skin darkened and an Arabic ethnicity appeared by it.

Finally, the smaller man's cock expanded and swelled up. Within a few seconds, it reached almost the size of Ghalib's.

As they continued kissing, the two men, now equally hung and ripped, felt up each other's bodies. Ghalib had no idea why this was happening, or what had brought on these changes, but he didn't care. All he knew - or was pretty sure about - was that it didn't have to stop with Evan.

As the other hunk went down on him, Ghalib made a decision. Evan and he would share their gift, turning more and more nerds into a true harem of sexy Arabs!

#male transformation #racial transformation #muscle transformation #hairy

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