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unriding · 1 day ago

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TRYING TO TAKE YOU HOME WHEN YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THEM. ft. dan heng, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, and sunday.

sfw. f!reader. in which the hsr men try their best to convince you that they really are your boyfriend and not a complete stranger trying to take you back home after a long night out.

cw for implied alcohol consumption. not mentioned otherwise — just the silly scenario where reader seemingly doesn’t recognize them upon first glance. prompt from anon on prev blog! fem!reader for all.

— DAN HENG.

He wonders if this was truly the best course of action.

“Give me back my jacket, you jerk...” your words come out slurred, barely mustering the strength needed to keep your hold on his sleeve as you trail behind him down the street.

His jacket — he'd usually correct you — but he doesn't this time, lest you eventually come to the conclusion that the mentioned jacket isn't even yours and therefore holds no importance.

“Soon. The agreement we settled on was that if you don't make a scene, I'll give it back.”

It sounds like a threat.

And if someone were to spot him now, this would certainly paint his image in a light that he would much rather not be perceived in, if given the choice.

He knows this all too well — apparent from the nervous sweat collecting along his temples and the frequent clearing of his throat whenever your grip begins to loosen, but you seem to only giggle at the statement now, eagerly nodding along.

“Really? You pinkie promise, stranger? I'll be reaaall quiet then.”

“Yes,” his brows furrow — from either stress or a sense of urgency that you don't seem to have, “I give you my word. So, please, keep your voice down and follow me.”

You respond with a cheerful hum before eventually falling silent again, the street quiet aside from the patter of your clumsy footsteps following closely behind his own.

Though it’s short-lived, much to Dan Heng’s misery.

Only about a minute or two goes by until you start to tug on his sleeve, and his heart nearly stops beating in his chest. Perhaps you’ve already realized. Or perhaps you’ve pegged him as a dangerous type of guy — which wouldn’t surprise him, given the circumstances.

“Hey…” you tug once more, even harder now, and then stop walking entirely — shifting your weight backwards to avoid being pulled straight into him.

Uh oh.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

“I'm sleepy.”

“You.. you want to sleep,” He repeats, still uncertain — his words coming off a bit too similar to that of a question. “Right now?”

You nod, hands coming to rub at your eyes, as if doing so could wipe away the sudden wave of drowsiness that has overtaken you. Though, your efforts prove to be futile in the end, with each blink becoming slower than the last.

“Yes,” you murmur, “Here. I'm going to nap … and then .. and then I need to find my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. A part of him is relieved you remember, at least. Perhaps the other critical piece of information will find its way back to you soon as well.

Your eyes flutter back open when something familiar is draped across your shoulders. “Don't sleep here.”

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

— JING YUAN.

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

It makes sense as soon as you turn to glare at him. While he’s rather certain he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a look, another part of him — his heart, skips a happy beat over how adorable you look, even if you’re not smiling at him like usual.

“I see,” Jing Yuan continues again, only a moment later, taking a seat beside you (and choosing to ignore the way you make the conscious effort to scoot an inch away from him). Sassily so, he might add, similar to the way you so endearingly turn your body away from him and puff your cheek out when he’s teased you just a bit too much for your liking.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

“Ah, how admirable he must be. You have no need for worry — I would never dream of wielding such a weapon.”

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

“This boyfriend of yours,” he speaks again, holding back a chuckle when you dramatically sigh at the sound of his voice once again, “surely he wouldn’t mind someone like myself keeping you company until he returns, wouldn’t you think?”

“I have grown quite curious. Perhaps he would allow me to see this impressive weapon for myself.”

— MYDEI.

“Actually, you’re rather comfy, stranger.”

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

“I’ve told you before. I’m no stranger.” The singular arm currently holding your thighs to his chest tightens, and you only giggle against his back, arms freely dangling beneath you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You’ve been surprisingly cooperative. In fact, he thinks he should make a mental note to remind you about being less trusting of strangers tomorrow — because .. surely, it should not have been so easy to convince you that he could simply carry you to your ‘boyfriend.’

Even now, when he’s seemingly been reduced to nothing aside from a mere stranger, you’re as inviting and friendly to him as ever — mumbling something about his strength, followed by a worried “Hey but — let me know if you get tired or anything, okay?”

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

“Say…” you start, drawing patterns along his back with a finger, as if nervous about his response. “Do you think Mydei’s worried?”

“I don’t want to worry him,” he lets you continue, eyes shifting back to the path ahead of him. “What do you think, strong stranger? He won’t be mad, right? Or sad, maybe?”

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

— PHAINON.

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

“‘Oh?’ Well, someone doesn’t sound very excited to see me.”

The stranger decides to approach you anyway, taking a seat on the tiles beside you before letting out an exhale himself, back of his head coming to lightly rest against the wall. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

“Your boyfriend? How strange.” The confusion starts to leave his face the longer he looks at you — lips curling ever so slightly at the idea that suddenly comes to mind.

“He must be cruel … to leave you here all by yourself.”

He almost slips and calls you cute when you stick an arm out to weakly jab a finger into his shoulder, turning your head to the side again to mutter a “Hey. He’s not cruel.”

Truly too cute — the way your eyes have narrowed into something resembling a glare — the same one you always give him whenever you scold him for being too careless. Though, it tends to fade as soon as it comes, replaced with soft kisses against the crown of his head as you lull him back to sleep.

“Aw,” He’s smiling now, “You’re certain he’s not cruel?”

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

The way his eyes begin to soften at your (unintentional) affection most definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you, he’s sure, nor the way his hand twitches — wanting nothing but to extend in your direction to pull you in for a hug. Though, luckily enough for him, you’ve settled on resting your head in the comfort of your own arms again, oblivious to the lovesick one seated beside you.

“I’ll make sure to tell him again … when I see him. So let me be, you weird stranger.”

— SUNDAY.

If someone happened to be wondering whether a halovian’s wings flap awkwardly when rendered completely speechless — this would be their golden opportunity to witness it firsthand.

“M-my apologies,” his wings flutter again, then a third time when your hand only tightens around his wrist, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. “Please excuse me. I was only checking for your temperature, since you seem to be rather…”

“No.” You don’t let go. In fact, you hold onto him as if you’ve just now captured a crook attempting to steal March’s snacks.

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

“No.”

“…”

“I… I see.” The nervous flutter of his wings shifts to something more sheepish — one wing moving to cover his mouth, as if deep in thought. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, for even someone such as himself is left dumbfounded by your current behavior. “Then.. is there anything you’d like for me to help with? Someone like March may be better suited for..”

“My boyfriend…” he falls silent as soon as you speak, noting the softness of your words now — barely above a hushed whisper (though the familiarity has him quickly perking up in response). “I want my boyfriend.”

His head tilts at this. Subtly. Truly confused — and even more so when your brows furrow only a second later, followed by a tug on his wrist. “I want my boyfriend.”

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

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rin-may-1103 · 1 month ago

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The Eyes of Death. Pt 2

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"Robin!" Orcale cried through the coms, startling Damian as he ducked beneath a punch thrown his way. Growling, Damian Sparta kicked the goon before him, spun around, and throat-punched the last one standing.

"What?" he huffed, glancing around his area to see if he had missed something; Father was facing off against Penguin, Tim was taunting Mr. Freeze, and Jason was plowing his way through the rest of the goons down on the ground floor.

Gunshots flashed by and up toward the roof, drawing his attention.

Turning around, Damian watched as Dick jumped from the rafters and dropped two other goons with brutal precision, their guns clattering to the ground. That's four. He could still hear Steph and Cass fighting in the other room over the comms, which makes it six. (Seven if he counted Duke, who was at home resting after a long patrol) They were still up and fighting, which meant nothing was out of place.

"Your boyfriend wouldn't happen to be named Daniel Fenton, right?" Barbara's voice was strained. She practically begged him to correct her and prove she was mistaken.

Damian tensed up but rushed over to help down the goons surrounding Dick, his heart thundering away in his chest. "What happened?" he growled, drawing his katana when a goon quickly pulled a knife. The sound of metal against metal almost blocked her voice, but Damian could still make out what she said.

"He's been taken by some cultists, they're broadcasting everything. They're setting up the ritual right now; they cut his arm and are using his blood mixed with black paint to mark the ground. I'm pretty sure he's in shock, he barely reacted to the cut."

"Oh, shit!" Steph cursed, "not the boyfriend!"

"Where?" he grunted, parrying the knife away and kicking the guy over the railing. The man's scream cut out as his body hit the floor. "Robin!" Father hissed in anger, quickly tying up Penguin.

"He'll live!" Damian shouted back as he marched toward the door and reached for his grapple gun, "Oracle! Where is he?"

The others could finish up here without him, they had already dealt with what the two rouges had been planning. All that was left was to gather up the goons and hand everyone over to the GCPD. His boyfriend, who hadn't texted him to tell him he had gotten home safe because apparently he'd been kidnapped by cultists, was more important than beating the crap out of some lowly goons.

"The Financial District, warehouse seven on 4th street." she huffed, the sound of keys clicking as she sent him the live footage. Clicking the side of his mask, he was met with the sight of his boyfriend bound to a chair and glaring up at the camera. His blue eyes were filled with more annoyance than fear, but that didn't reassure Damian at all when the camera backed up and revealed Danny's heavily bleeding arm.

They must have cut an artery with how deep the wound looked. The only reason he wasn't already dead from blood loss was because of how tight the ropes were, it seemed.

"Shit," Damian hissed as he shot his grapple up at the building across the street, "make sure an ambulance is en route, Danny's going to need it. They must have cut through his radial artery if not both."

He could hear Dick hold back a gasp at his words but ignored it, as he flew toward the roof and started running. A loud thud landed behind him, followed by footsteps as Father's gruff voice echoed into his ear as they ran. "Jets on its way, it'll be faster than the car." Damian silently changed direction, continuing to jump roofs.

"I'm coming with," Dick demanded, landing a couple buildings behind them. Damian grunted in acknowledgment, not caring what they did. He needed to be there, he needed to be there thirty minutes ago; when he should have been walking Danny home like he asked him too.

"GOTHAM!" the person holding the camera shouted with a slip of paper in their other hand, allowing the camera a glimpse of the words. Danny's eyes narrowed even more, something like disbelief filling his eyes as the man continued talking, "Tonight, you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

"Danny looks so disappointed," Dick snorted, pulling out his own grapple at the sound of the jet approaching. Of course, Danny was disappointed, it was a waste of paper just to remember so little. Damian agreed but couldn't do anything other than huff at his brother's comment, most of his focus on watching the video.

Dick wrapped an arm around him, firing at the jet just as it rocketed overhead. They were launched into the air and dragged over buildings as the jet flew toward their destination. Father dangled across from them for a second before the three of them latched onto the rail under the jet designed for quick departure. They sat in silence as all three of them focused back on the video feed.

"Now," the leader shouted, coming into view as the cameraman backed up. Danny and the freshly painted circle were in full view, but so was the group of people off to the side. Damian recognized two of the people on the ground. Nancy and Wyatt, Danny's forcibly appointed college guides or "parents".

Damian remembers the day Danny had been introduced to them, spouting vitriol in anger about them being acephobic and how the college wouldn't allow him to switch guides. Nancy was crying, her mascara running down her face. Wyatt was deathly pale, all the blood bleeding away from his face as he watched the cultists in what looked like horrified guilt.

"Let us begin," the leader cheered, grabbing Danny's shoulders from behind him. Danny glanced worriedly at the group and then at the camera like he couldn't decide what he should focus on, subconsciously cringing away from the man behind him.

"Join me as we summon our lord and savior!" Danny narrowed his eyes in anticipation, "The great tyrant of the dead!" he now looked confused, "The embodiment of war and bloodshed!" back to worried, "The one named PARIAH DARK!" amused, because of course, his boyfriend would find the name amusing, "THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!" now he was back to confused and worried.

The leader turned and walked back over to one of his followers, snatching an old book and opening it. Without any fanfare, the man began chanting, guiding his followers like he was the director of a twisted play.

"ten minutes," Father grunted, "Oracle, get everything you can on the ghost king. We need to know what we're about to run into. Call someone from Dark, we'll probably need their guide on how to deal with this."

Dick readjusted his grip, tightening his arm in reassurance as Danny's eyes glanced up and toward the rafters like he was looking for one of them. No, not like. He was looking for them; because Damian had promised him in the past that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. And if not them then he would. Danny had rolled his eyes at the time, sarcastically calling him his hero. But he believed him because Damian had promised.

Damian growled as one of the cultists smashed a bowl on the ground, splattering Danny in what he had to assume was the blood and paint mixture Barbera had told him about earlier.

Damian watched as Danny glared at the black stains all over his front with disdain, trying to mutter something through the gag in his mouth the camera couldn't catch. "Is he seriously worried about his shirt?" Tim huffed over comms, the sound of police sirens growing louder.

"I would too if that's the only nice shirt I had," Steph grumbled before shouting something at someone.

"My boyfriend owns more than one shirt, Spoiler." Damian hissed.

"No offense, Damian," Steph laughed, "but your boyfriend looks like he crawled out of a dumpster after losing a fight against one of your raccoons."

"Oh, give him a break! The poor boy's just been kidnapped, of course, he looks bad." Barbera chided.

Damian went to respond but stopped to watch as another cultist stepped forward and tossed salt at Danny. Danny shook his head and glared at the cultist, only to be slapped in the face with another handful of salt for his efforts.

"That's one way to rub salt in the wound," Jason huffed, "make sure you kick that one in the dick for me."

"With pleasure," Damian grumbled, leaning back to try and see the warehouse they were heading toward. "Seven minutes," Father added, noticing how impatient Damian was starting to get.

they silently watched as the cultists continued chanting, Barbera occasionally telling them things she'd found. (She was having difficulty connecting with The Dark members, something about an unexpected mission off-world.)

Danny was starting to look tired, his face paler than usual (A hard feat, considering his boyfriend looked like a fresh corpse on a good day. If he didn't know any better, he would think his boyfriend had never spent a second in the sun his entire life.)

Suddenly, Danny started to cough, shaking his head, clenching his eyes closed in pain for a second before focusing back on the leader. "The blood loss is starting to catch up to him," Tim commented as Danny glanced up at the rafters again, "let the hospital know to have extra blood ready."

"Got it," Barbera agreed, still typing away. "No one's answering, I'm going to try Constantine, now."

"Two minutes," Father warned, getting ready to jump. Damian steadied himself, leaning forward to time his jump correctly. "Shit," Jason cursed, drawing Damian's attention back to the video in time to watch as a cultist raised a bloody blade into the air and slammed it into Danny's chest. "You need to get there, now!"

The cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who was now standing in front of Danny. Danny's chest quickly stained red, his eyes wide in shock and horror.

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!" the leader's voice echoed in the silent warehouse like a gunshot. but Damian couldn't hear a single word the man spoke as he watched Danny lean forward in pain, trying to grab at his chest.

His restrained hands pulled against the rope, causing more blood to leak from his wound, his eyes clenching shut as his left hand started glowing green. He suddenly started screaming, his voice strained like it was being ripped out of his throat, barely muffled by the gag.

A bright light flashed, spreading from where he'd been stabbed and crawling over his body. His skin turned gray, almost blue, like a body found out in a snowstorm. His hair started floating in an absent current like he was underwater. and his eyes started glowing a bright blue, growing brighter and brighter.

"NOW!" Father shouted, launching off the railing and gliding through the air. Damian didn't hesitate to follow, all his training allowing him to go on autopilot as he used his cape to guide his fall.

Danny slumped forward, his head hanging limp as the warehouse went deathly silent.

Twisting in the air, Damian aimed his grapple hook and fired. It latched onto the warehouse and tugged him forward, his fall turning into a swing as he rocketed toward the glass window. "Your Highness?" someone asked, their voices glitching in and out with the video feed.

Damian watched as the Danny in the video slowly lifted his head in time with the Danny he could see through the quickly approaching glass. Damian only had a split second to register that his boyfriend's eyes were no longer blue, but bright green before his feet smashed through the window and he was landing in a roll on the ground.

Immediately, the camera feed disappeared from his view, allowing him to focus on what was around him. Father crashed through the skylight, showering the cultists in glass as he landed on the other side of the room. Dick landed next to him, fluidly popping up from his roll.

"Shit!" someone shouted, "it's the bats!"

"run!" someone else yelled.

Damian lunged forward, burying his fist into the first cultist's face with a satisfying crunch. The warehouse flooded with loud screams and rapid movement.

"Dammit!" the leader cursed, dragging Damian's attention over to him. He had left the circle at some point, crazily looking around to try and find a quick exit.

Abandoning the cultists he was fighting, Damian quickly sprinted at the man. Unsheathing his katana, Damian attacked. The leader used the bloody knife to parry, scrambling back to get away. Damian growled, about to follow when his eyes landed on Danny's black and blood-stained face right behind the man.

Bright Lazarus green eyes stared back.

Danny's vision tilted, or was that just his head? It felt like he was in one of those twisty things NASA shoves their astronauts in under the claim of training for departure and reentry into Earth's atmosphere. or maybe it felt like a hundred pounds of soaked cotton balls shoved behind his eyes and lit on fire?

he couldn't tell, at this point, his head could be detached for all he knew. Wait, no. He's done that before, this feels nothing like that. So, he still had his head... but does his head still have a body???

He would glance down, but he's afraid he won't be able to lift his head again... Had he lifted his head? or had the world moved around him like it does in the realms? Where was he?

Danny's core pulsed in confusion as someone stepped over the circle, quickly followed by someone else. No one was supposed to enter unless a deal was about to be made. Had he made a deal?

Blinking, he focused his blurry vision as much as he could on the figure slowly approaching him. Had he already been looking at them? His vision tilted again, making his gut roll in nausea. A voice slowly broke through the static ringing in his ears, and his shirt suddenly pulled in frightened hands.

"Your Highness! these are the sinners I told you about!" the voice screeched, a pitch so out of the norm that Danny could only assume the voice belonged to a small fly-turned-eldritch little girl.

Wait a moment, that was his title? Your Highness? seriously? Was everyone going to be calling him that? He was the king; wasn't it supposed to be majesty??? He'll ask Dora later; now wasn't the time.

"Oh great ghost king!" the high-pitched voice cracked and lowered back to one he was starting to get familiar with, "Pariah Dark, lend me your power so I might defeat him!"

Did he seriously just call Danny, Pariah??? The man, the leader of the cult, Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem, kneeled in front of Danny, his hands twisted into Danny's ruined shirt. The blurry figure froze, not moving now that Danny had broken eye contact to look down at the horrible man.

Danny might be completely out of it and have no idea what's going on anymore, (he was in so much pain, why was there so much pain? he wanted it to go away, why wasn't it going away?) but he's been trained for moments like this. He can't let anyone see him as weak, not when he has to protect the realms as is his kingly duty.

Clockwork thought it would be a good idea to drop him in the middle of a meeting with some demons right after Danny had pulled an all-nighter and fought three of his rouges. let's just say, Danny was not pleased with the old goat after that. On the other hand, every time he meets a new demon, they seem to respect him much more than before. (he's still not sure what he did to earn that, but whatever)

So, acting like nothing was wrong would be easy peasy.

Sitting up straight, like Dora taught, Danny gazed down at the man who had demanded his attention. He turned his jaw intangible, dropping the gag and allowing him to speak freely again, "why should I?" His voice was echoey, cold, and devoid of the usual emotion.

It was completely different than what it usually was. Like he was a completely different person. (He sounded like Dan) which caught Danny off guard, but he had to ignore it for now. Clockwork had said that Danny Phantom was different from King Phantom, maybe this is what he meant. (hopefully not, he hated sounding like Dan. Was this permanent? was he always going to sound like this???)

"Why?" the leader stumbled, letting go of Danny's shirt in surprise, "because I summoned you! I control you!"

He looked outraged like it was Danny's fault he was in this mess.

Snorting, Danny smirked at the man. "Why should I lend you my power when you haven't even gotten my name correct?" That was like common summoning courtesy 101, right? Frostbite said something like that... or was it Pandora? Wait... wasn't that the demon etiquette? What was the ghost-summoning etiquette then? Also, could he even lend his power to someone else??? like, demons could, but could Danny???

"Who cares!" the man snapped, picking up the knife he had dropped next to him and slashing it at Danny. He didn't even have to think as he instinctively turned his right arm intangible and snatched the man's wrist, clenching it tightly to make him drop it. He was not going to let the man stab him again, thank you very much.

his core grumbled in annoyance, scattering his thoughts for a moment. What was he doing? his arm burned like it had been shot with an ecto blast, but that wasn't right, it was cut by-

Oh, right. cultists. Gotta deal with that.

Fazing the ropes off, Danny carefully stood up. An almost silent whine drew his attention up; it was the fuzzy figure, or now that Danny could actually see a little easier, Robin. Huh, looks like the bats actually made it after all. A little late to the party, but oh well.

Wait...

Shit, he didn't need the Bats up in all of his business. Especially since everything the ritual did to him was recorded, the ghostly stuff included. (Was Damian watching? Did he think Danny was dead now? a normal person would have died right?) He'd have to clear up any misinterpretations later, right now he has to focus on gaslighting the Fuck out of Batman and his partners.

Maybe he won't even have to deal with the Justice League if he pulls this off.

ok, what do they think the situation is? A Cult recording themselves sacrificing some random dude, the dude gets stabbed in the chest (probably assumed dead, he'll have to fix that...), then some ghostly shit happens, and the dude has glowing eyes... which basically lines up with the socially accepted symptoms of possession.

Cool, cool, cool. Danny'll just act like he's possessing himself then. No need to make it weird. Or reveal that he's a halfa.

...

How the fuck was a ghost king, who for all intents and purposes, knows nothing about mortal life, supposed to act when possessing a random body????? does he call it his body?? vessel? homing beacon?

"-leas me this intance! I summoned you, you listen to me! ME! I summoned you. Therefore, you have to do as I say!" the leader's voice broke through Danny's thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Again. Man, he seriously needs to get his shit together. Maybe it was the blood loss, they had cut him pretty badly earlier...

Sighing, which hurt a lot actually... he should probably fix that. Mentally shrugging, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to heal his wounds, which in turn settled his core a lot more than he expected. Maybe he shouldn't suppress it so much in the future... OR he should, and just not allow himself to be used in other rituals. Yeah, that's probably it. Man, he's going to have to talk with Frostbite after this is all over.

"You know nothing of which you speak, mortal," Danny grumbled, turning slowly to examine the warehouse. The bats had been fast, or Danny was just really out of it, because not only were all the cultists knocked out but the other hostages were gone.

"I know enough!" the man screeched, hitting his free fist against Danny's arm in an attempt to get Danny to release him. The only thing that was going to do was leave a bruise. Robin growled almost silently in response, which was weird. Why would Robin be upset about this man hitting Danny? or was he more upset along the lines of believing the random "hostage" Danny is "possessing" being hurt?

Yeah, that was probably it. All right, time to act all Ghost Kingly or whatever. If he was about to do something stupid then Clockwork would intervene. Since he hasn't so far, Danny was taking this as the old man giving his permission to proceed.

"Stop bruising my new favorite vessel, or I'll show you why it's a bad idea to mess with the dead." Danny hissed, pulling the man up so they were eye to eye. (it wasn't that hard, considering Danny was short as fuck. Who knew dying would stunt your growth?)

The man leaned back, his eyes wide in fear. His face turned green, or was that just the light from Danny's eyes? how bright were they glowing???

Oh, right, old ghost king, you need to focus here Danny.

Rolling his eyes, Danny harshly (not as hard as he could have though, even if he wanted to punt the man into the sun) tossed the man out of the circle and toward Robin. Nightwing, who Danny had just noticed was also there, quickly rushed over and wrangled the man over to the pile of cultists and tied him up.

"Your vessel," Batman grunted, stepping up to stand next to Robin. (Danny wasn't sure when, but Robin had left the circle. Which meant they probably had someone with magic experience telling them what to do now.)

"Yes, mine," Danny huffed, slowly turning to study the broken windows. his head was killing him, like four migraines stuffed into one killing him...

Do they not know how to use a door? Like, how often do they break through windows? Like, sure, it probably saves them a few extra seconds during a fight, but seriously? Do they at least pay the owners back for the property damage?

"He's not yours," Robin hissed, unsheathing his katana. Batman rested his hand on his shoulder, likely to warn Robin from doing something stupid.

Lifting his brow, Danny glanced down at his body. Did Robin know him? Or was he really just that protective of the people in his city? Even though Danny wasn't technically a Gothamite? He remembered Damian telling him at one point that if he was ever in trouble, the bats would save him. Hmm, yeah, probably just very protective of the people in their city then.

Danny was the same way when he was Phantom; those tourists might not be native Amity Parkers, but they were his tourists. So back off, ghost number 700 of the week. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, that's probably it.

"He," oh wow, speaking about himself was so weird, "was used as a sacrifice to summon me, which makes him mine." Ignoring the fact that his body belonged to him beforehand because, again, this is his body, but you know, can't tell them that. Also, even if this was someone else's body, it'd technically be Danny's. Look, being the ghost king meant Danny owned a lot of weird things, one of those being literally anyone's dead body. (He refused to think about the fact that Pariah had technically owned his body.)

Glancing up, Danny watched as Batman tightened his grip on Robin's shoulder. "Release his body at once, you lowly demonic pit waste! His body-"

"OK!" Nightwing cut in, clapping his hands. "How about this," he glanced at Robin and then back at Danny, clearly nervous about Robin's outburst. Also, what the hell was pit waste? Like, obviously Robin was insulting him, but he could have at least used an insult Danny would understand.

Also, why was Robin insulting a supposedly all-powerful king of the dead? Wasn't he supposed to be one of the more rational vigilantes? Maybe he just got emotional when he thought he failed to protect someone? Which is completely understandable, Danny did not react well when he failed to keep someone safe.

"We apologize for any wrongdoing Robin's words have caused. You willingly go back to your realm, leave your vessel's body behind, and we" he gestured at himself and the other two, "don't get other magic users involved? how does that sound?"

"Is that a threat?" because seriously, that sounded exactly like a threat. Did they seriously not know how to talk to other dimensional beings? Shouldn't they, as Justice League members, know how to diplomatically converse with others? Especially ones that could kill them with a glance? (like, Danny obviously wouldn't do that, but come on!)

His core stuttered again, drawing his attention to the fact that Danny was running out of power to keep up whatever transformation he'd taken on. Which was weird because he's obviously not in his ghost form, so why was it so draining??? And there's plenty of ectoplasm in the air, so, like, this was just ridiculous.

"Whatever," Danny huffed, looking down to study the circle as Nightwing started waving his hands in denial. "I already healed the vessel, he'll technically live." He could feel the pull it had on his core, which meant he had no idea what would happen once it was broken. Would he feel the same things he felt earlier? or would it just be like letting go of someone's hand?

Man, he was too tired for this crap. He wanted to go home and sleep. maybe steel his boyfriend's hoodie and cuddle with Cujo.

You know what? Danny didn't care, he should just break the circle and act like nothing happened. Yep, that's the plan. Still, he should probably prepare for if something goes wrong, you know, like passing out.

Carefully, both because the world was still kind of spinning around him, and to keep the bats from reacting badly, Danny made his way to stand in front of the Vigilantes. They should have quick reflexes; if he passes out, they should be able to catch him, right?

Without warning, Danny dragged his shoe over the line and broke the circle. Immediately his core hissed and all of his energy disappeared. Crumpling forward, Danny barely processed the sight of Robin's panicked lunge to catch him before everything turned dark and his body felt on fire.

Next?

958 notes · View notes

maxivstappen · 4 months ago

Note

congratulations for 1k, you really deserve It !!

for your event: can i ask for a carlos sainz fic based on "break my heart, and I swear i'm moving on with your favorite athlete" by sabrina carpenter in good graces

thanks xx and ily

౨ৎ YOUR FAVORITE ATHLETE ! ‧₊˚.

౨ৎ 1K EVENT — short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

pairing — carlos alcaraz x reader / carlos sainz x reader

summary — break my heart and i swear im moving on with your favorite athlete! angst & sweet revenge (again lol)

warnings / disclaimer — none, just my not so perfect Spanish (please correct me)! hope you liked this <3 thank you lots for your support and sorry for my absence - school is really time consuming at the moment :( i'll be updating more frequently again soon — masterlist (not updated sry) / prev. work

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

12th of January - TWITTER

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4th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,723,981 others

yourusername girls just wanna have fun or whatever 😝 love ya @.alexandrasaintmleux

view all 31,821 comments

user1 omg why did she unfollow carlos?

user2 @.user1 she follows carlos wdym

user3 @.user2 no they mean carlos alcaraz the tennis player, y/n‘s boyfriend (if they’re still together). I suppose you’re an f1 fan?

user2 @.user3 yes haha sorry i didn’t know that, and I don’t watch tennis so that’s why i was confused

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ my only love🥹 never ever leave me again!!

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux what do you mean ‚only love‘?? don’t you think you’re missing someone?

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.charles_leclerc so sorry, of course i love my baby leo just as much🥰

charles_leclerc ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux 😔

user4 oh they’re so HOT

user5 @.user4 CARLOS FUMBLED IF WHAT I‘M THINKING IS TRUE

user6 ONE CHANCE Y/N JUST ONE

landonorris ✓you can finally focus on the better sport now 🙌

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user7 @.landonorris WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNNN

user8 @.user7 i think carlitos and her broke up 😭

yourusername ✓@.landonorris only saying that cause i keep beating you at tennis

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5th of February - TWITTER

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5th of February - TEXTS

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6th of February - @.yourusername ✓ just posted on INSTA !

liked by carlitosalcarazz, carlossainz55 and 1,576,971 others

yourusername if i speak i am in trouble 🤭

view all 26,933 comments

landonorris ✓ AHHHHHHH

yourusername ✓ @.landonorris AHHHHHHH

user9 @.landonorris LANDO SPILL

user10 guys alcaraz liked😧

user11 @.user10 HES JELLYYYYYY

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ hope you had the best night ever☺️

yourusername ✓ @.alexandrasaintmleux wasn’t as fun as it would’ve been with you🙂‍↔️

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ @.yourusername let me take you out next time 🤭

carlossainz55 ✓ @.yourusername @.charlesleclerc they’re flirting again😞

charles_leclerc ✓ @.carlossainz55 they will never stop😞

user12 THE LAST PIC

user13 @.user12 MYSTERY GUY SPENT THE NIGHT

user14 @.user13 THATS CARLOS SAINZ

user15 @.user14 i was about to call you delulu but…. i think you’re right

user16 @.user15 guys go get some sleep it’s okay … delulu isn’t always the solulu 😚

user17 HES HOLDING HER SHOES

user18 SOFT LAUNCH BUT WHO TF IS SHE LAUNCHING 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥

carlossainz55 ✓ ❤️

-> ♥️ by @.yourusername ✓

user19 @.carlossainz55 @.user18 WE KNOW WHO SHES LAUNCHING🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

user20 @.carlossainz55 OHMYGAWWKDKSKALSKSKS

user21 TENNIS WAG TURNED F1 WAG AND IVE NEVER BEEN HERER FOR IT

user22 @.user21 you’ve never been what?

user23 @.user22 you need to learn matching people’s freak fr😣

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A Couple Weeks Later - TEXTS

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20th of October - @.carlossainz55 ✓ just posted on INSTA !

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 3,445,912 others

carlossainz55 won the race and got the girl😉 great work from the team (and me)

view 1 comment

yourusername ✓ love you baby

- comments have been disabled -

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

20th of October - @.yourusername ✓ just posted a story on INSTA !

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hope you liked it <3 guys please correct my spanish PLEASEEEEE (the question marks are weird like that on purpose because i’m a lazy bitch)

gen / sns taglist :: @norrisdriver @1655clean

938 notes · View notes

ranidaee · 15 days ago

Text

FUCK YEAH FROGS. THE OTHER THING ALSO

#thats. what you relate to right :D #<- prev i'm hugging a huge frog plushie right now so yes. correct. correcto.#frogs #!!

6K notes · View notes

bluesidez · 10 months ago

Text

GymRat!Miguel Part 6

content warning: fluff!, mentions of alcohol, uses of Spanish (if wrong, PLEASE correct me), boy-mom tendencies coming from Conchata, judging coming once again from Conchata (she means well, I promise. it just takes her a while to get there), mentions/pics of food, some PDA, it gets a little suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, Tyler + Nancy + Kron are all white for those who don’t know, Miggy still looks like ATSV Mig though, this is probably the LAST time that sorority party is mentioned, some body insecurity, Kron is a moron + freak, some violence at the end

word count: 8.5k, kinda proofread (no comment 😒 just buckle up)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who hopes his package makes it to you in time for New Year's. He hates that he can't just come and see you. He wanted to be with you as the clock struck 12, he always wanted to have a New Year's kiss with someone, but it felt a little silly to drop everything a drive to you. January was soon, which meant that the new semester started soon. He wasn't one to count down the days until school started, but if it meant he could be physically near you again, he would mark off the days in bright red on every calendar in the house.

GymRat!Miguel who records himself counting down with his rambunctious family in his grandma's backyard. His baby cousins are jumping up and down, throwing Pop-Its on the ground just giggling away. His aunts and uncles are yelling loudly. His mom and dad are huddled up together, his dad kissing his mom's cheeks as she laughs. George is a little drunk so he's feeling a bit more brave than usual. Gabriel and Dana are sitting in a corner, lighting sparklers to pass out to his relatives.

GymRat!Miguel who sends the video to you as soon as he can. You were probably busy with your own family so he didn't expect you to reply right away. He watched the fireworks that his uncle set off. A little dangerous with the trees being so close, but amazing nonetheless. His mom and dad gave him a group hug, then started dancing and singing loudly to Selena. He didn't even look to his Gabriel who he knew was kissing Dana's face off. He really missed you.

GymRat!Miguel who confessed everything to his Abuela as soon as she opened her mouth to say "¿Qué pasa, mi nietecito?"

He sat at the end of the table next to her, sniffling away as he rambled about everything that had happened the past semester. The late nights, the early mornings, his roommate that didn't dry off in the shower sometimes, his failed party, his missed alarms, group projects, and most importantly you.

He told her how much he missed you and how silly he felt. She rubbed his hands and reminded him that love has no bounds. She jokes about all the times she stayed with his abuelo after the stupid things he's done.

Who proposes without a ring?

GymRat!Miguel who laughs at his Abuela's stories of her younger love life. They trade stories back and forth, his stories mostly of you because you're his first true girlfriend. His Abuela listens with glee, happy to see her Miguelito so joyful. She warns him not to be like his abuelo in terms of common sense, but to be like him when it comes to how much love he has to give.

GymRat!Miguel who is eager to show her a picture of you. She is the second family member to see you outside of Gabriel, as she is one of the family members that he is closest to.

She was the one he cried to when the truth of his parent's past life unfolded. She was the one he went to when his mom berated him for the smallest things. She was the one he went to when he felt that he was competing to be seen, but he didn't want Gabriel to notice his pain. She was his everything.

He opens his growing folder full of pictures of you and scrolls to one of you during one of your library dates. You're looking up at him with the cutest smile on your face. Your glasses are falling a little bit and there's a half eaten granola bar in your hand. You were studying for an art history exam and complaining about the influx of European artists over every other continent. He had told an art joke he found on the back of a laffy taffy.

"What did the art thief say to the museum curator?" he said, getting his camera ready.

"What?" you ask, highlighting a passage.

"Give me all your Monet," he said, a snicker following.

You turn to him quickly with a giggle, "That's so silly."

"It made you laugh, though," he said, snapping a picture.

You were really sweet that day. Looked sweet, smelled sweet, and even your kisses tasted like strawberries.

His Abuela took the phone in her hands, pulling her glasses down to look at you.

A smile grows on her face as she sighs, "¡Muy hermosa!"

Miguel's heart soars. He is glad that she sees what he sees.

Of course, she wants to see you. She compliments you profusely, praising Miguel for finding such a beautiful girl. Miguel promises to bring you by one day, happy to be the bridge that connects to women who bring him such joy.

GymRat!Miguel whose bubble bursts when his mom comes up from behind, asking what he and his Abuela are talking about. He quickly brings his phone back to his chest and looks up at his mom.

“Uh, we were just talking about school,” Miguel answers.

“What are you hiding, mijo?” Conchata asks, raising her eyebrows as she tilts her head. There was a warning tone in her voice, daring him to lie.

“You’re always fussing at him! It’s New Year's, Conchata, let him relax,” his Abuela sighed.

“Ma! He is hiding something,” she says, voice getting sharper. “He’s been strange ever since he got home. What is it? Háblame.”

Miguel just let the air go from his lungs.

“We were talking about my girlfriend. I was just showing Abuela some pictures,” Miguel said, tone quiet as ever.

“That’s it? Well, can I see them?”

Miguel hesitated, not knowing how his mom would react. She could be a bit of what people described as a “boy-mom.” Despite all of the years of her nitpicking and nagging him, she still had her moments where she thought others were too good for him.

Miguel hesitantly showed her the same picture. She quickly yanked the phone and looked intensely, pinching the screen in and out.

Then she started scrolling. It would have been fine, but there were still some of the scanned Christmas photos of you that he didn’t move to his locked folder yet.

“Hey!” he said, jumping up to grab his phone. He quickly uses his height to his advantage and gets it back in his hands while his mom tried her best to keep scrolling. He looks at the photo she stopped on, one more swipe and she would see what was only meant for him. “Seriously, Ma?”

“I just wanted to see,” she said, straightening her blouse. “She’s- nice.”

Her tone was nonchalant, sarcastic.

“Nice? That’s it?” Miguel ask with his mouth turned up.

“Sí. What does she study?”

“Art.”

“Hm,” she says. “I guess you’ll be the breadwinner. If it goes that far.”

“Ma, please don’t start this,” Miguel says, feeling a headache coming on. “I already told you that this was a new relationship. One that has lasted this long for me. And there are plenty of jobs you can get with an art major!”

Conchata made a face as to say ‘really?’ with her arms folded.

Miguel looked to his Abuela with an exasperated look in his eyes.

“They are hard to get, but the world cannot move without art or love,” his Abuela says, taking Miguel’s hand in both of hers.

“Love?!” Conchata just about shouts.

Miguel just groans.

GymRat!Miguel who stomps over and yanks up Gabriel by his shirt, disconnecting him from Dana, and dragging him inside.

“Gabri. A dinner party? Really?!” Miguel huffs out, irritation high in his voice.

“Where’s ‘Hi. Hello! How are you?’ No ‘Happy New Year’s Eve, Gabriel. My darling baby brother who I love!’ Just using your sheer strength against me. Removing me from the safe arms of my girlfriend. Just rude,” Gabriel turns his nose up and folds his arms.

“You running your mouth is all the answer I need,” Miguel says as he flicks Gabriel on the head. He yelps out a cartoonish ‘yeowch!’ “Why did mom just tell me about a dinner set up to meet my girlfriend?”

“Um! Well, you see, things happen when you’re enjoying a lovely ski resort!”

Miguel just geared his hand up for another flick.

“And!” Gabriel says, leaning back with his hands up. “Sometimes little brothers have to cover up for their big brothers when they almost punch the shit out of their half brothers!”

“So you tell them to throw a dinner?”

“No! That’s not even how I roll. All I said was that you were probably talking to her. Blame Nancy. And Tyler. And ma! Once Nancy suggested it, ma was ready to tag along. She’s been trying to stick her nose into your life for years.”

Miguel’s shoulders just slumped.

He pulled Gabriel in for a hug, “Sorry Gabri. I should have just asked you. She was just being really weird about the whole thing.”

“It’s ok, nobody knows your heart like me. But, do you really think it’ll be that bad?”

Miguel pondered that question.

“Hopefully not. I won’t let it get awful. She doesn’t deserve that,” Miguel says.

“Let’s look at the bright side. Tyler likes her. Dad likes her. Nancy’s opinion doesn’t really matter, but she likes anything Tyler likes. Kron is an idiot. And I definitely like her.”

Miguel clicks his teeth.

“Oh don’t make that face, Miguel. You know you love me!” he says and puckers at Miguel’s face.

“Ew, get away from me. You were just slobbering all over Dana,” Miguel says as he pushes Gabriel away and turns to go to his designated room.

“You’re so mean!”

GymRat!Miguel who answers within seconds when you call as he sits on the bed.

“Happy New Year!” you sing out, dragging the ‘year’ in a cute melody.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he says, smiling at your cuteness.

“I got your package!” you say, fighting with the phone to stay straight. You finally get it steady and start backing up. “It’s so comfy! The chest part is a little snug, though. Nothing too crazy.”

You stand in the middle of the camera. Miguel had delivered a bunch of his old sweaters to you after you mentioned wanting to snuggle during one of your FaceTimes.

He did everything to make sure they smelled like him. He used a specific detergent. He sprayed them in his cologne. He even wore them each for a set amount of time.

The one you were wearing was merchandise from when Gabriel decided he wanted to play basketball. You turned around and Miguel was met with ‘O’Hara’ printed across the back and your cute little shorts.

“Do you like it?” Miguel asked, internally freaking out. You’re wearing his clothes and his name.

“I love it!” you say, grabbing the phone and climbing onto your bed. “They smell like you too. I feel nice and warm.”

You brought the neck of the shirt up over your nose, eyes smiling at the screen. You were going to be the death of him. He’s become jealous over cotton and wool.

“Can I see it one more time?” Miguel asked, eyes heavy as he sat back against the headboard.

You popped up from your cocoon of his sweater and bit your lip, “Is this riling you up, Miguel?”

“More than you know. How could it not? My girl is wearing my clothes,” Miguel replied earnestly.

He heard you let out a soft noise, embarrassed as you stretched the phone out.

“Yeah, I’m really loving this,” Miguel said, voice lower.

You brought the phone back to your heated face, still not used to that type of response from Miguel.

“Don’t hide from me, cariño,” Miguel said, watching as you fanned your face. “Let me see you.”

“Cariño?!” you say, heart beating even more.

“Are you not my sweetie? My baby? My girl?” he asked, looking at you playfully.

You just rolled to the side and let out a huff.

“You’re teasing me,” you say, voice just above a whisper.

“Not teasing. Just admiring,” he says, eyes twinkling.

You bite the nail of your thumb, “I have an old selfie stick. I can go get that if you want to see more.”

“Please!” Miguel all but shouts.

You giggle as you run to get it out the of box. Miguel’s anticipating the show as he listens to you throwing things across the room.

When you get your phone high in the sky to pan over your body, it takes everything within Miguel to not start howling. Your legs were glowing, thighs full and ready for him to grip and bite. Your shorts were squeezing your hips. Most importantly, his sweater was stretching across your chest.

“God, I wish I was there,” Miguel groaned, rearranging his pants. His excitement was making his clothes feel uncomfortable.

“Me too,” you say, panning the camera back to your face. “I want my muscle bear.”

“Yeah?” Miguel asked, smiling at the screen. He loved it when you called him that.

“Mm hm,” you reply, picking at a loose thread. “I told my mom about us. She was getting worried and said I was walking around the house like a ghost. She’s excited to meet you.”

Miguel sat up straight, heart dropping. That was a stark difference from his mom.

“That’s great! When does she want to meet? I need to get her a gift. Is she still looking for that travel bag set? Or do you think she would prefer a meal?”

“Miguel-”

“I can ask my Abuela to help me make something. Does she have a favorite restaurant? Should I wear a suit? Business casual, maybe.”

“Mig-”

“I need to get her some flowers too. Does she have a favorite flower? Oh my gosh. Is she allergic?”

“Miguel!” you speak up, laughing at his state. “Calm down. It won’t happen until like, next month. You have enough time to prepare.”

“Baby, don’t laugh! This is important. I have to make a good impression,” Miguel pouts.

“And you will! I’ve already told her so much about you.”

He actively gulps, “Even the party?”

“Ok, that didn’t go over too well. She ran her mouth to my dad about that. But! She doesn’t blame you,” you say, calming tone.

“She hates me. Your dad hates me. How am I going to win them over?” he says, dramatically bopping his head against the wall.

“Miguel,” you sigh. He just groans out shaking his head from side to side. “Baby, look at me.”

The cursed baby card had Miguel at attention.

“You’re sweet. You’re handsome. You’re intelligent. And you’re charming. I promise you, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” you say, reassuring him.

Miguel nods slowly.

“You think I’m handsome?” smile creeping back.

“Oh my god. Is that all you got from that?”

“No! But you called me handsome, so I have to lock that away.”

“You also have himbo tendencies,” you respond.

“All the better to fawn over you with, cariño.”

GymRat!Miguel who curses when the pictures of you in his sweater come in shortly after you in the call. One of them is you on your stomach with the ‘O’Hara’ on full display with your underwear and ass peaking out.

He sets it as one of his wallpapers in record speed.

“How do you expect me to NOT be a himbo?”

“Feral”

“Oh my god. 😭”

GymRat!Miguel who does his same pick up and spin you around number when he sees you a couple of weeks later. You were glowing and giggly.

GymRat!Miguel who casually greets the people in the dorm lobby as he carries you to your dorm room. You didn’t even fight him, as he was always adamant with PDA. You just put your head in his neck and didn’t look up until you were at your door.

You saw the red face of one of the girls living on your hall as Miguel kissed your neck. You quickly averted your gaze, squirming so he could hurry up and open the door. Miguel just assumed you were hungry for more and took even longer to open the door.

“Mig-” you say, cut off as he groans into your skin. “The door, please.”

Your legs wrap around him tighter as he turns to where you were just looking.

“Sorry about that! Got a little excited,” he says to the girl with a wink. She turns even darker and it looks as if steam is about to escape her head as she scurries down the hallway.

“Rude.”

“Miguel!”

“What? She could have said something instead of just watching us.”

“Just please. Open the door, you goof.”

“Yes ma’am!”

GymRat!Miguel who is ecstatic that Jess won’t be there until tomorrow afternoon. He lays you out on your bed and hovers over you.

“I missed you so fucking much,” he says and drops his body on yours. You let out an ‘oof’ relishing in his dead weight.

“I missed you too, Miggy,” you say, patting his head. “Enough to be on my bed with outside clothes on.”

Miguel looks at you, sheepish. “I’ll help you wash them. And pay for it.”

“Yeah you will. But for now,” you pull him close and bring his lips to yours. “Let’s enjoy this.”

He loses track of time and kisses you until your stomach growls for dinner.

GymRat!Miguel who goes all out for Valentine’s Day. He opted to buy you one of the Valentine’s Day packages that the school offers, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt.

He sets up a small breakfast for you and Jess for Galentine’s as a gift for having his back. He had MJ deliver it to you, as he still had class that morning.

He sent you a photo later after his workout, one of your paper kisses on his cheek as he stood in the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist.

You almost screamed in the middle of your studio class.

To end the day, the two of you did a couple challenge in Target. Once back in his car, you both gave each other gifts.

You almost cry when his “something that reminds me of you” gift is in fact not something from Target. It’s a cute bunny necklace inside of a handmade box.

“Miguel! This is so beautiful,” you say, in awe at everything.

He puts the necklace on for you, “A bunny for my baby.”

You devour him with kisses in the Target parking lot.

GymRat!Miguel who’s sweating bullets when your mom comes to visit later that month. He woke up with his stomach rocking. He couldn’t even look Peter in the eye as he stepped out of the bathroom, apologizing profusely.

“Dude, you might not make it out of here if you don’t calm down,” Peter says while lighting a candle he definitely wasn’t supposed to have in the dorms.

“I know, I know. It’s like my body can sense the bad vibes from my brain,” Miguel says, gathering everything for today’s lunch. “I haven’t even eaten anything today.”

“Cheer up, O’Hara,” Peter says as he pats his back. “At least you’re not meeting her parents’ eyes while you’re humping their daughter in their guest bathroom!”

“Jesus, Parker.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs when he sees Gabriel’s texts. He’s sitting in the parking lot of the meeting location an hour and a half early.

“Ik your ass has the bubble guts”

“Remember to breathe”

“And that the dinner with our mom might be waaaay worse”

“Like”

“Miles worse”

“Thanks for the words Gabri”

“Real touching”

“So you’re saying I should become a motivational speaker?”

“Got it”

“Not quite!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs open the restaurant door when sees you from the waiting area. He’s so freaking nervous.

“Hello!” he says, holding the door for you both. Your mom gives him a quick thank you as you all step inside.

“I remember you saying he was tall, but I didn’t know he was this tall!” your mom says to you as she holds Miguel’s arms.

You introduce them, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara. Miguel, this is my mom.”

Miguel almost sputters as you casually call him your boyfriend.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Miguel says, handing her a gift bag and you both a bouquet of flowers. “I have heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” your mother says, shocked at the gifts. “And what a gentleman. You didn’t have to get me these!”

“Please,” Miguel says. “I needed to get something for the woman who brought such a gift to this world for me.”

If Miguel still wasn’t so nervous, he’d chuckle at the twin surprised looks you and your mom were sporting.

GymRat!Miguel who hits it off with your mom quite well. He’s a bit shaky at first, stuttering over simple phrases when the conversations were first starting. You put a hand on his thigh, rubbing your thumb to bring him reassurance. From then on, he just let go.

He’s able to chat about everything she brings up. Even the obscure TV show that she loves to watch. You’re highly impressed with how good he’s doing.

He even apologizes smoothly when the sorority party is brought up. Your mom reaches across the table to hold his hand and tells him that she is proud of him for owning up to his mistakes and taking a stand.

She heads to your car first, giving you two some private time.

“You think that went ok?” Miguel asked, finally relaxing his shoulders.

“I think that it went swimmingly. I also think that I want to kiss you.”

Miguel turns to you, blush high on his cheeks and neck as you walk your fingers up his thigh. You give him a peck on the cheek and say you have to drive your mom back to her car.

Miguel walks you out and waves you all goodbye as you leave the parking lot.

“He is such a handsome young man! Charming, too,” your mom finally says.

“I know!” he was never going to shut up about that once you told him. “What else do you think about him?”

“I think he’s great for you. He’s very smart. Respectful. He’s clearly infatuated with you. He couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You avoid your mom’s gaze as she teases you.

“He was lovely, truly. He has my approval. Now, it’s your father he has to really impress,” she says with a chuckle.

You rolled your eyes, not even ready for that storm.

“As long as he doesn’t break your heart, he has nothing to worry about from me. Your father? One bad day and you might not see Miguel ever again.”

You just tapped your finger on the wheel and pursed your lips, mind lingering near the future.

GymRat!Miguel who talks to you about coming to his house after the semester is over. The midterms were soon but so was spring break. He had to let you know sooner rather than later that his family was going all out with trying to meet you.

“A dinner?” you say incredulously as you look up from your sandwich. “Like at a restaurant or at home?”

“Like a full blown dinner party at my bio dad’s house.”

“That’s,” you say taking a pause as the words settle. “A lot.”

Miguel felt like shit.

“I know. Look, I can tell them to cancel the whole thing. They can see you whenever,” Miguel says, sliding his foot next to yours under the table.

“No. If attending this is how I can make a good impression, then I’m more than willing to attend. I just need to prepare. Starting right now.”

Miguel smiled, “And I’ll be there with you for every step of the way.”

Miguel sat with you and helped you break down every relative that he knew was coming.

Gabriel

You knew him already

Easy to please

Annoying (according to Miguel)

Likes you a little too much (also according to Miguel)

Wants to steal you from him

“Miguel, I don’t think he’d do that. He has a girlfriend,” you say, still writing down notes.

“Baby, I know my brother. He might have a girlfriend but that doesn’t stop him from being Denis the Menace,” Miguel huffs out.

Tyler

His biological dad

A little aloof, but means well

Gifts money like it’s nothing

Might still be a little in love his mom

Will give you a bear hug, unaware of how large he is

“Kind of like you, babe,” you comment.

“But I’m doing way more than hugging you, babe.”

“And he’s in love with your mom?”

“It’s a long story.”

Nancy

Tyler’s wife

Definitely married Tyler for the money but eventually found love with him

Owns a Pomeranian named Lala

A bottle blonde turned housewife

Wanted to actually be on a housewife show until she secretly went to Bravo-con and saw how stuck up all of the housewives were

“I feel like that was pretty obvious, but alright.”

“She’s still not the brightest, but she’s nice.”

Kron

A dickhead

Miguel’s half brother

Tyler and Nancy’s only child after Nancy never wanted to go through the pain of childbirth again. And she didn’t want anymore changes to her body.

A year older than Miguel

A dickhead

“Should I have to stay clear of him?”

“No because if he tries something with you, I will handle him myself.”

George

The dad Miguel grew up with his entire life

Where Miguel gets his hopeless romantic tendencies from

Really likes soccer, wanted one of his sons to be a soccer player but got two nerds instead

Met his mom before she knew she was pregnant with him and charmed his way into her life. He didn’t know that Miguel wasn’t his until he was born and Tyler barged his way into the room when he was originally visiting someone else. He saw Conchata’s name on a baby sign and came in crying.

He still stayed with his mom because he loved her but he made Tyler sweat for ever leaving his mom like he once did: lost

“Your dad punched him?” you ask, stopping your writing.

“Yeah. My mom says it wasn’t pretty. Tyler learned a valuable lesson that day because Nancy came in and slapped him once she figured out what went down. He’s never denied Nancy or my mom a material thing since.”

Conchata

Hard on Miguel but dotes on him a lot now

The reason for a lot of Miguel’s self doubt

Wanted Miguel to be a doctor but has settled with science

Blasts music on Sunday mornings while she cleans, therefore waking the entire house

Will actually give you trouble (hence the conversation from two months ago)

“Did she give Dana any trouble?” you recall Gabriel’s girlfriend. “Is there anything that I need to not do specifically?”

Miguel tilts his eyes up, “Now that you mention it, I feel like she welcomed Dana with open arms. That might be more of a little brother privilege than anything else, though.”

You bit your lip, “That’s not good then. I don’t want her to think awful of me or our relationship.”

“She won’t. She just needs time to process.”

“That makes it sound like I’m stealing you from her.”

Oof.

Abuela

Already eager to meet you

Miguel’s world

Taught Miguel how to do certain meals and crafts as he was almost always at her house

Thinks you’re gorgeous

“She said that I’m gorgeous?” you ask, shocked.

“And talented,” Miguel hums. “And brave. Lots of compliments.”

“Oh!”

GymRat!Miguel who stays pent up all of spring break. He was supposed to be enjoying his days off but instead he’s replaying your whiny voice messages and watching videos of you in his clothes. He doesn’t know how much more he could take.

He looked down at his state. Tissues, lube, ragged sheets, your polaroids, his phone. You were driving him crazy.

GymRat!Miguel who almost sprints around campus when his last final is finished. He’s free! For a couple of months at least. To celebrate, he and Peter are having a small get-together in their dorm room with lots of pizza, wings, jello shots, cake, and games.

GymRat!Miguel who cries like a baby at Gabriel’s high school graduation. His baby, who he raised and cared for, practically birthed, is growing up!

George makes sure to get a wobbly video of Gabriel dancing across the stage and Miguel with snot dripping down his face as he hollers.

“What to do with these two?” George sighed as he wrapped his arm around Conchata.

GymRat!Miguel who tussles with Gabriel later that week after he finds out that he sent that video to you. Their dad has to come break up their play fight.

GymRat!Miguel who isn’t surprised that Tyler managed to pay for all of your transportation and stay ahead of the dreaded Stone-O’Hara dinner.

Miguel picks you up from the fancy hotel and thinks that his dad went overboard.

You're waiting in the lobby when he sees you, stunning as ever.

“Wow,” Miguel says, stunned to stillness as he takes you in, unbeknown of his presence. Your dress is flattering you in every way. His goes from your legs, to your heels, to the necklace he got you for Valentine’s Day adorning your chest.

“Baby, you look amazing,” he says, finally coming up to you.

You look up at him with those deer eyes again.

“You think so? It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all,” he says grabbing your purse and helping you to your feet. “So beautiful, cariño.”

You duck a bit, bashful from his gaze. Miguel leans your head back up, stealing a kiss from your lips.

“If we weren’t expected, I’d take you back up to the room,” Miguel whispers.

You ball your hands on his chest and look around nervously.

“I might have to take you up on that offer tonight,” you whisper back, heart rattling.

It was Miguel’s turn to feel shy. He walked close behind you as you both made your way to his car, mind racing of the things you both could get up to.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks your reaction is adorable when you see just how huge the Stone property is. You can’t believe that one man owns all of this land. Miguel tells you that this is, unfortunately, just the beginning.

GymRat!Miguel who almost knocks Gabriel down. He’s gawking at you like an idiot when he opens the door to Stone Manor.

“Woah,” Gabriel says, mouth gaping like a fish.

“Hello to you too, Gabriel. It’s nice to meet you in person,” you say with a cute curtsy.

Gabriel continues to flounder, mouth opening and closing like that cat meme.

“Will you at least let her in, you idiot?” Miguel barks.

“Sorry! So sorry,” Gabriel says and opens the door further. “That’s really embarrassing. You’re supposed to see my charm and fall madly in love with me.”

Miguel is about to seriously hurt him when Dana comes around the corner and does the job for him.

“Who’s falling in love with who?” she says, elbowing Gabriel in the stomach.

“Nobody and no one!” Gabriel keels over in pain.

“Thank you, Dana. You could probably hit him again for me,” Miguel says. “I want you to meet my girlfriend.”

“It’s a pleasure! The boys have told me a lot about you. I hope that you enjoy tonight’s dinner,” Dana says, reaching her hand out to you.

“Gabriel has said a lot about you as well. He didn’t say how cute you are though!”

Dana blushes instantly and holds her hand over her mouth as she giggles.

“Of course he couldn’t. He was too busy trying to win you over. I might have to beat them both to the punch though,” Dana replies.

Miguel and Gabriel just make the same irritated noise.

GymRat!Miguel who hold your hand as the four of you walk into the dining room. You’re gripping his hand tight as you take everything in.

It was so grand. Like a hotel. The ceiling fixture was huge and intricate. The color scheme was muted with pops of bright white.

It was…a lot.

“There she is! The lady of the hour,” you see a man even taller than Miguel say. He has brightly gray hair that’s styled intricately so. He’s grinning bright as he comes towards you with his arms wide.

He indeed goes for something like a bear hug, just like Miguel said. Except, Miguel is there to steady you when Tyler collides with you a bit too hard.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just so excited to meet you! I’ve heard so much through the grapevine and I remember your emails like they were yesterday! Please, Please! Have a seat.”

“Not before she greets everyone, Ty-Ty!” you hear a shrill voice from behind him. “Sorry about him. He’s like a golden retriever. My name is Mrs. Stone but you can call me Nancy!”

You shake her hand and exchange pleasantries. She snaps her hand behind her with a beckoning motion.

“This is our son, Kron!”

You look up to see a man with platinum blonde hair and a scowl aimed towards his mom that could rival Miguel’s.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, holding your hand out.

Kron eyes your body in a way that makes a horrible feeling go down your spine. His eyes plant themselves a bit too long on your chest before he decides to return the greeting.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says, with a voice that assume was supposed to be smooth. Yuck.

Miguel quickly wraps his hands around your shoulders, “Let’s go meet my other parents.” He turns his mouth up at Kron as he moves you past him. If Tyler or Nancy weren’t there he’d buck at him.

“Mom, Dad, Abuela, this is my girlfriend,” Miguel says with a hand on the small of your back.

“Tan bonitia!” his Abuela cries and walks fast to take your hand into hers. “Eres tan bonita! Miguel! Where did you find such a doll?”

You giggle at her words, bashful at the attention.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. You are extremely beautiful yourself.”

“Oh, a sweet one too! Call me Abuela, yes? ¡Eres un ángel!” she says cradling your face to get a good look at you.

“Gracias, Abuela,” you say, a little softer. Miguel thinks he’s falling in love if he hasn’t already admitted it.

“Come, come! Meet my daughter and son-in-law!”

“This is George!”

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, looking into his eyes with a smile.

“A pleasure to meet you! My son has been in high spirits these past couple of months. And truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for what you did for him. He’s so stubborn, like his pa. He wouldn’t have budged!”

You chuckle at his comments about that O’Hara stubbornness, “It was no effort on my part, Mr. O’Hara. I wasn’t going to let something like that slide.”

You briefly turn to Miguel, trying to find a safety net under all this attention. You were happy to see that he was staring right back at you.

George then stepped to the side and brought Conchata forward, “Speaking of effort, I’d love for you to meet my wife.”

Here was the big one. The one you felt in your heart and soul was the woman of the night to please, the final boss.

“Mrs. O’Hara, what an honor it is to meet you. Miguel has told me countless stories about you. I’m happy to finally meet you face to face, and not just through words,” you say, holding your hand the highest it has been all night.

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was.

You panicked, thinking maybe you said something wrong. You’re about to pull your hand back until she finally reaches out and shakes your hand.

“Yes. You are the one that my son took forever to introduce me to. I’m happy that you made it here tonight. I do hope that you enjoy it,” she says. Her voice was calculating and a little cold.

You didn’t know how to take that so you just smiled and hoped that this was how she acted when she first met new people.

You heard the clinking of a fork against a glass.

“Gather around everyone,” Nancy said. “Dinner is about to be served!”

You all go to your seats. You smile at Miguel as he pulls your seat out and helps you sit at the table. He sits next to you and rubs your thigh, just as you did to him months ago.

Gabriel and Dana are sitting in front of you and Miguel. George and Conchata are to Dana's left as Tyler and Nancy are to your left. Kron has somehow placed himself near the head of the table near the parents, while Abuela is seated at the opposite end near the O'Hara brothers.

Nancy calls your name with glee, "I hope you came hungry because tonight we're doing a six-course meal."

You raise your eyebrows. You didn't know that this was the route they were going to take and from Miguel's face, he didn't know either.

There is an array of what you assume to be butlers and servers to come out, each holding a dish. There's even a chef who comes out with a smug look on his face.

"The theme for tonight is 'Everlasting Love.'"

You watch as Gabriel gives Dana a quick side eye and they communicate a silent conversation within just a few seconds. If you were to guess, it would be something along the lines of "is this serious?" and "as a heart attack."

"The first course is roasted artichoke hearts with a feta dressing drizzle. It represents the budding of a fresh relationship. I do hope you enjoy," he says walking away as the waiters lifted the cloches from the plates.

Below were the tiniest little artichoke hearts you've seen in your life.

As you were grabbing your utensils to begin eating, you could see Gabriel fighting for his life not to let out a laugh, shoulders twitching. Miguel just sighed as he put an entire heart in his mouth.

"So," you hear Tyler start up a conversation. "I hear that you are an art major. I would love to see some of your work. We do need a new painting for the entrance hall."

You wait until you swallow before you answer back, "I would love to create a piece for you! I'm sure you would want to see my work first, but whatever you want, I'm sure I can provide it."

"That's exciting! I'm so tired of seeing that boring white horse everyday. Right, Ty-Ty?" Nancy whines a bit as she leans close to Tyler.

"My wife is right. I'm sure your work will liven up the place!"

"I took that picture of the horse," Kron looked at his parents with a frown on his face.

"Oh, I wouldn't want you all to take that down. I'm sure it's very valuable," you say, trying your best not to upset anyone.

"Nonsense! We can always put the horse somewhere else," Tyler says, patting his son on the shoulder. "There's no need to frown son."

"You don't even know what her art looks like. It could be awful for all we know," Kron mumbles.

Rude.

Miguel's about to open his mouth but you quickly respond, "I would be happy to show it to you. If you don't mind, I can pull up my website right now."

So, you did. There are gasps, oos, ahs, and oh mys as your phone makes its way around the table. Kron's face cracks especially when he sees your work. He gets a little red in the face as he squeezes a compliment out.

By the time the next two courses come out, (an oddly pink soup based on the pool of memories that we store in our hearts and a market salad with cranberries and almonds to represent the start of young love) you've managed to impress the Stones, George, and Abuela plenty more times, shut Kron up four more times, and get an eerie stare from Conchata several times.

She hadn't really said a word since you shook her hand.

You all were enjoying a small palate cleanser of sparkling grapefruit juice to represent the sparks of love at first sight when she finally decides to speak up.

"Where did you get that dress?"

She had your full attention, "Oh! My mom lent it to me. She said it would be perfect for a special occasion."

"Your mom?" Conchata looked concerned. "She didn't think it was a bit inappropriate for dinner?"

You look down at your dress. Your cleavage was on display. You knew it was too much.

"I-I guess it is a bit too exposing," you say, conscience over every rise and fall of your chest she could probably see from her side of the table. You didn't bring a shawl with you either. You couldn't hide it.

"I mean, look at Dana. A long, non-revealing gown," she pans to Dana with a warm smile.

You did look to Dana who looked up, bug-eyed and confused. She looked back and forth across the table, a little incredulous.

"Ma, Dana's entire back is exposed," Gabriel said matter-of-factly as Dana turned her body a bit to show the criss-cross detailing of the string pulling the dress together.

"Sure, but, we can't see it here at this table."

"Conchata, dear, what is this about?" Nancy reaches her hand across the table, concerned.

"This isn't about anything! I'm just making conversation like everyone else here," she responds.

She's about to open her mouth again when her mom bites out a sharp "Conchata!" from the end of the table.

Luckily, the tension is broken by the chef bringing out the fourth course: a rare filet mignon to represent how our hearts bleed as they yearn for love.

How fitting.

You chewed your food in silence, controlling every movement that you could because now you felt that the entire table was ogling your chest.

It wasn't until the second palate cleanser, a red sorbet, came out that you saw that Kron's eyes never left you or your body. You felt sick.

You excused yourself and briskly walked to the bathroom.

You closed the door and took a deep breath. You looked over your appearance again. Was it really too much?

You washed your hands and took a few deep breaths. You were here to meet Miguel's family and make a good impression. Even, if his mom seemed to hate you, you were still gaining the hearts of everyone else. You're doing this for Miguel. Keep it together.

After a short pep talk, you straighten out your dress and your back, wanting to walk back into the room with your head held high.

What you don't expect is to be met with Kron as soon as you open the door.

"I'm sorry, did you need to use the restroom?" you ask, thinking that you were in there too long.

"No, but I was hoping to speak with you," he says, staring you down. "I apologize for my reaction earlier. Your art really is nice."

"Thank you," you say, trying to discreetly step from the door. He really did give you the ick. "I'm sorry that your parents are trying to take your art down. That was never my intention."

"No harm, no foul," he said. "What is confusing is how a pretty little thing like you ended up in Miguel's bed and not mine?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, a dirty look planted on your face.

"I'm not speaking another language, baby. You should dump him and get with the winning team. You'd make a great trophy wife."

"Look, Kron. Chronic. Megatron. Whatever," you say, trying to get away from him as he leaned closer. "I'd really appreciate it if you left me alone. I'm just trying to get back to dinner."

"The one person who you want to notice you is not impressed," he says with a snicker on his lips. "My parents seem to already enjoy you. You could drop this whole gig and be with me. Seriously."

GymRat!Miguel who storms over to where you went with a quickness. You were gone way too long and Kron was nowhere to be found.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Miguel asked with a bass in his voice.

"Great. Now the bear has been poked," Kron says to you. "We're not doing anything, Miguel. Calm down."

"You are doing something because why are you that close to my girlfriend?"

"Is she your girlfriend? Because I'm real close to getting a taste of that-"

Miguel grabs Kron up by his collar so quickly, you almost miss his movement, "You wanna finish that sentence?"

"Hey. Hey!" you whisper-shout, trying not to get the attention of everyone else. "Can we please just make it through this dinner? You two can do whatever you want afterwards. Please."

Miguel lets Kron go who sports a smirk across his face as he heads back towards the dining room.

"Thanks, dollface," he says, shooting you a wink.

Miguel only tightens his fist as he watches him walk away, "I should have hit him."

"Later, baby, please."

GymRat!Miguel who is significantly calmed down by the time you both make it back to the table. You let him breathe you in for a minute or two and it was like the bad energy was drained out of him.

The last two courses were a dessert and a specialty tea. The chef offered them both up at the same time, claiming that they complement each other like two parties in a couple.

You sipped your tea gingerly, happy to have made it to what you hope is the end of a long night.

The dessert in front of you looks delicious. It's in such a cute cherry shape, and it takes everything within you not to take your phone out to snap a picture.

You're about to dig in until you hear Conchata clear her throat.

"Are you sure you don't want to save that until tomorrow? I wouldn't want you to be bloated or anything," she asks hurriedly.

Oh.

So that's what this is about. All the remarks, the stares, the comments. They weren't about your character, your words, or even how you treat Miguel. It was all because of your appearance.

She thought you weren't good enough for her son because of your appearance.

You put the fork down, defeated. Conchata won the night.

Your throat burned as you bit back tears of shame and embarrassment.

"Mom, are you serious right now?" Miguel spoke up, voice cold as ever.

"Miguel don't talk to me like that! I'm your mother."

"A mom that's kinda being a bitch right now," Kron mutters under his breath.

You would agree, but it wasn't your place to make that comment.

Miguel lets that be known as he gets up and socks Kron right across the face.

The entire table is up in a flash, trying to get Miguel off of him.

Tyler is finally able to pull Miguel up after a few minutes. He's heaving, face the angriest you've ever seen it.

He yanks his body from Tyler's and opens his mouth, "This sorry excuse of a party to gang up on my girlfriend is over. I'm sick of it."

"Ma, you really said some horrible things tonight. I've tried for years to remain respectful towards you, but tonight you've really pushed it, and hurt someone that I love."

Love? Your eyes went wide and your heartbeat started to ring even louder in your ears.

"Kron, I've been sick of your bullshit for god know's how long. Biting off of me and my accomplishments is one thing, but cornering and harassing my girlfriend that I chose to bring around you is another. If you ever try that shit again, our poor dad isn't going to be able to get me off of you. You will never be me. Get over it."

"And finally, it seems that only a select few of you can stand up to the consuming fire that is Conchata O'Hara. I love my girlfriend for who she is first and foremost. She was the light that came into my life. You think I'm going to let something as minuscule as her body stop me from loving her? You should be ashamed, ma."

Miguel moves quickly as he shoves two plates in one of the butler's hands and tells him to pack it to go. He then turns to his grandma at the end of the table who didn’t even budge when Miguel snapped.

"Lo siento, Abuela," he whispers to her, truly upset that he let this get this far.

His grandma just gave him a long kiss on the cheek and whispered something in his ear.

"C'mon. We're leaving," Miguel holds your hand as he gets ready to guide you towards the entrance.

You bow to everyone, "I'm sorry about all of this." You're pulled by Miguel who wants to get out of the suffocating manor quick.

What a horrible first impression.

GymRat!Miguel who is silent on the car ride back to your hotel room. He's partially still calming down and partially listening for you to say anything. Your head hasn't turned from the window. He just places his hand in yours, hoping that he can get the message across that he was here for you.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn't see you crack until you're up in the hotel room, the lights are dimmed, and your heels are off. He's quick to wrap his arms around you as you sob. Your cries becoming louder and louder. His heart breaks at every shaky breath that you take.

"I know, I know. I got you, baby," he says, rocking with you, in hopes that you could just breathe.

GymRat!Miguel who helps you unzip your dress, offering to wash your body. You tell him no and that you need that little quiet time to yourself to think. He understands.

He still paces the room while you're in the shower, thinking about the things he should have done to prevent this.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the leftover dessert, still wanting you to enjoy something from tonight. You hum in between bites, sniffling a bit along the way. Even in this state, you were most precious to him.

GymRat!Miguel who kisses away your tears as you let out your insecurities. He reassures you that you're perfect. Body, mind, and soul.

"I love you," he says looking at you deeply. "Honestly, I feel like I've loved you since our group project. I loved you since our smoothie date. I've loved you since carrying your art supplies. I've loved you since listening to you rant about animatronic rats. Since you opened your dorm door pissed off at me. Since our coffee dates. Since our library dates. Since I first saw you with your matching outfits."

You still couldn't believe it.

"You love me?" you say, still trying to comprehend.

"Te amo, mi amor. Deeply and truly."

GymRat!Miguel who keeps you in his arms the entire night, kissing you to oblivion. You're both staring at each other. A faint moonlight peaking through the curtains.

"I love you too, Miguel," you say, words drifting into the night.

It's all Miguel needs to kiss you to sleep.

dividers by: @y-onb + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: If you would like to become my designated Spanish checker or a buddy to help me learn/write my Spanish, please let me know 😭. (There was already someone but I forgot your @ !!!)

As always like, reblog, and COMMENT! Let me know how you feel. 🩵

(I am thinking of putting these on my AO3 because they are officially long enough to be fic chapters lol. The question is...how much should I change the format?🤔)

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

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limarkova · 11 days ago

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Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 2.

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*Author's note: OMG. Thank you guys so much for all the engagement on the first part. I didn’t think my first post would get that much reaction. Also yes I am spree writing this is! If you notice a mistake let me know. PS, the school named in this chapter is fictional and does not exist in the real world.

Alfred listened to the ringing phone line waiting for Bruce to answer. Seeing Miss (Name) in the hallway had been a surprise. He was fairly certain she was supposed to be away at Miss Rose's Boarding School for Young Woman in STEM. After two years of studying in the UK it was strange to have her appear without any notice. Especially since she hadn't visited or sent word in the past.

"Hello Alfred." The line stopped ringing and Alfred was greeted by Bruce.

"Master Bruce. Have you gotten any word from (Name)'s School about a sudden break in the school year?"

"No, why?" Alfred narrowed his eyes at the phone. Well that didn't make sense. Surely her school would notify them if she left.

Alfred began going through his memories. When was the last time Miss Rose's had called the manor? He couldn't seem to recall, they did have the manor's house number on file. "Well she just arrived at the manor and get into a bit of a scuffle with Master Damian. He thought she was an intruder and because I didn't know about her return I couldn't inform him about her in advance. Thankfully she seems unharmed but that was not a good foot to start their sibling relationship on."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "That’s odd, we should have received some kind of notice. Alfred can you call Miss Rose's to see what's going on. I'll wrap up business here quickly and be on the next flight home."

"I will see to it sir." The phone call ended. As Alfred began looking for the correct number to call next, Dick came into the room.

"Hey Alfred, why didn't you tell me baby bird was coming back?" Dick gestured behind him towards the kitchen.

Alfred shook his head slightly, typing in the school's name on Google. "I was not aware she was returning today."

Dick blinked twice, "Wait, what? Her school is in Australia, how did she get on an international flight with no one being aware of it?"

"Her school isn't in Australia." Alfred's eyebrows scrunched together. Dick's mouth made an 'o' shape before clamping into a thin line. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the look before correcting Dick, "Her school is in Birmingham, UK."

"Right, right. Umm, still though how did she get back here without anyone being notified. Even than it's the middle of October, shouldn't classes still be in session." Dick placed his hand to his chin. His eyes took on the focus look he got when he was working on a case or solving a puzzle. Alfred finally got the number written down. Dick looked up at Alfred. There was this dawning look on his face, "Hey Alfred."

"Yes Master Dick."

"Something is really wrong here, we need to keep an eye on her."

Alfred nodded listening to another phone line ringing in his ear, "I agree."

You had to come up with a plan. Escaping the facilities hadn't happened because of rash promises of passion. No it took a year of observation, planning, and waiting. It took you learning every detail that had been place in front of you. Yes you had emotions and gave yourself little dramatic moments but you can't live there.

You grabbed an abandoned notebook on your desk. It was covered in stickers with the first three pages being scribbled on. You ripped them out before beginning to write out everything you knew about the facilities. One they had access to all kinds of medical equipment but it was older equipment that struggled to work sometimes. Two the gaurds were heavily arm with scratched up weapons. The scratching was probably where the serial numbers would've been. Third they had issues getting supplies from a Sionis. Fourth it was based in Gotham evidenced by you being able to find the manor days after escape.

On the next page you wrote out your family member's names. You also add in the new people, Duke Thomas and Damian Wayne. You had written down Talia but stopped to think for a minute.

Yes, your father had likely cheated on your mom with her. But did that make her guilty of destroying your mom's romance? Did she even know about your mother? Maybe your mom was the reason she left causing that line in your mother's diary. Even than you need to focus on the experiments. You could worry about your mother's betrayal later. You scratched Talia off the list.

When you flipped to the next page, there was a soft knock on your door. It creaked open revealing Duke. He offered you a soft smile as he poked his head into your room. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

You looked him up and down. Duke was new to manor and you still couldn't tell if he was visiting or lived here now. A small part of you questioned if he knew about your kidnapping. Did any of your siblings actually know what happeneded or had Bruce just told them the boarding school lie? Did he plan to do it to them too once you proved a success?

You turned back to your notebook scribbling the questions. You'd need to look into during your investigation, "I'm fine."

"I heard about Damian attacking you in the hallway." Duke inched into your room. You turned back a page and underlined Damian's name. Even if he had nothing to do with your suspicions about your father, you were not going let him act like him towards you. Duke chuckled nervously behind you, prompt you to close the book. Can't have them finding out... yet. "Is there someway I can maybe cheer you up? I mean you're clearly upset about something and I want to help if I possibly can?"

He continued to ramble on. You looked around your room as he talked. Eyes landing on your closet you had a slight realization. In your time at the experiments, you had grown. They may have torture you but they hadn't starved you. After all they need you healthy to ensure 'proper' results. The only clothes you had that fit you were probably the ones you were wearing. "Actually there is something."

"Oh! Yeah, what do you need?" Duke smiled brightly. It was as if his teeth were glowing with inner light. If your siblings and by proxy Duke had been told a lie, playing along with it would be smart. After all planning and observing meant staying unnoticed. You offer an unsure smile hoping it would play into what you were saying, "It's a long story but I left the boarding school in a hurry so I completely forgot to pack clothes."

"Okay." Duke made a weird face. Crap, that's not good.

"Yeah and I had a grow spurt so, most of my clothes here don't fit me anymore." You rubbed the back of your neck. Duke's face shifted into realization at your words. Crisis averted for now. You plowed ahead to keep him from asking about the school, making up a lie was not a good idea right now when you knew nothing about theirs. "I need to go clothes shopping. Can you take me to the mall?"

"Of course. What time did you want to go?" Duke made an awkward finger gun gesture towards. He looked tense. Not the tense you saw from the gaurds when you started pressing the line. It was more like the intern in the experiments who never looked at you directly.

You grabbed your notebook and stood. There's was a small backpack by your desk. You slid the book in before sling the bag over your shoulder, "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let me just stop by my room to grab my keys and wallet." Duke held the door open for you. The walk to his room was quiet and slightly tense.

When he stopped at a door on the second floor you couldn't stop yourself from blurting, "So, you live here?"

"Oh yeah." He walked into the- his room. There were a few posters and some knick knacks on the few bookcases. More importantly there were moving boxes in the corner. Some of them were disassembled but a few were still intact with clothes scattered around them. In fact most of the room was covered in stary papers, clothes, etc. Duke grimaced, "Haha, I just moved in two months ago. Let's agree to not tell Alfred about the mess."

"He probably already knows and is silently judging you." A nervous laugh bubbled out of your stomach. The information swirled inside of you uneasily. Two months was awhile but not long in the grand scheme of things. Plus if Alfred didn't mention you than Duke probably didn't know anything. That would make him innocent in your kidnapping.

"Ahh here they are!" Duke's voice broke you out of the mixed up thoughts in your head. He was holding a silver chain with a dark brown wallet and several keys hanging from it. In his search he had basically ripped apart his laundry basket. He kicked the mess back towards the now mostly empty basket, "You ready?"

"Yeah. Can we get something to eat well we're out?" You felt ridiculous asking. It was another stark reminder of how normal everything but you felt.

Yet Duke didn't hesitate to smile at you and offer his hand, "Heck yeah. There's this awesome pizza place in the mall the serves the biggest slices I've ever seen."

"I don't remember the last time I had pizza."

"No way! Let's go, we need to get you a slice ASAP. This is a pizza emergency." Maybe you could make a new normal with him. Once you destroyed the experiments. Duke Thomas was officially off your list for now.

Something had shifted in Duke. He remembered asking his parents for a little sibling when he was four maybe five. They had kissed on the forehead and told him that they didn't need another kid when they had a perfect one in front them. It had made feel happy for a little bit but he always held that small hope.

He thought he would get that with Damian. To a degree he did but it didn’t feel right. Damian was too competitive and strong willed. Duke didn't feel like a big brother, he felt a contestant at worst, a good friend at best.

Taking (Name) to the mall today had made him feel like a big brother. Seeing her slowly relax around him and get excited over tiny things. Like the cute dress at Justice, the pizza slice that was as big as her head, and the look on her face when she saw Barnes & Noble. He probably spent his whole allowance for the week but he didn't care. He had made his little sister happy.

They had one last stop to make before going home, Claire's. Duke insisted that she look around well he grabbed something. He went straight to friendship necklaces. There were quite a few to choose from. Crystals, Cats, The Wicked Musical. Than he saw it. Two pastel tie-dye koalas hugging it each, it was perfect. Duke immediately grabbed it before going to find her.

That's when he noticed something was wrong. She staring at something and shaking violently. The look in her eyes told him that she had gone off somewhere else mentally. He looked towards what she was looking at to see the piercing station.

There was an attendant cleaning off a newly open needle. The smell of alcohol wipes and disinfectant clear in air. He placed himself in between her and sight. "What’s wrong, kiddo?"

"I wanna go home." (Name) didn't speak about a tight whisper. Something in Duke began howling. This was wrong, she shouldn't be scared. He was there to protect her.

"Okay, but first I need you to tell me something. Where are you?" Duke tried to remember what they do for Jason when he gets like this. Fuck why was it so hard right now.

"I don't like needles." Her eyes flicked to his. They were wide and blaring with barely contained rage.

"That’s okay, but I need you to tell me where we are." Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tighten. He continued on, "I need to know you're here with me. Mentally."

"The Mall."

"We can go." Duke grabbed her hand gently. They paid and left. Once they were in the car, she relaxed again. Duke palmed the necklace in his hand. He had taken it out of the package. His own necklace was already around his neck.

She was staring out the window. The look in her eyes made Duke pause. She watching the setting sun like it was first time she was seeing it. Mute awe painted her face like a classic painting. Duke pulled the little koala out of his pocket, "Hey, I got you something."

"Is it half the back seat?" She looked behind her to the bags. Barnes & Noble, The Childern's Place, Justice, and Build-a-Bear. Four places that equated to Five separate bags. Duke snorted before bursting out laughing.

"No. Jeez no, it's this." He held out the little koala necklace to her. Her eyes looked towards his own chest, where the other koala already hung. A friendship necklace. She took it into her hands gently. That classic painting look returning, mixes of sentimental joy and some unnamed human emotion that was baffling.

"Thank you, Duke."

"It's no problem." Duke wrapped his arm around her in an weird side hug over the center console. He had always wanted a little sibling and now that he had one he was never to going let her go.

"We might want to get back to manor before curfew." (Name) pointed to the digital display announcing 6:15pm. Duke cursed, shoving his keys into the ignition. She began to laugh hysterical. The manor was two hours away and 'curfew' aka patrol debrief was at 7pm. Duke flew out of the parking lot with manically laughing ten-year-old.

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@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills

#yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd #yandere duke thomas #yandere barbara gordon #yandere bruce wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere talia al ghul #yandere ra's al ghul #no beta we die like jason todd #no beta we die like men

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freetheworms · 1 year ago

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@petrowriting your tags are too good to lose inside the tumblr machine

Would you like to talk about what happened to Frederick Chilton?

#and i can’t use prev tags anymore THANKS TUMBLR #fr though you’re so absolutely right #we can guess at his motivations and his inner world in the same way hannibal does #mind you i’m sure hannibal comes at it from a different perspective lmao #but we’re all projecting motivations onto him whether consciously or not because he keeps himself so hidden #because we simply do not know. jack does it as well #depending on whose perspective you take here will can be a whole different character #i’ve seen people write him as plain bloodthirsty and be correct. i’ve seen them write him as morally righteous in his killing and be correct #ive seen them write him as both comfortable and uncomfortable with hannibal’s actions and i can justify both angles #and yet i’ve seen people write him in a way that feels entirely wrong (to me)#so what’s even more interesting is that there IS some sense of who he is in fact. something that makes him will graham #but it’s flexible in many ways which makes it so hard to nail down #you can watch the show repeatedly with a different will in mind and have a whole different experience #and don’t even get me started on the difference in will between seasons!!! same guy and yet?#has hannibal changed him? or was he always hiding this side of himself?#aaaaand that’s the million dollar question #anyway. will graham everybody!#hannibal

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juletheghoul · 6 months ago

Text

crossing the line

a/n: I have been possessed by this man, he has singlehandedly cured my writers block. This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for joining in the hysteria with me, thanks for cheering me on my love Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus jerking it so right, creampie, vaginal fingering, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.1k

reblogs are appreciated

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Maybe someone else would have been upset to see how little they owned in the world, but it made no difference to you. The tunic on your back, an extra one to swap out for cleaning, a shawl, and a pair of sandals. That was all you had, that was all you needed, not much to fill your new quarters, modest as they were. Only let you get accustomed to your duties all the quicker.

You held no melancholy at having been sold into the service of another, it was the story of your life and had happened before. You had no doubts that it would happen again. Instead, you focused on learning the layout of the new villa that would be your home, on learning the moods of your new Dominus and praying to the Gods that he was not heavy handed with his slaves.

You’d been purchased by none other than Marcus Acacius, the General of the army of Rome.

Getting used to being in his presence took great effort, meeting his gaze was akin to being struck by lightning. He had the unique power to make your stomach roil like waves, but it wasn’t always an entirely unpleasant feeling. He was older, his hair streaked with gray and his face lined with age but it did nothing to diminish his beauty, or his prowess. You could almost believe he was a marble statue, an Emperor of the past, come to life. He’d caught your eye instantly.

Months passed, then a year, and you did indeed learn his moods. You learned all about his needs and did well to anticipate his wants, so much so that eventually, he had you follow him around like a shadow. Your prayers had been answered, although his moods could get quite dark, he never raised his hand to anyone in his service. He had no need to. He could correct any misstep with a look. There was a cloud that loomed over him though, an intensity, an air about the man of bottled energy. Any words he did speak were short, and cut to the heart of the matter and despite the fact that he never hurt you or the others, you thought it might only be a matter of time before someone got the brunt end of his misplaced wrath.

“He has been away from the battlefield for too long, pay him no mind. Do your duties, and he will settle.” One of the older women in the house noticed the way you wring your hands at his dark temperament, seeing her unbothered by it did much to calm you.

You didn’t notice it at first, but more and more often you felt his eyes linger on you. Felt him follow as you set the table with his meals, when you helped him dress in the morning, more still when you helped him with his night time rituals. He was unabashed and unrelenting, his eyes traveling the length of you, lingering on the swell of your breasts when you stood before him, on your backside when you walked away. You knew the look, had seen it in countless men in the houses you’d served before. You’d seen on the boy that served with you when you were both coming to the age of such things, when young men stretched and grew overnight, and girls flowered, breasts blossoming and blood coming at the turn of the moon. You had seen it in the young man that had taken your chastity, fumbling at your tunic when everyone had gone to sleep.

At first it had shocked you, not because of some notion of propriety or disgust, this was something that happened in every house. The Dominus was there to be served, no matter what they wanted, it came with your station in life, what shocked you, was how welcome his gaze was. How much you relished his heated stare, how much you wanted him to look at you, always. He’d been the object of every heated fantasy you’d had since stepping foot in the house but you’d been under the impression that he was a solitary creature, uncaring for the company of anyone, except his hounds, two great big beasts that he doted on. He never pressed the matter however, and so you contented yourself with your dreams.

He’d been gone most of the day, leaving you to help the other attendants with their duties, and the time passed quickly, and with the moon rising you thought it best to go to sleep–trusting that by this hour, surely he’d be staying put. With your own clothes washed and hanging to dry for the morning, you settled into bed. It was not to last however, one of the older women came through not long after you’d undressed and gotten into bed and announced that he’d arrived, looking for you.

“God’s be damned.” You swore under your breath, “Gratitude, I will see to him shortly.”

You had no choice but to put on one of the damp tunics, hissing at the frosty touch but running off to tend to him just the same.

With a light knock to announce your presence, you entered his private chambers.

“Apologies Dominus, I had thought you would be gone until the morning.” You bowed your head in deference to him, “Shall I fetch food and wine? Or will you be going to sleep?” His eyes were narrow slits, fixed on your body. You looked down to where he stared and noted that the wet fabric left nothing to the imagination. The dark patch of hair between your legs was clear as day, as was everything else. “Apologies Dominus, I had washed them when I thought you would be gone.” You stood there, the room pregnant with tension as he looked his fill. After what felt like hours, he looked up to your face and the expression made your nipples harden, a fact he did not miss.

“No, Girl. I am not hungry.” He set about undressing and you hurried to help him, doing your best to keep your touch from lingering too long. “I will cleanse and go to sleep. Snuff out some of these candles, and be off to bed.” His voice was low, and it opened a river between your thighs, the arousal for him so sharp it ached.

“Yes Dominus.” You did as he asked, leaving only a couple of candles burning near his bed, and leaving him there. You were just closing the door to your quarters when you realized his basin had not been filled, so you ran back to make sure he had the water he needed. It would have to be cold at this hour.

This time, you did not knock, hoping that he’d still be preoccupied enough that you could just slip in, fill his basin and slip out.

There was a slick, rhythmic noise that greeted you, along with a low, guttural groan. His chamber was darker without as many candles but the sight that greeted you was clear as day, and would forever be burned into your mind. Him, bathed in candlelight, his cock thick and shiny with his pearly arousal.

His strength could never be denied, but like this, with his arm flexing with each long stroke, his muscles glinted. You’d seen all manner of people nude in your service, there was no shame in it. The human body was a work of art and growing up and giving into desires meant you’d seen men nude and ready to rut, but this was something else. The young men you'd been with were callow boys. This was a man.

You stood there, frozen, and aching with an emptiness you hadn’t felt this keenly in so long.

He felt you then, and looked up to see you watching him and before you could say anything he focused on the place so clearly visible through the wet fabric between your legs and moaned a filthy moan. You didn’t know whether to drop the jug of water and run, or mount him like you would a wild horse. You bit your lip, willing him to beckon you forth to him.

“Did you come back just to torment me, girl? Or would you lend a hand?” He watched your face, letting you decide what you wanted, you put the jug down and walked towards him.

“I live to serve you, Dominus.” His brow furrowed with every step you took until his face tipped up to look into your eyes.

“Take that off–” He grunted the last word, squeezing his cock in his fist while you obeyed. “Put your foot right here.” He gestured to the spot beside his thigh, and you did. “Spread it open. I want to see it.” He watched your sex, his mouth opening in a silent ‘O’ when you complied. “Are you wet for me, girl?” He sped up, fucking his fist in earnest.

“Yes Dominus.” You slipped your fingers down, dipping them inside for a moment before showing him. He moaned again and your heart felt like a hummingbird in your chest. He grabbed at your fingers with his other hand and shoved them into his mouth, eyes closed and groaning around them and it was almost too much.

“Take it Dominus, take me.” You whispered, watching his rapturous gaze with unwavering desire. You had no time to think, because within a second, he was up and pushing you down onto his bed, settling between your spread thighs. His sex hung heavy, an angry red and for a moment your stomach dropped imaging it inside you.

“This will be quicker than I would wish it to be,” He grasped himself in hand, almost trembling as he lined himself up and sunk inside with one, quick thrust. “Gods above, girl, this little cunt was made for me.” He couldn’t hold himself back or give you time to adjust to his size, instead he set a brutal pace, and you held on, with arms around his neck and legs high on his hips for dear life.

Your fingers ached with how tightly they gripped the curls at the base of his skull. You pulled him closer, needing to feel his weight as he stretched you open on his length, over and over, making everything bounce with the force of it. He was right about it being quick though, a handful of pumps was all it took for him to seize up, one hand palming your breast as he seized with a growl. You felt it, the spurt of him deep inside.

“It is a gift, my gift.” He watched himself, hissing with discomfort as he pulled himself out. “My seed, just for you.” His breath came in pants as he drew himself out, softened and spent and you were struck again by his beauty. With the flush of exertion blooming on his cheeks, and the rare smile on his lips, you couldn’t help but mirror the expression, even as your own climax slipped away with every passing second. “Your turn, now I must see pleasure on your face.” He huffed out the words before laying on his side to your right, resting his head on one hand to gain a better view of you spread out beside him.

His fingers found the source of divinity between your legs.

“Spread those pretty thighs nice and wide for me, girl, I would have access to all of you.” He spoke low, pressing his lips to your temple as his fingers used the slip of his own mess to stoke the fire spreading through your veins. “So lovely.”

The reverence in his tone was so at odds with the confidence in his fingers, his skill was no tawdry thing and within a few moments the euphoria was so close you could taste it. You turned your face to him, silently begging for his mouth and he obliged, his kiss sweet as summer wine and all at once the wave crested. Your legs closed of their own accord, but this only bolstered him to slip two fingers inside, pumping through his seed and your liquid desire, laughing softly at the way you clutched at his arm.

All of the times before, had been a jest. It was hard to know if anything you felt before could even be called pleasure.

“Can you walk?” He pressed his lips to your shoulder, lowering them until he took a nipple into his mouth. You nodded.

“Yes Dominus.” He placed a final kiss to the soft skin of your breast, the whiskers on his face tickling you.

“Very well, off to bed.” The smile was gone, but it was replaced with a sleepy, satisfied look, one that you were sure would be gone in the morning.

“Yes Dominus.” You rose, on shaky legs, grabbed your damp tunic, and slipped out of his chambers.

—

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus acacius #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #general marcus acacius #Marcus acacias x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #the general

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 18 days ago

Text

SHOULD HAVE KISSED YOU

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem! Summary: when made to participate in a school fundraiser, Eddie finds himself actually having fun. Warnings: none

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"Mister Munson, you have to be a part of this school!" Principal Higgins exclaimed to the boy sitting on the other side of the desk, protesting

"I've been apart of this shitty school for 6 years" Eddie hummed lowly

"what was that?" the older man raised and eyebrow, his hands on his hips as he looked down at the rebellious teen in front of him

"what do you want me to do?" he got in response

"Miss Kelley is holding a fundraiser- u-an auction, of sorts.. you'll be participating"

Eddie frowned "an auction? what you want me to go up and hold items for people to bid on?"

"you'll be the item"

Eddie scoffed "what's that supposed to even mean?"

he stared at the principal and almost laughed, was this a joke? he fails a few times and is now being punished

"it means you'll go up and girls will bid on you- a date with you"

oh Eddie definitely laughed at that, does he think he's funny? he must because that was the funniest thing Eddie's ever heard

"yeah, right" he snorted

"Mister Munson, do you want to graduate this year?" Higgins asked rhetorically.

this wasn't a joke, this was serious

"what's a stupid fundraiser going to do to help me graduate?!" Eddie raised his voice before looking away when the man scolded him

"well, lucky for you, Edward, this school will do just about anything to get rid of you-" The older man started before getting cut off by Eddie

"-How flattering" he hummed

"-so, we'll be granting you with extra credit if you do this, and if you get at least a C in Miss O'donnells, it will be enough for you to graduate" the man finished, crossing his arms

"what type of fundraiser activity is that anyway! I'm no help, I can assure you no body is bidding on me, Higs" Eddie rolled his eyes

"well, lucky for you, you don't need to be bidded on to participate, just showing up is enough"

"this is ridiculous" Eddie mumbled, slumping down in his chair

there was no way he was going to do this.

"oh please, Mister Munson, It's not the end of the world, just a simple date to the fun fair is the most you'll do" Mister Higgins shook his head, deciding this was the end of the discussion.

he shooed Eddie out of his office after telling a few simple details about the night he should be ready for

"and please, have some school spirit" he said before closing the door behind Eddie.

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You sat in the school gym with your friends when Miss Kelley announces the boys up for auction

you had already seen the list a week prior and and had no interest, unlike your friend, Becky, who was more than excited to bet on a handsome mister Mike Lewenski.

your opinions on the fundraiser were mixed.

although a great way to make a few bucks, it was more of a way on telling which girl liked who. but even so, if they won the guy, it's a free date without the definite rejection most of them would face if they had just asked the guy out

so, while it saves a few rejections here and there, and could be seen as a trial run for a relationship, it's also a pit of thirsty women who want to dig their teeth in to a free date with a cute guy, especially if it's Gary McKlaren.

so to say you were the least interested was correct, but you were open to any changes if proven wrong.

The boys walked in the Gym single file and lined up behind Miss Kelley

you snorted at the sight of Eddie Munson 2nd last in line

you had browsed the list at least 3 times, you think you'd notice his name on the paper on the notice board. he must have been a last minute addition, which is pretty smart if you look at how many girls there are in school ready to bid.

but Eddie Munson, the freak? were they having a laugh?

you'd spoken to the guy a max of 5 times this year, he wasn't actually as bad as people made him out to be.

you weren't friends though; you wouldn't go that far. you'd be metaphorically killed if you were associated with him, so God forbid that ever happening.

Eddie huffed, looking out to the Gym seats.

he'd rather be doing anything else right now other than being at school, on a saturday afternoon, ready to be humiliated in front of what looks like 100 girls he's never spoken to (and doesn't plan to)

he frowned at the outfits the other boys had dressed up in, adorned in button up shirts and trousers, some even had a bowtie around their necks.

He mentally shook his head at the effort, because as they all dressed up fancy, like the organisers of this stupid even told them to, Eddie was still dressed in his normal attire, Black jeans and a dio shirt, his leather jacket hiding the cut off sleeves Eddie had fixed it up with. it's not like he was here to impress anyway

he would be here for 30 minutes max before driving back home alone.

"lets bring up our first boy of the evening, shall we. Toby Glover, everybody!" Miss Kelley claps.

She went on to describe the boy, hobbies, likes and interests before looking out to the crowed

"starting the bid at five dollars!" she smiled before a girl put her hand up, then a few others

Toby was baught at 20 dollars to Tracy Dekert.

then the next boy was up. Dylan Mantella.

it took a few seconds for a girl to put her hand up. but then another one did.

Dylan was bought for 10 dollars by Gracie Moore.

Jason Carver stood tall as he took a step closer, immediatley being bought by Chrissy for 5.

Then it was Mike Lewenski.

"He likes to play Football and the band Queen" Miss Kelley smiled

Becky's hand flew up as soon as the teacher announced 5 dollars, and glared at the girl on the other side of the bleachers when she outbidded her

"15!" Becky yelled out before the other girl said "17!"

they went back and fourth a few times before the other girl huffed and ran out of money

Mike was bought for 23 dollars by Becky, who cheered beside you

Then it was Gary McKlaren.

Miss Kelley didnt even get to describe his hobbies before a bidding war broke out. at least 10 girls fighting for him

yeah, he was popular. it made sense

Gary was bought for 50 dollars by Denise Weller.

Brian Gibley was bought for 5 dollars

Matthew Schneebly was bought for 25 dollars

and then Thomas Smith stood there for a few moments

that was when 2 girls put their hand up

you weren't sure if that was out of pity or they were just too shy to put their hand up, But Thomas looked like a whole bunch of weight lifted off of him when he was bought for 8 dollars

"now we have the...lovely Mister Edward Munson!" Miss Kelley announced, she looked nervous as she said his name, trying to find a praise but had to lie through her teeth

Eddie stood forward and clicked his tongue, looking out dully to the seats of girls and young women.

"E-Eddie likes um- Metal music? and uh- is a owner of a club" she spoke, she didn't know anything about Eddie, only that he was a satanist.

"5 dollars?" She announced with a tight smile, looking out to the crowd

you looked down at Eddie from your seat

his hands were in his pockets, he definitely didn't want to be here, but you could tell by the silence in the room he was...insecure?

you looked around the room, did no girl want him? did no girl see anything in him?

surely there was one girl to look past the scary demeanor of his figure and see something to like, but the only thing to hear was an awkward cough

you frowned, you felt bad, you really did.

Eddie looked down at his feet when Miss Kelley spoke into the mic "no bidders?" she asked as if she didn't know no body wasn't going to buy him

you closed your eyes and slowly lifted your hand.

it was just because you felt bad

"oh, we have a bidder! 5 dollars going once, twice, SOLD!" she banged her gravel on the wood. surprised.

Eddie munson was bought for 5 dollars. by you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Eddie was surprised when you put your hand up.

but Eddie was very Surprised to see you walk up to him afterwards, a smile on your face, a tight one, he knew it wasnt real

"hey" you greeted

Eddie looked at you confused, like you had grown two heads or that something was wrong with you, but he replied nonetheless

"hi" he said

you looked around the hall, seeing the floods of single girls walk out of the hall, glaring at you with the same look Eddie had a second ago.

"so um-" he licked his lips, sighing

"we don't have to go on the date.." you spoke in a rush, looking back at him

of course, Eddie thought to himself, of course you wouldn't want to go on a date with him

Eddie kicked himself for thinking you would for a split second.

"if you don't want to" he shook his head

this was awkward.

so awkward

"it's not that I.. don't want to. i do...but you- you probably have better things to do so..." you hummed, rolling on your ankles as you looked away from him

"I dont...and I don't want you spending money on me for nothing.." he mumbled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

you were probably the first girl to talk to him, Willingly, without buying drugs- the first girl to be nice to him to his face.

Eddie doesn't get that often, or at all for that matter, so you were...special. you could say. to him.

you weren't friends, you probably didn't want that. and he doesn't blame you, but it still hurts deep down, where he wont admit it

"it's fine.. it would be embarrassing to be the only person who didn't get bought so..."

yep, that was the only reason you bidded on him, you both thought to yourself

"yeah, I guess you're my saviour, then" he joked, though he didn't find any humour in it

Because you had told him you bought him out of pity, thats not funny or you being nice, thats just sad.

you agreed to the joke and looked around, the hall was empty now, all the girls gone, a few out to their date and all the rest on their way home, alone. some going to the fair with their friends.

"I'll uh- see you next week then?" you stepped back, going to walk away

"I thought you wanted to go?" he frowned

"i thought you didn't?" you raised an eyebrow

"eh.. i feel like i owe it to you, besides i think Principal Higgins and Miss Kelley will be there and if they don't see us- or at least me there, I won't get my credit cause i left you" he shrugged

that was it, it was just for the extra credit

"ok, sure" you nodded

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you walked side by side into the fun fair, you were a little nervous to say the least but it's not like you were gonna be here for a long time

Eddie had said he owed you and just wanted to be seen, so he'd probably just say a quick hello to the principal and spend five bucks on a quick game before calling it a day

that seemed fair, though.

he brought you over to the little games with various toys hung on the wall

"you wanna play a game? i'll try to win you a bear or somethin'" he looked down at you, pointing to the stall where you shoot at a few cans to win

you shrugged when you met his gaze, his big brown eyes full of the bright colours from the lights flashing from the games, the yellows and reds illuminating his face as he turned to you.

he looked pretty good

"sure" you replied shortly, looking away from him, letting him guide you to the line.

his hands were in his pockets as he looked around briefly. it made you wonder if he wanted to be here.

but on the inside, Eddie was almost shitting himself, cause here he was, in the line of a game with you next to him. this was a date, unadmittably his first date- if it even counted

and it's not just because it's a date, it's because it's with you, the only girl- bloody hell- woman that's ever been nice to him. to look at him like he's not a freak who sold his soul to the devil.

and God, did you have to look so pretty good?

he looked away when you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and stepped forward, it now being your turn

the guy spoke enthusiastically, explaining the rules as Eddie picked up the fake gun.

you took the time to scan over the plush toys, the big bat hanging upsidedown from the roof of the stall made you smile.

you smiled at Eddie as he lifted the gun to his face, squinting his eyes before shooting his first shot.

your eyebrows raised at his shot, impressed as you stood beside him

Eddie lowerd the gun, putting another pellet in the gun when he caught your gaze, looking over at you awkwardly

you blinked and smiled tightly at him before looking away "did- sorry did you want to shoot?" he frowned, now noticing that he should have let you play- or at least asked you

"oh no, it's ok I uh- I don't know how to shoot a gun" you breathed, letting out a dry chuckle

"it's pretty easy, here" one of his hands let go of the gun to each out for your own hand.

you let him take your hand and you tried to hide the blush rising quickly on your cheeks, looking away as he pulled you closer

he stood behind you, his broad chest against your back as he instructed you, you held the gun with his hands over yours, his arms wrapping around your frame to help you

"Just look through this little hole right here." he pointed to a little circle on the top of the gun, and you slowly raised the gun to your face, quinting to look through the hole.

"aim it" he told you

you lined it up with the can and he took one of your fingers to place it on the trigger.

the feeling of his hot breath fanning on your neck sent shivers down your shine as it contrasted with the cold brisk air, but you were so hot right now.

did he have to be so close to you?

he waited a second before he pressed on your finger, pressing down on the trigger, shooting the gun.

you closed your eyes as the loud bang and the feeling of him pressing up against you. Why did you like it?

"ahh good try, you just grazed it" Eddie spoke, mumbling something that you couldn't here before you opened your eyes

you could see a little dent in the can but it hadn't toppled over or fallen, signifying a miss.

you shoulders dropped and your frowned, looking over your shoulder to see Eddie smiling softly

"you'll get it this time" he reassured you, lowering the gun

you shook your head "i'll let you do it, you obviously know what you're doing" you flushed, smiling before stepping to the side to get out of his hold

it was then when Eddie realised that he was manhandling you and his eyes slightly widened. Had he made you uncomfortable? he really hoped he hadn't. he dropped his hands and let you slip away from in-between him and the gun and looked away sheepishly

you finally felt like you could breathe as you let out a deep sigh you didn't know you were holding

why was he making you feel this way?

Eddie put another pellet in the gun and shot it effortlessly before he put the last one in.

he didn't even flinch at the loud bang! noise it made when he shooted, or lost his footing, he was a natural.

you don't know what you expected though, he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to shoot a gun, he had that look to him

you didn't want to say it but- he did have the dangerous kind of look to him, but throught the few talks you've had with him, you would hightly doubt he would even shoo away a stray cat if it made home on his porch.

he put the final pellet in and aimed it before shooting it, you watched as it bounced off the bar and fall back to the ground.

you smiled and clapped when the guy announced a winner

"so..what will it be for the lovely lady?" he said looking at you as you stood forward.

the long haired metalhead looked over at you, nodding to the wall of toys.

you opened your mouth, and your eyes landed on the bat again, pointing up at it "the bat?"

the man smiled and got the bat down, passing it to Eddie as you backed away to get out of the line, which was small but growing impatient.

Eddie followed after you and handed the bat to you.

"here ya' go" he smiled.

the bat was even bigger than it looked, bigger than your head, at least.

you brought it up to your chest and thanked him before walking awkwardly away from the stall

"you're pretty good with a gun" you said break the silence between you and him, the blush on your face appearing again as you looked over at him

"yeah? well.. my dad taught me when I was younger so... had a good teacher I guess" he let out a breathy chuckle, kicking his feet.

of course. everyone knew the stories of AL Munson. so your weren't surprised when Eddie told you he made him go hunting with him before he got sent to prison

"made me shoot more than just tin cans.." He shighed

you hummed, walking towards the enterance before Eddie stopped you

"Where are ya' going?" he asked, a deep frown covering his features as he looked around

you grew confused too "I- I thought we were leaving?"

Eddie's face dropped at your words, looking down "oh. I mean if you want to. I just thought- I- I was kinda havin' fun. with you so..."

Eddie was having fun with you; it wasn't a lie. he didn't want to leave just yet, he wanted to play a few more games and if he got lucky, get to know you more. he doesn't know exactly why but he knew he liked being with you tonight

but it's probably because it's either this date with you, or a lonesome date between him, his couch and a cold can of beer.

you stepped back to him and smiled "I am too... I just thought- but yeah, let's go"

the sky turned dark as Eddie and you played a few more games and shared a fairyfloss stick.

you were having fun, laughing and getting embarrased when you got shoved closer to Eddie when a few kids ran past you to the rotating tea cups.

"sorry" you mumbled, stepping away from the metalhead as he tensed up at the contact.

"'s'okay" he smiled, noticing the way you hugged the bat plush in your arms

it was night time- and winter. So were you cold?

so he asked you "d'ya want ma'jacket?"

he frowned when you shook your head quickly "no it's ok, don't worry"

you felt your cheeks grow hot again as he began taking his leather jacket off, exposing his biceps arms that were adorned in dark tattoos.

the bats caught your eye.

you had seen them before, of course, but they made you frown

you looked down at your bat plush toy and hid your face in it sheepishly

when it caught your eye, you didn't know why you were drawn to it the way you were

it reminded you of something, but at the time you picked it, you just couldn't pinpoint it

but now, looking at his tattoo, you realised it was that and you grew embarrassed, did he think you wanted it because of him? well technically you did- no, no you just liked it...right?

"it's ok, really" you shook your head as he handed it out to you

"Please, I don't want you to be cold" he pleaded

he was such a gentleman, you don't get why people did see that, there was something clearly wrong with society to shut out this beautiful specimin of a man like him, he's just so kind and gentle. no- snap out it.

you squeezed the fluff of your plush as he draped it over your shoulders, smiling

"what about you?" you wondered

he only shrugged "m'fine" he looked down, putting his hands in his pockets "as long as you're warm"

you chuckled softly as you looked around

"ferris wheel?" he asked after a beat

you looked to the ferris wheel and nodded "sure"

you let him guide you and you smiled as you got the line

the fair music filled your ears as you slowly moved up the line.

the line was pretty long, trying to see the lights from above and the kids thinking they can see the whole town from the top. they were wrong but let kids be kids, you thought.

when you reached the front, you stepped up and Eddie quickly handed the guy a few coins, letting your guys on. you sat down, your bat plush sat on your lap as the guy pulled the bar down, letting it click before leaving you with Eddie in the closer proximity

your shoulder to shoulder with Eddie when it began to move. going backwards

you looked over at him and smiled sheepishly before looking away

he cleared his throat before pointing to the bat you were cuddling

"do you like bats?" he questioned

you looked down and shook your head

"no..not really. I just thought he was cute" you shrugged

he hummed "have you named him?"

you giggled "no, not yet" you looked at him, finding a teasing smile on his lips and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"I don't- It might be childish, but I don't have a lot of them..." you soft quietly, fiddling with your fingers as the ferris wheel went up again

"No.. I.. I don't think it's childish.. I have a uh- I have a bear on my bed.. Ozzy... so. it's cute" he nudged your shoulder softly

you smiled, still a little embarrassed but it made you feel better that he admitted that.

you think it was cute.. that he of all people slept with a teddy bear, you feel as though you've learnt a lot about him today

it's almost like this wa a real date.

it made you hope he thought it was a real date too.

"do you..like bats?" you pointed to his swarm of bats tattooed on his arm

he looked down and nodded

"yeah I guess.. it's more of that they are seen for good luck and uh..protection.. I guess" he mumbled the last bit

you raised your eyebrows "really?" you tilted your head

"yeah.. don't know where i found that but I though i needed it so..."

"cool" you nodded

his eyes met yours again and you saw his adams apple bob in his throat as he looked at you

your bench stopped at the top as fireworks began exploding in the sky, painting the sky in all different colours, but you didn't look away from Eddie, for some reason, your eyes stayed on him

the sprays of colour reflecting in his eyes as he looked back at you. you wonder if he could see the fireworks in your eyes too.

"thank you, for today.. I've had fun" you spoke, wanting to ease this tension in the air.

"Yeah.. I've had fun too... with you" he said

you didn't know what was happening. why butterflies filled your stomach and made you feel sickly.

Eddie was shitting himself again, the look in your eye made him so weak he was happy he was seated. you looked so pretty in this light. it almost made him want to thank Mister Higgins for making him do this. but after this, he woudn't have any reason to talk to him unless it's to tell him he'd be graduating.

he can't explain how he felt in this moment, but all he knew was that he really wanted to kiss you.

but you don't want to kiss the freak? no matter how many times you've told him you don't see him as one, that's what he is, what he always will be.

Besides. You did this out of pity, right?

Amd it's not like he likes you, right?

but all Eddie can think of as he forces himself to look away is that he wants you to like him

he wants to know why he feels this way, why the burst of colour in the sky wasn't the only fireworks in the air tonight.

he had taken you home after that, sadly saying goodbye as he drove you home, the only sound in his van being the metal music he set to low as he thought about how much of an idiot he is.

all while you had felt completley embarrassed, and if you're going to be honest, a little angry, though you're not sure why

you wanted him to kiss you, but why? you didn't like him like that, this was just because you felt bad

but you wanted him to like you.

I should have kissed him, you thought as you walked into your home.

I should have kissed her, Eddie thought to himself as he drove off.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

#x fem!reader #imagines #fluff #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem #might make a part 2 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic

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greenglowinspooks · 1 year ago

Text

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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songmingisthighs · 5 months ago

Text

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. v

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 5.2 k

warning : adultery, cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, name calling, (y/n) finally growing a damn spine frfr

a/n : i'm finally updating this oh my god has it been so damn long I am saw sawrey for skipping updating in july. let's hope I can update twice on September or just not forget to update in september lmaoooooo i

buy me coffee ?

Ever since that day at the hospital, you felt like you've been living your life on autopilot. Scratch that, it felt like you were just watching your life happening like a movie. You couldn't quite feel anything and it was as if life's choices were already made for you.

Oh yeah. Choices.

As if that word meant anything to you.

You were reluctant to go back to see Wooyoung at the hospital as he had once again been put on a 24-hour observation period because he had exhibited signs of mental distraught on top of his back pain. Ironic. Your plan was to pack some of his shit up, throw it at him and tell him that he could finally go live with his whore and just make an exit from his life and maybe for once you could work your children into your decision instead of it going the other way.

But of course, life had a different plan because the devils must be making snowmen in hell.

Once your children were made aware of the situation their father was in (all thanks to San, one of Wooyoung's partners who struck up a conversation with Dayoung when he came by the house to drop off some things Wooyoung had requested from earlier in the morning), they immediately asked to be taken to him. At that moment you wanted to tell them that it wouldn't be possible since you and Wooyoung were splitting or separating or whatever the correct term was. But seeing their distraught face and hearing them beg you broke your heart, it was obvious that you couldn't break their hearts at that moment. So you relented, you took them to the hospital the next day, allowing them to skip school against your better judgment. You can see how stereotypes about children being spoiled after their parents divorced came to be.

Wooyoung was honestly surprised to see you through his door. He had thought that you would never show your face again but there you stood in front of him, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. But before he could say anything (nothing you wanted to hear anyway), you raised a hand and told him the situation, including the fact that your children knew nothing and that you weren't planning on telling them until the two of you could sit them down together and have a proper discussion when the time is right, so until then, you promised to remain civil as long as he promised to do the same and also not involve his affair partner with their children yet. Wooyoung attempted to protest because he felt like he needed to let you know that he was well on his way to breaking up with her before the incident and he had even told her to not come to the hospital and to not visit him at all. Unfortunately, you didn't want to hear what he had to say and you simply opened the door to let your children in, rushing to their father with tears in their eyes from being so worried.

During the whole visit, you stayed in the far corner, looking at your children interacting with their father for a good hour before you suddenly left the room. You came back with one of Wooyoung's gigantic Prada travel bags, plopping it on his bed before instructing your children that their dad needed to rest. They had attempted to bargain with you, telling you that they weren't going to school anyway so it wouldn't hurt if they were to stay and take care of their father. It astounded you that Wooyoung had the audacity to tell them that they'd have plenty of time with him when he come home. It was one of the rare times your anger took over you but you let slip that Wooyoung would not come home with you. You immediately regretted saying that.

"What do you mean dad's not coming home with us? He's sick, mom," Dayoung scoffed, tightening her grip on Wooyoung's arm angrily. Still, you stood your ground, "I... Am not equipped to care for a sick man. He hurt his back again after three weeks of me taking care of him so obviously someone else could take care of him," you cleverly took a jab at the bitch he had been with and Wooyoung was well aware of it as seen from the way his face grew red and his eyes started to well up with tears. Unfortunately for you, Woohyun saw this and he immediately climbed up to his dad's bed, frantically wiping his tears, "Daddy don't cry!" he whimpered, and he too started tearing up seeing his dad with tears in his eyes and seeing how much his son loved him, Wooyoung started crying as well, overwhelmed from the way his children cared for him which pushed his guilt into its maximum level because he had finally realized the other people he had hurt with his inexcusable decision.

You were very much aware of why Wooyoung was crying and again, you couldn't help but let your feelings overtook you as you rolled your eyes. Dayoung, seeing you reacting the way you did, took a big offence since she had clearly seen you with Yunho and based off of the wrong conclusion she drew, she took your behaviour as you trying to leave Wooyoung for his own friend. But of course, she couldn't reveal her knowledge just yet.

"Mom, how could you be so cruel?" she spat, "I swear, if something happens to dad because you wouldn't take him in because you're so selfish, I will never forgive you," she declared.

And that was how you ended up spending the next 4 days sleeping on the couch with Wooyoung sleeping in your bed. The man who broke your heart slowly started to break your back in a new way, a way unlike he had done a long time ago. The time when you both were still in love. The time when it was all still good.

"Thank you."

A voice broke you out of your trance and when you looked around, you saw Wooyoung leaning against the bathroom door, looking somewhat bashfully at the floor before his eyes moved to yours from the mirror. Unfortunately for him, you immediately shifted your gaze to the pile of towels you were folding and storing into the cabinet.

"For letting me stay here," he finished, offering you a small smile as a gesture of goodwill as if you were expecting him to thank you. You'd very much like to say that his gesture meant nothing to you and that you no longer felt anything for him. What's more infuriating was the smile he gave you was still the mirror image of the boyish grin that managed to charm you into trying yourself to him, it was the same boyish grin that made your stomach flutter even at that moment, despite him hurting you and betraying you. You hated it. You hated him for making you feel like that and you hated yourself for letting yourself feel like that.

You cleared your throat, willing yourself to hold your emotions at bay despite feeling like breaking down out of sadness and frustration. "Don't thank me, Wooyoung," Wooyoung felt his stomach drop from the way you called his name out and it instinctively made him swallow the lump in his throat, "If you must thank anyone, thank your children. Particularly your daughter whom I'd have to admit is quite the master extortionist and manipulator, I'd wonder more about where she inherited those traits if I'm not more concerned that she has what it takes to be a politician one day," you said, avoiding looking at Wooyoung with absolute determination which hurt him but he had to admit he absolutely deserved. But he didn't want to push his pity party on you so he swallowed his feelings and stepped into the bathroom, "You... I don't think the couch would be a very comfortable place to sleep in and you've been at it for four days so," you cut him off with a scoff, "I can say with absolute confidence that the couch was very uncomfortable for several good night's rest, especially considering the fact that after the torture, I still have to cater to your children and also you." That time you really wanted to drive in the hostility to let him know that you definitely did not let him stay out of the goodness of your heart. "Well you could've joined me in our bed," he sighed, saying the words as if he didn't know what he was saying and the gravity of it all.

But if he was oblivious to his words then the glare you gave him once you turned around conveyed all the feelings you reserved for him. "You know damn well why I couldn't have, Wooyoung," you spat, shoving the towels into the cabinet harshly as you sped up your work so you could get out of the room faster. "We might be fighting and all, (y/n) but if it's costing you your rest and your wellbeing then-" "Fighting? You think we're-" You held yourself from screaming at him and pushed past him to peek outside, wanting to make sure that neither one of your kids were nearby to hear the conversation. Wooyoung took this as you leaving the room to not talk to him so he was surprised when you turned back to push him inside the bathroom, this time with you near the door.

"Get this into your head, Wooyoung, we didn't fight, we didn't have a disagreement, it wasn't a misunderstanding between us, you fucking CHEATED on me with the first doe-eyed slut bitch who was willing to open her legs and break up a family probably because she was just so stupid and deluded enough to think that she could make her own family with you, so no, I couldn't share that bed or other beds or any other surface where one could rest on with you because you have ruined me, Wooyoung, you have ruined our marriage, and you have ruined my inner peace so all you could do now is get the fuck better so I can either kick you out or leave without being manipulated by anyone just because you're physically injured when I'm absolutely dead. You killed me, you killed my soul. You and that whore." you spat before turning and leaving him in the bathroom as quickly as you could so he couldn't stop you. Tears were brimming in his eyes as he let the words you hurled at him pierce his heart but he couldn't even complain. After all, he hurt you a million times worse so he had no excuse for himself.

You rushed to the kitchen, the only place you could think of to cool down and not just because you downed a tall glass of iced water that did nothing for your anguish. To make things worse, as you were still trying to calm yourself, your daughter came strolling in on her phone, being absolutely clueless over your distress.

"Hey Mom, can we order that soup from that place Dad likes for dinner? He seems rather down and y'know... Flimsy lately, I just want him to get his strength back."

Oh, how you wanted to ask her why she cared so much for her dad but she couldn't spare common decency to you. By all means you were not a vindictive person nor were you petty. But God, at that moment you wanted to turn around and ask her, "What about me? What about what I like? What about what I need? What about how I've been broken for months now because your father is a cheating son of a bitch?" Unfortunately, you were not your husband. You were not selfish. You were too good even to those who had betrayed you and then some.

"Mom?" She called, an eyebrow raised along with her face from her phone when she didn't hear you answer her. Sighing, you immediately gather yourself to make your leave quickly, "We can talk about this later, I need to pick up Woohyun from the Academy, his class is ending soon."

Dayoung didn't find that answer acceptable so she pressed, "No way, you'll be gone for a while and if we 'talk' about it later, Dad would have to wait to eat and that would be bad for someone who's sick!" "I really can't talk right now sweetie, I promise I just need to go now," you said, turning around to make your leave only to see Dayoung in your way, glaring at you. "Why are you rushing to go to the Academy?" It was such a confusing question because while the answer is easy and you were sure she even knew but her tone made it seem like she was alluding to another meaning. You opened your mouth to answer but she beat you to it, "Who are you rushing to see, Mom? Is it Uncle Yunho? Are you rushing so you could spend more time with him? Perhaps you're hoping to get more hugs from him or maybe something more?" The accusation dropped on you like a thousand tons and your jaw slacked from surprise, "Mind your tone, young lady. What are you trying to say?" "I saw you and Uncle Yunho hugging in front of our house. Mind telling me what all of that was?"

In your daughter, you saw a glimpse of your husband and it infuriated you. Her defiance, her stubbornness, her instinct to pursue the truth. While all of that might be good in life when applied properly, you couldn't help but be sure that your girl had crossed a line with you.

"I don't need to talk to you about that and you don't need to know more than the fact that it was nothing, it was between me and my friend and your tone is disrespectful so I would suggest you drop this attitude RIGHT NOW," you didn't mean to sound so harsh and you felt bad when Dayoung's bottom lip quivered before she dashed out of the kitchen, going God knows where. A tired sigh escaped your lips, you truly were under a lot of pressure and even though you were stressed, even though you were emotional, you shouldn't have snapped at your daughter like that. You knew you had to make it up to her but at that moment, you really do need to go get Woohyun so you simply grabbed your bag and your keys and left the house.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung jumped slightly when Dayoung came barging into his room, huffy and her face all red. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion seeing her in such a state. "Dayoung, what ha-" "How do you stand her?" she asked, cutting Wooyoung off. "What?" "How can you stand Mom? She's such a bitch," she hissed, wiping the tears off her cheek.

Wooyoung was taken aback at the language Dayoung used to describe you. "Hey, don't talk about your mother like that," Wooyoung scolded, voice firm and he stood up from his bed, "I didn't raise you to use such language on your mom." "But she IS a bitch!" Dayoung screeched, "You don't know what she's been doing behind your back, Dad. God, she's so manipulative, you don't even know!" Wooyoung felt his body vibrate with anger because he couldn't let his own daughter talk about you like that. "You drop this, Jung Dayoung, you drop this right now because you don't know what you're talking about and I'm not willing to listen to you talk smack about your own mother," he warned in a low voice. Usually, when Wooyoung spoke to her like this, Dayoung would drop it and say sorry, wanting to go back to her dad's good graces. But not this time, not when she felt that her father had been wronged by you. "Oh Dad, believe me, I know A LOT of stuff. For example, I know that there is stuff going on between Mom and Uncle Yunho," Dayoung said pointedly.

There was something that was like a tug on his heart hearing your name and Yunho's in a sentence that was put in such a way. But he knew that you were not like that and his daughter shouldn't talk about her own mom like that. "Jung Dayoung, I'm warning you, drop this right now," he sternly said. Despite seeing the seriousness in her dad's eyes, Dayoung pressed on, "You don't think I noticed that there's something going on between you two this past couple of months? The tension is palpable and don't even get me started on Mom sleeping on the couch and saying that it was because you needed the space to heal. WAKE UP DAD, MOM'S CHEATING ON YOU!" she yelled out.

"SHE COULDN'T BE CHEATING ON ME BECAUSE I WAS THE ONE WHO CHEATED ON HER!" Wooyoung yelled louder, causing Dayoung to jump back in shock not just because of his volume but also because of the information Wooyoung just revealed. The moment the words left Wooyoung's mouth, it felt like cold water was splashed on him. Harshly. But he couldn't take it back, he couldn't go back from this.

"I... Cheated on your mother... And then she found out. She told me she found out that day I got hurt because..." Wooyoung paused, suddenly deciding that he shouldn't tell Dayoung that he was with his side piece when you found out. Not that it helped because Wooyoung's sudden reluctance to finish his sentence was a dead giveaway. "I was the asshole in this situation and (y/n)- your mother has been sleeping on the couch because she couldn't bear sharing a bed with me but you and Woohyun had asked me to stay so she held it in. She did what she was asked and she did it despite her own personal apprehension. She loves you so much that she'd rather suffer silently rather than disappointing you and Woohyun." The more Wooyoung spoke of your action and about your altruism, the more he realized how much he fucked up by cheating on you. He had gotten everything he wanted from you, heck you put it on a silver, golden, platinum platter stacked over one another and when it got hard for you, when you needed him the most, he took your kindness and love for granted and pursued the suddenly missing 5% from you. He hated himself. And by the look Dayoung gave, it seem like he isn't the only one.

For the first time ever, Dayoung looked at her father with such hurt and disappointment that even Wooyoung could taste the hatred on his tongue.

"So your mother doesn't deserve to be called a bitch because she is far from one. She's a saint for putting you, me, and Woohyun over her own self so you will show her the respect she deserves. The respect we all owe her," he stated firmly but his voice shook around the part about you deserving respect. Wooyoung was sure that no one could think of him lower than he already thought of himself. Though people could easily conduct a poll.

With chest heaving, Dayoung took a step back, then another, then another until she reached the door and her hand reached for the handle, "Don't talk to me like that, I am nothing like you in this equation." As if she couldn't bear another second with her father, Dayoung left the room the same way she came in, by slamming the door. Wooyoung had braced himself to receive backlash but to hear his own daughter harshly stating how she was not like her father truly hurt him. But it was all deserved and he couldn't even complain.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It would appear that the day had been kinder to you than expected because you had planned on postponing coming home late by allowing Woohyun to take his time packing his stuff or taking him out to dinner and maybe get some dinner for Wooyoung and Dayoung at another place. Maybe another city. But as it appears, Woohyun's class ran longer than expected since they had a special guest teacher who came in from another country. Hearing this, you were about to leave the premises to wait in your car or go to a convenience store when you heard Seonghwa, one of Wooyoung's former dance crew mates turned business partner and teacher of the academy, called you up.

"Hey (y/n), how's it going?" He asked, beaming with happiness. Pissed that your friend cheated on me with one of your staff, you thought, "Good, Seonghwa. How are you? How's dating life?" you teased which made him roll his eyes, "Oh shut up, I should have settled down in my late 20s like you told me to. The girls who approach me only approach me because they have daddy issues and I don't know what to do with that information." Still better than my marriage I'd guess, you snarkily added in your head. "I was just about to step out for a bit until Woohyun finished his class, so..." You trailed off, trying to give him the hint that you were trying to get away but it simply went over his head. "Actually, I have some things for Wooyoung to look over, I know he's supposed to be back soon but these are just a couple of plans, budget details, and meeting minutes he can look over to catch up. I was planning to give it myself later tonight but since you're here, would it be okay for me to ask you to give them to him?" he smiled a bit too gleefully for your taste because you were in such a bad state. But you couldn't fault his nonchalance as he was not aware of the situation happening at home. So you nodded at Seonghwa, returning his smile though it wasn't half as genuine as his, "Sure, you can give it to me." "Great, thanks! Wait here, I'll go to the office and get them for you!" Seonghwa then jogged in the direction of the joint office in the back, leaving you at the waiting area where the receptionist is and also other students with their friends and some younger ones with their parents.

"Mrs. Jung?"

That voice froze you not just because you were surprised, but also because that voice was the one voice you didn't want to hear calling for you.

"Mrs. Jung!" Harin called before she jogged over to stand next to you, "Hello, it's nice seeing you again!" she smiled cheerfully which made you want to slap her face as hard as you could but you kept your composure. Even if the inner side of your cheek took the brunt to the point of nearly bleeding. You mustered all of the patience in your body to hum in acknowledgment and gave her the most neutral, polite smile you could give. "A-are you here alone? What are you doing at the Academy?" she asked. What bitch, you were hoping that Wooyoung's here too? And this is his academy that his kids have been part of since before you came here two years ago, I'm welcomed here unlike you in my fucking marriage. "Woohyun," you simply said before you averted your gaze, purposefully turning around in hopes that she'll get the hint and leave you before you maul her like a rabid cat. "I like Woohyun, he's so nice to me," Harin chuckled a bit too innocently for your liking due to the insinuation and the situation, "He always calls me pretty and compliments me. Of course, he's just a generally nice kid because even the other dancers like him. And of course, they also like Dayoung who's just so opinionated and strong and bright. They truly are the mirror image of their dad."

That was fucking it.

"Really!?" you snapped at her with a voice so sharp it should've turned her into ceviche. Harin jumped slightly from the sharpness of your tone as she looked at you in surprise, taking in how you were squinting your eyes at her in disbelief. "I-I'm sorry, wha-" you cut her stupid mouth off, not even wanting to hear her feigning confusion as the why you would react that way considering the fact that she had just acted like she knew your kids enough on top of having the nerve to talk all intimate-like about your husband. "You think you can talk to me that way about MY kids after everything?" "w-w- what did I say? I-I was just saying that I adore them," Harin tried to defend herself but your anger had made it seem like you doubled in size and you were towering over her. "And who do you think you are to adore my children?" it was obvious that you were no longer holding back your anger and while a part of you dreaded this, another felt glad that you were finally able to stand up for yourself. "I know everything, you slut," you sneered, taking a step closer to get a better look at the way her face fell, "I know you've been screwing my husband behind my back. He confirmed it to me."

By then you had caught the attention of the people around and you were sure that they had heard you but you didn't care. You stood over her, watching as she stuttered, looking as stupid as a fish out of water. "What? Nothing to say now? Nothing about my kids being the mirror image of the man you slept with multiple times and even shamelessly claimed to be your husband at the hospital?" you taunted, "You might have skipped this lesson in whore school, but when you see the wife of the man you're screwing, you blush, avert your eyes, and you scurry away like a roach, got it?" maybe you took it a step too far by humiliating her like that but you couldn't help the satisfied look on your face when she stared at you with reddened cheeks and a very displeased look on her face. The crowd gathering around you didn't make things any better for her because they were starting to whisper among themselves and you recognized some of them as the affluent stay-at-home moms whose husbands fall under the stereotypical cheating trope. So hearing you say all of that, they immediately started to look at Harin with disgust, and a small part of you, the evil part that was created due to hurt, took that as a win.

"Mommy?"

You turned around to see Woohyun standing not too far away from you with Seonghwa standing next to him, looking more surprised than your son who just looked concerned. Before you could react, Woohyun rushed to stand in front of you, glaring at Harin who looked at him with guilt. If you didn't know any better, you would've guessed that she was finally facing another innocent person who got affected by her selfishness. But you weren't as willing to consider her to have any semblance of humanity in her.

"Mommy, can we go home now?" Woohyun asked without looking at you but still keeping his glare on Harin. It was obvious to you that he was trying to distract you, trying to get you out of the uncomfortable situation which made you wonder about how much he knew or even understand. But you didn't want to hash it out in such a public place with him so you nodded and took his hand, automatically causing his attention to shift to you. "Yeah, of course, we can go home now sweetie. Have you gotten all of your things?" you asked in a tone so sweet that it caused Harin's spine to tingle from the palpable difference. It didn't help that once Woohyun turned away, he too, sported an innocent smile, nodding along and showing you his things that he had packed.

Turning around with Woohyun in tow, you shot Harin one last glare before stepping to face Seonghwa with a polite smile, "Is that the file you want to give my son of a bitch husband?" Seonghwa felt his knees buckle from fear but he tried his best to stabilize himself and smile at you, "Y-yeah, Wooyo-" The sudden shift to anger on your face when you heard your husband's name almost made Seonghwa shit his pants but he immediately corrected himself, "I-I mean, t-that son of a-a bitch, needs to review this and get back to me a-at, uh... YOUR earliest convenience?" your curtly nodded and offered him a polite smile whilst covering Woohyun's ears, "Thank you Seonghwa, and I'm sorry to have done this confrontation so publicly. It was not ideal but I was pushed to engage and since it's both out in the open and both it and my husband are hypocritical cowards who will not bring this up themselves, can I trust you to report this case to HR and see to it both of them get disciplinary action because it does break the inappropriate relationship rule and not to mention this could open you up to lawsuits should the bitch expand her reach and screw all of you as well? Thank you." Seonghwa immediately nodded his head and he was about to say something to comfort you but you had started your journey out of the academy, leaving Harin in the middle of the room, being pointed and whispered at by the people around, moms, and random people like other dancers and staff. Some had even fished out their phones and began to type away and Harin could only imagine that it was about her.

Humiliated, Harin was about to run away when a figure stepped out from the crowd and blocked her. She looked up to see Yunho staring at her with a less-than-pleased look on his face which terrified her because he was always the mood-maker.

"I think it would be best if you come with us to HR," he said in a low voice, briefly looking at Seonghwa who was immediately on his phone, looking distressed and frantic as he tried to get HR to immediately gather in the meeting room along with the other people who might be related.

Defeated, Harin hung her head and muttered under her breath, "That fucking bitch," she exhaled shakily which was easily heard by Yunho who clenched his jaw and with a tightly closed fist, hit the wall next to him hard enough that a loud BOOM echoed, surprising the people around who immediately dispersed whilst simultaneously causing Harin to cower.

"Mind your language because as of the moment (y/n) told Seonghwa hyung to report you to HR, anything and everything you said is a testament to your character and action and from what I'm seeing, you should not be calling (y/n) a bitch," he said through gritted teeth, forcing Harin to drop her face in absolute shame and simply followed when Yunho gestured for her to walk down the hallway (in shame).

"If I were you, I'd fire up my LinkedIn again because if you think Wooyoung would fight for you to stay, you'd end up wasting your time, his time, and frankly, everyone's time."

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@atinyreads @strawberry-yeo @soobiverse @vixensss @smally97 @maidens-world @yunhoswrldddd @imcoenffl @nescaffei @miaatiny @showmehoseok @tmingi @wlv-asteria @sunwoosbaby @hyukssunflower @remi-young

@staytiny816 @dearinsaniiity @scentednerdenemy @melanchobtch

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17

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suzukiblu · 3 months ago

Text

Another round of "obligatory sugar baby Kon" behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Um,” Kon says, his teeth just barely digging into his lower lip again as his eyes flick down and to the side–down towards Tim’s hand where it’s cupping his neck, even though he obviously can’t see that clearly from this angle. Though he can feel it, obviously. In multiple ways, via both standard-issue senses and specialized telekinesis.

Tim is maybe gonna burn alive and lose his mind and really, really wants to know if Kon will let his TTK down for him, whether he can give him a hickey or not.

He wonders–would it feel different to Kon, if someone kissed him without his TTK in the way? Would he like it better, or would he feel too vulnerable or awkward, or would it be too hard to concentrate on the actual kiss while holding his TTK in check, or–

“Um,” Kon starts again, and then just sort of trails off and licks his lips. He’s still looking down towards Tim’s hand, his line of sight just barely visible under his half-lidded eyes and the gold liner framing his eyes and the glitter powder said liner’s just barely shed into his lashes. Tim wants to smear it with his thumb and see what it looks like, and brush his fingertips along Kon’s temple and into his hair and along his buzzed scalp and his half-slicked-back hair, because Kon’s been wearing his hair a little differently for their dates than the way he usually wears it, and specifically Kon’s been wearing it the same “differently” that Tim styled it for him at the mall.

Tim was, like, at least trying not to obsess about that, but it’s very hard not to obsess about that, because maybe Kon’s doing it for practical “staying under the radar” reasons or because he decided he liked how it looked; maybe he’s doing it because he’s testing it out for being more convenient for keeping his hair out of his eyes in a fight.

But maybe he’s doing it because he thinks Tim likes his hair this way.

Tim really cannot pencil in the processing time for all the stuff he has to process right now. Like, there’s just no room in the schedule. Maybe next month.

“You, uh, know I wasn’t actually thinking about streets and buildings when I said we could have some fun with the camera, right?” Kon asks just a little bit quietly, the corner of his mouth just barely ticking up and his eyes going soft and shy as he tilts his head to the side–to the side away from Tim’s hand, specifically, so the whole line of his neck’s all stretched out and exposed and . . . there. Just–there. Very, very there. “There”, in this context, meaning “under Tim’s hand”.

And flicks his eyes to Tim’s face at the same time, like he wants to see if he’ll like that.

. . . maybe next year he can pencil in that processing time, Tim corrects himself somewhere in the middle of the five-alarm apocalypse currently occurring in his head. Like. Just . . . somewhere in there, maybe.

Ngk. Just–ngk.

“I need to maybe not, or I’m not gonna be able to be normal about taking you to dinner,” he admits. Kon laughs again, just a little, and his face flushes again too, and he’s just so damn cute and Tim really does not understand how many inappropriate thoughts his brain is trying to think right now. It’s just–it’s so many. Usually he’s thinking too much by default, yeah, and definitely he is thinking too much and in way too many layers, but literally every single one of those layers is functioning more like, like, in the sense of a “dance of the seven veils” kind of “layering”.

“I mean . . . you don’t have to be,” Kon says, still with just the slightest trace of shyness in both his expression and his tone. And then his expression–shifts, kind of, and turns flirty and . . . and a little bit past flirty as his mouth cocks into an inviting smirk, which Tim is really, really not capable of handling right now or possibly ever, so before Kon does his usual braggy overkill horndog routine he needs to just change the subject and– “You got me all this nice stuff to wear for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna see a little more of what’s under it?”

Tim–pauses.

That’s . . . definitely Kon-levels of “total lack of subtlety”, yeah, but the phrasing is . . .

What’s that phrasing, exactly?

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #implied past grooming #implied past abuse

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farceargon · 1 year ago

Text

@swan-swanno

Look at this thang

Boat-billed Heron (Cochlearius

cochlearius) in Costa Rica

by Stephen Powell.

#reblog #birds #holy GOD #ITS SO #there is nothing else like it and no words to describe it #actually thats a lie. prev tags said it right #in fact i thought it was the actual correct tag and searched it up to make sure it WASNT ai #its not its just. so. thing

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suhkusa · 3 months ago

Text

Your vision focuses and unfocuses on a random poster on the wall as you try to come back to your senses.

Part of you feels weird being alone and drunk. One or the other is fine, but combined just made you feel off.

You would lay down to try and sleep this feeling away, but a wave of nausea hits you everytime. So you sat with a hunched back, letting the seconds pass.

You’re forced out of your daze as the door creaks open.

“Keiji— oh,” you can feel your figure relax with disappointment, “you,”

Your eyes drift back to their original place as the man replies, “Oh, you,” Suna mocks.

Suna makes his way to the empty spot on the bed by you, huffing as he flops down onto his back

“Ew, can’t you go somewhere else?” your face scrunches up with disdain as you scoot closer to the pillows, putting a gap between the two of you.

“No, because people are fucking in them, Y/N. Unless you want to go and join them,” his tone has a tinge of sarcasm.

“What?” you laugh as you turn your head to peer down at him, “Are you trying to get at me right now?”

“Hell no,” his reply comes out slower than usual, but you don’t give it a second thought. “Don’t start, please,”

“Don’t start what, Rin?” his first name slips out but you don’t care to correct yourself.

At your words, Suna shoots up into a sitting position, eyes meeting yours. “Don’t fucking call me that,”

“You literally call me Y/N, don’t be a baby,” you roll your eyes before beginning to taunt him, “what are you going to do if I keep calling you Rin? Huh, Rin?”

“Maybe kill you,” his tone is pure sarcasm as the two of you continue to escalate the argument.

“Aw,” you fake blush, the alcohol pushes you to keep speaking, “Why don’t you kiss me after to make it better?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I fucking would, you asshole!”

Neither of you realize how in-each-other’s-faces you were until it happens.

His hands, which were weirdly soft, come to cup at your cheeks and pull you into a kiss. It’s warm, and messy, and tastes strongly of alcohol.

And the worst part is that you have the full strength to pull away, and you don’t. In fact, you can feel your body melting into his.

Knock, knock.

“Y/N?”

The two of you instantly jump to opposite ends, you already getting on your feet. You're both wide-eyed but in silence.

It’s Keiji when the door opens, his eyes widened as he looks at the two of you. His eyes then lock onto you.

“What happened?”

“Just arguing with this dick again,” you see from the corner of your eyes as Suna rolls his eyes.

“Oh, well are you ready?”

The speed in which you walk towards Keiji and out the door is an answer for itself.

Maybe you should take Suna up on his offer of killing you.

BLAH BLAH BLAH — YOU

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

y/n genuinely wasn't expecting him to

suna wasn't expecting himself to either

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smau #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna smau #suna rintaro smau #suna rintarou x reader #raeworks

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roosterr · 1 year ago

Text

white flag ✹ ch 5

note: special thanks to @panicflower for inspiring me with this chapter! i was honestly a lil stuck but their suggestion helped me come up with a direction( ˘ ³˘) hope everyone enjoys!

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 3.4k

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

summary: simon wants to make it up to you, but he has no idea where to begin. when you start getting close to someone else, he knows he has to fix things before it's too late.

warnings: still ghost's pov, mentions of injury, jealousy reader gives ghost the cold shoulder this time, ghost is just a lil bit pathetic and very emotionally constipated

ao3

【prev】 || 【next】

simon found you in the infirmary.

he knew you hated hospitals; you tried to hide how they made your skin crawl, but he would always notice the way you'd fidget uncomfortably whenever you needed patching up after a mission. even though you more than likely didn't want to see him, his selfish heart still held out hope that he could bring you some comfort.

you're sitting on the edge of a bed, checking the bandage around your forearm when he pushes through the doors. he subtly brushes the dirt from his clothes with his free hand as he takes a step forward, the other holding the hastily collected gift behind his back. but as he cautiously approaches, his breath catches in his throat when he notices the third presence taking up the space next to you.

another sergeant, from the unit the one-four-one is working with for their current assignment. his face is familiar, but simon’s never bothered to learn his name. up until this moment, he was completely irrelevant; but now this nameless bastard was sitting beside you in the space that should he his, and he’s never wanted to punch an ally more than he does right now.

he stops in front of you, and when you lift your head to meet his eyes the pure exhaustion there sends a twinge of pain through his heart. when your friend looks up as well, he feels a surge of annoyance that he’s even here – simon came in with the intention of explaining himself to you, but with someone else lingering around you, he’s afraid he won’t be able to gather the courage.

the humiliation of giving you the makeshift gift he's still got hidden behind his back in front of this stranger would be far too much.

"we need to talk." his voice is harder than he would like, but the other set of eyes on him puts him on edge. he goes to take a small step closer to you, but he freezes when you hold up your uninjured hand to stop him.

"don't," you reply, tearing your red-rimmed eyes away from him as you push yourself to stand up. your shoulders sag and you cradle your bandaged arm close to your abdomen. "i'm tired, ghost."

he grimaces under his mask, watching helplessly as you take your jacket from the waiting hands of your companion – who stands up too, placing his hand on your shoulder with a small smile directed at you that makes simon want to strangle him.

then the idiot turns to him, and regards him with a similar polite smile. "i'm sure it can wait 'till tomorrow, sir." he says, gesturing for you to move with him as he takes a step around simon.

he doesn't bother to acknowledge the sergeant though, keeping his gaze focused solely on you.

"i know, i just–" he begins, raising his free arm to block your path – and perhaps separate you from the outsider – but the way you flinch away from him ever so slightly has his heart breaking all over again. "what i said was uncalled for."

you sigh deeply and drop your gaze to the floor. "then why did you say it?" your frustration is obvious, but he can't come up with a response in time. you click your tongue, before continuing, "i don't wanna do this right now."

"c'mon, man," the spare interjects, pushing his arm down and out of your way. simon finally meets his eyes then, glaring at him with such intensity from behind the balaclava he can see how thickly he swallows. "uh– sir." he corrects, quickly retracting his hand from simon's arm and retreating his gaze to you.

simon resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead turning them back to you as well. "sting." he mumbles, a weak plea for you to listen, but you offer no reaction.

your eyes dart to him and away again as you brush past him with a stone cold expression on your face. he would've believed it, had it not been for the tremble in your lower lip that gave away what you really felt.

for a moment he says frozen in place, watching your back as you exit the infirmary with your irritating companion. he didn't know what to do, now you were the one running away from him. is this how you always felt around him?

before the infirmary door can swing shut he follows you both out into the hallway, keeping pace with you but not daring to walk beside you. the minimal distance between you and the sergeant has his blood boiling, but he restrains his annoyance for your sake. he hears you sigh as his heavy footsteps fall behind your own, but you refuse to give him any more of your attention.

it's pathetic, he thinks to himself, the way he's following you around like a lost puppy, but he can't bring himself to be ashamed. he wants your attention, and he'll do anything to get it.

when you get out into the cold night air, instead of heading towards the main gate like he expected you to, you take a right after the sergeant, towards the car park. his gets a heavy feeling in his stomach, but he follows anyway. your car was still parked outside his house, unmoved since you'd left.

he still follows as you make your way towards one of the few cars left in the space. you say something to the sergeant, too low for simon to hear, and he nods before going ahead to his car.

"ghost," your tone is unimpressed as you turn around to him, arms crossed over your chest. "what are you doing?"

he blinks. "we're goin' the same way." he mutters, his hand squeezing the fist wrapped tightly around his gift that was still hidden behind his back.

"anderson's giving me a lift." you reply flatly.

"oh." his stomach sinks unbearably. he had naively hoped that you'd walk with him, and he'd finally get the chance to talk to you. "...right."

"...right."

you take a step back, going to walk away again, but before you can move he calls out to you. "sting."

you stop and look at him, brows raised expectantly.

in one of his gloved hands, he holds out a handful of delicate white flowers to you. you look at them, and then back up to him with a surprised blink.

"...are those from the flowerbeds out front?" you ask, fixing him with a sceptical expression. he shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other under your scrutiny.

"yeah." he murmurs, "you said you liked 'em."

he hoped you wouldn't comment on the fact that you'd said that during your first week on the taskforce. a moment of tension passes before you gently take the flowers from his hand.

"i did." you say, brushing your fingers over the slightly squashed petals. simon breaths a silent sigh of relief that you didn't outright reject his gesture.

you don't say anything more, leaving the two of you in another uncomfortable pause, but once again, he can't think of anything to say quickly enough. so with another low sigh, you turn on your heel and close the short distance between you and anderson's car.

his arm twitches, a restrained attempt to reach out for you, to ask you to stay, but the door slams shut without you sparing another glance in his direction.

simon can only watch as the taillights disappear into the night, taking you along with them and out of his reach, and leaving him alone in the desolate car park.

"fuuuuck." he growls, tightly pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. why would you want to get into the car of someone you've only known for a few days? even if you were angry with him, you couldn't trust anderson more than your own lieutenant. his hands curl into fists at his sides at the thought that you might actually prefer that prick over him.

with nothing left to do, he begins the lonely walk home. it always manages to catch him off guard, how much colder the world seemed to be when you weren't around.

by the time he’s inside and locked the door behind him, the lights are all off and the door to your room is firmly shut. he considers knocking, but out of fear of disturbing you he decides against it – he’d bothered you enough for one day.

as he lays in bed and retreats into his usual fantasy of you, like he’s done countless times before, there's something different plaguing his mind. your smile, something usually so comforting to him, is directed to someone else.

a striking pain blooms in his chest, spreading to his limbs and his head until his whole body aches with the feeling of you, smiling warmly and holding the hand of someone other than him; he focuses his mind, concentrating on the faceless silhouette until the shadows morph into features he recognises.

anderson.

✹✹✹

he doesn't see you the next morning. you're gone by the time he wakes up, along with your car. it's surprising that he didn't hear you leave; usually he wakes at smallest of sounds, but you seemed to have the unique ability to sneak up on him.

going through his morning routine felt more like a chore than it ever had before, especially the trek back to base with only the silence of the early morning to keep him company. not even the birds sing for him today.

when he finally trudges into the rec room almost forty minutes after leaving home, he finds gaz and soap sitting on the old sofas, playing some card game on the coffee table. he considers turning back around and hiding in his office all day, but he’s spotted before he can escape.

"rise 'n shine, l.t." soap calls, "c'mon, i'll deal ya in."

with a poorly disguised roll of his eyes, he drags his feet over to where they're sitting and drops his weight onto the armchair. he doesn't even know what game they're playing when he's given a hand, but his mind is elsewhere anyway.

"you alright, mate?" gaz's question snaps him out of his daze, but he doesn't get to reply before the door is thrown open and a fourth presence enters the room.

"morning!" anderson's overly enthusiastic voice bounces off the walls of the rec room. simon's head throbs. "anyone seen stingray?" he approaches them as he asks, crossing the distance with a gait that just feels annoying.

gaz and soap look up from their cards at his question, sharing a quick look between them that goes completely over anderson's head.

"they're on inventory, probably in the storeroom." gaz responds, offering him a polite, downturned smile, before looking back and meeting ghost's deadpan gaze.

at least he wasn't the only one who hated anderson's guts.

"perfect, thanks mate!" anderson grins, about to rush back out the way he came, but ghost speaks up before he can get too far.

"not so fast, sergeant." he growls, dropping his cards onto the coffee table and standing up to his full height. he can see soap and gaz share another look out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze stays locked onto anderson like a predator on its prey.

anderson pauses, slowly turning on his heel to face the lieutenant again as he stalks forward. ghost feels a sense of satisfaction at the way he has to crane his neck upwards to look him in the eye, his massive frame towering over the sergeant in an almost comical way.

"yes, sir?" anderson’s voice is strained as he responds, his shoulders noticeably tighter than a moment ago.

"where's your report from yesterday?" ghost leans just slightly forward, crowding his personal space. he sees anderson's gaze flicker to the others behind him, but he knows they're not about to offer their help.

"uh, i filed it first thing this morning," he answers, rocking backwards on his heels. "why?"

ghost sneers under his mask. "well, our captain needs a copy too."

"but my commander's already left, i can't get it back…" anderson’s brows pull together, confusion evident in his words.

"better get writin' then, hadn't you?" ghost doesn't even try to hide the smugness in his voice this time, take more pleasure in ruining anderson's day than he probably should.

"...yes sir." anderson nods, his gaze dropping to the floor as ghost moves past him. he makes sure to nudge his shoulder as he goes, catching anderson off guard and causing him to stumble slightly.

the three sergeants watch as he disappears through the door, each breathing a sigh of relief once they're sure he's gone. ghost's temper was tough to be on the receiving end of, and his bad mood always seemed to rub off on those around him.

"wow..." anderson grumbles, a bitter look on his face as he approaches the others again. "who pissed in his cornflakes?"

gaz and soap do their best not to acknowledge him, instead going back to their card game as if he wasn't there. unfortunately, anderson either doesn't pick up on it, or he just doesn't care, because he hangs around despite being blatantly ignored.

"reckon he's still in the doghouse with sting?" gaz asks, though the answer is obvious. anderson sits down beside him, much to gaz's chagrin, but he takes no notice of his questioning gaze.

"och, no doubt about that." soap huffs.

"so they're together?" anderson asks, tilting his head slightly with a frown. "i was gonna make a move, but i know they live together, so…"

gaz meets his eyes with a frown of his own. "well…" he looks at soap from the corner of his eye, who has a similar deer-in-headlights expression. "...not necessarily,"

"it's… complicated." soap adds, trying to hide the panic on his face with a begrudging smile that ends up more like a grimace.

"oh, so stingray's available, is what i'm hearing." he punctuated his words with an irritating wiggle of his eyebrows.

gaz and soap share another wide-eyed look.

"i don't know if–"

"now hold on–"

anderson pays their protests no mind however, hurrying to the door with a call of, "sorry lads, cant hang about!" as he leaves.

as soon as the door swings shut behind him, soap lets out a frustrated groan. "good goin' mate…" he grumbles, turning to gaz with a raised brow.

"...don't tell ghost," gaz mutters with a regretful expression decorating his face.

✹✹✹

true to gaz's word, when simon slips through the door to the storeroom you're there, clipboard in hand and quietly going through the stock.

you haven't noticed him yet, so he takes a moment to simply observe you as you work. although in reality it's only been a few days, it could've been weeks since he last saw you and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. time moved so slow while you were gone it felt like it was dragging specifically to punish him.

it's only as he stands there watching you that he realises he has no idea what he's actually going to say to you, but it was too late to back out now; he was here, and he wasn't sure when he'd next get a moment alone with you, he had to try.

"sting–"

"shit!"

you jump, your clipboard slipping from your hands and clattering to the floor. your hand presses over your heart as you whip around to face him.

"don't fucking do that, you scared the shit out of me." you shoot him a glare and reach down to pick up your clipboard while simon can only stand there like an idiot, his mind desperately racing to come up with something to say.

"i, uh– just wanted to talk." he mutters, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. you sigh lightly and look down to the documents you'd been writing.

"okay, go on then." you gesture for him to speak, and turn back around to the shelves to carry on with your duties.

"well– i.. i shouldn't've said what i said," he begins, following after you as you move along the shelves and continue to write. the way you disregard his presence throws him off – he was so used to having your undivided attention it was strange to lose it.

"we've established that."

"and i regret it," he continues, getting closer again, but you still don't look at him. his voice is significantly weaker than when he began, your ice cold demeanour effecting what little confidence had had going into this. "i just… i don't know what to do."

at that, you lower your clipboard and gaze pointedly into the space in front of you, lips pursed with obvious anger. when you finally face him, the incredulous look on your face has him regretting having said anything, despite not understanding where your fury came from.

"you don't know what to do?" you laugh, but it's dry and humourless. "that's priceless, lieutenant, honestly."

"why? just–"

he's interrupted for the second time that morning by the door opening to reveal anderson, that infuriating grin plastered onto his face.

"you in here, sting?" he calls, eyes scanning the room before landing on the two of you near the back wall. "oh. lieutenant ghost…" the grin falls from his face and the way he stands up a little straighter doesn’t go unnoticed.

simon quietly groans to himself, pouring every ounce of malice he has into the way he glowers at the sergeant. he was so tempted to punch this prick it took an unbelievable amount of restraint not to.

"thought i told you to write that report." he seethes, turning his body to face anderson while simultaneously putting himself between you and him.

"well, i'm getting to it, but–"

"no buts, sergeant." he interrupts, voice dangerously low. "i gave you an order; do it."

"sir, i really don't think it's necess–"

"maybe you'd like to tell captain price why he can't sign off on the debrief?" his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it, and he's sure his fingernails would've drawn blood had he not been wearing gloves.

"...no, sir." anderson mutters, his demeanour something akin to a scolded child.

"then you'd better fuck off, hadn't you?" ghost spits, gesturing sharply with one hand towards the door.

"y-yes sir…" anderson stutters, backing out of the doorway with a quick, concerned look to you over ghost's shoulder before he disappears around the corner.

now that it's just the two of you, simon turns back to you with a much softer look in his eyes, only to be met with a glare from you that rivals one of his own.

"don't be such a dickhead." you hiss, turning sharply away from him again and going back to writing on your clipboard.

simon scoffs. "you're seriously gonna defend that bellend?" he asks, throwing his hands out to the sides and leaning to catch your eye again.

"you don't even know him." you turn more away from him to avoid his searching gaze, your writing getting steadily more aggressive the more he tries to capture your attention.

"i know enough to know that he's–"

"just stop!" you shout, finally turning to face him with a venomous glare. the tension between you is palpable, it makes his skin crawl, but he doesn't dare move. "i don't wanna hear it! if all you're gonna do is bitch about my friends, then you can leave."

simon's breath falters when you turn your back on him again, dragging a heavy hand over your face as you do. "wait– that's not–"

"just piss off, ghost!" you cry, "please!"

your plea rings through the empty room, echoing in simon's ribcage and embedding itself like a thorn in his heart. he can't see your face, for which he's actually grateful; if he saw you cry again he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

he waits in silence for you to say something, anything more, but you refuse to look at him, shoulders hunched and clipboard held so tightly it was at risk of snapping.

without another word, he drags his feet over to the door, looking back over his shoulder to you as he pauses in the threshold. you’re still standing exactly where he left you, back turned and completely unmoving save for the uneven rise and fall of your shoulders.

"i'll… see you at home, yeah?" he mutters, his small tone not at all befitting of a soldier as imposing as him.

you don't respond.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @ghostslittlegf , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona ,

@alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness , @madsothree , @geisterfvhrer , @lazyninjaphilosopher , @koi-feish , @chaoticgoblindev , @clear-your-mind-and-dream , @lesterous , @glitterypirateduck , @slu77ym4nw415ts , @stateofcatatonia , @rivalriotrenegade , @yoichiislovie , @nirvanaaaonly , @batmanunicorns523 , @sapientiia , @thesecretwriter , @susanmukami , @stars-andfreckles , @spya1 , @tunaa-luvchrm

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

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