#but maybe now that unfortunately means they can leave their love for each other in the past :(((((( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gay-dorito-dust · 18 days

Note

Hiiii!! I love your writing for the batboys!

So my request is Jason and Dick with a s/o and their like cuddling exchanging kisses relaxing and one of their brothers get them for a mission and see their brother (Jason/Dick) with their s/o for the first time. (Maybe the other batboy didn't know Jason/Dick had a girlfriend)

Okieee! Have a great day!

Dick

Cuddled himself into your side, burying his head into your neck, on the verge of falling asleep but not quite there yet as he hummed whenever you ran your fingers through his hair.

‘You like it when I run my fingers through your hair, you might as well be purring.’ You told him while giggling as he tightened his grip on your waist when he felt you shift slightly beneath him. ‘You’d like that wouldn’t you.’ Dick said sluggishly as he pushed his head further into your hand, impatient as he waited for you to continue running your fingers through his hair whenever you stopped briefly.

‘I would but you already act more than enough like a puppy regardless. I guess what they say about dogs and owners looking alike is more true in your case but instead of looks it’s personality.’ You said as you gently tugged his hair, causing him to groan as he then retaliated by deliberately kissing under your jaw and down your neck slowly as he could.

‘You think you’re funny don’t you?’ Dick asks against your neck.

‘I think I’m hilarious when you’re concerned dickbird.’ You gasped when you felt him nibble on your skin, ‘but you love me for it really.’ You added as he raised his head to look at you with a cute little pout across his tired face. You hated how exhausted he looked and so you had decided earlier that day that he was scheduled for some much needed rest, even going so far as to drag him to bed when he was too stubborn to leave a case for a measly five minutes just to eat food.

‘I do, love you I mean.’ Dick said softly as he raised his head to kiss your lips as you hummed happily against him, just as the door to his room swung open.

‘Alright dickhead, time to-‘ Jason looked up to see that he had clearly instructed something and instead of leaving he decided to stand in the doorway awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

‘I didn’t know you had company in here.’ Jason then said.

‘What do you think I normally do?’ Dick asked his younger brother as he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Piss us about usually.’ Jason replied almost casually that you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sibling spat. ‘Now I’m sorry to cut your lovers embrace short but we need to go, preferably now because I don’t know how much longer Tim and Damian can remain together in awkward silence.’ Dick sighed and kissed your cheek as he begun to pull himself away from you begrudgingly.

‘Sorry peanut, I promise you I’ll cuddle you as soon as I get home.’ Dick said when he saw you pout, hand tugging at his shirt which only made him want to say fuck it and stay in your arms, but he knew he couldn’t leave Jason alone to deal with Damian and Tim the entire night without them unironically pissing the other off somehow. ‘For now I’ve got some siblings to keep away from killing each other, so keep the bed warm for me yeah?.’ He adds as he cups your face and kisses you on the lips, nose and forehead.

‘It’ll be cosy and warm when you come home, that and probably smelling of dog too.’ You said as you kissed the space between his brows, cussing dick to smile and relax beneath your lips, he didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t but he knew that when he did come back it’ll be all the more worth while.

‘That’s fine by me, sweetheart.’ Dick replied, completely ignoring Jason who was wondering how the fuck you managed to deal with his brother for as long as you have.

Jason had you cosied up to his side as he continued to read a book he has been meaning to catch up on for a long while but couldn’t in due to the random spikes in crime as of late.

Which unfortunately meant that quality time between yourself and Jason was short lived. So when you were finally able to have Jason by your side for longer then an a few brief moments, you were bound to leap at the opportunity to cling onto him and smother him in kisses, much like you were doing now across his jawline and down his neck.

‘Miss me that much chipmunk?’ Jason asked with a smile as he paused his reading to rear his head back, allowing you further access to his neck, smiling to himself as he felt your lips caress his skin pleasantly. Jason was very much in need for affection after going without it for far longer then he might’ve liked, especially when most days it seemed as though your affection was all that helped Jason in getting through the day; and being deprived of such was a different kind of torture for Jason when he had finally gotten accustomed to it since the start of your relationship.

‘I did,’ you admitted, kissing his pulse on his neck before pulling away to smile up at him, ‘but with how tightly your holding my waist, I’d say you’ve missed me just as much jaybird.’ You added cheekily as you gestured down to the hand that was gripping your waist almost protectively with a playful glint in your eyes.

Jason scoffed as he then tugged you closer to him, making sure to rest his forehead against your own as he spoke, ‘I did miss you chipmunk, I’m not ashamed to admit it because most days it seemed as though you were the only thing keeping me going most of the time.’ He smiles sweetly at you as he kissed your forehead, you closed your eyes and leant into his touch happily, finding bliss at long last.

Only for the door to Jason’s room to burst open. ‘Jason! Are you ready yet Damian’s- oh.’ Dick stoped mid sentence when he noticed you cuddling up to his brother’s side.

You and Jason looked at Dick, who seemed frozen on the spot with his sudden stillness and unblinking eyes, before looking at each other.

‘Is he…okay?’ You whispered to Jason, concerned.

‘He’s fine. Dick’s just being…well a dick.’ Jason replied as he picked up a pillow and threw it in Dick’s direction, ‘Paging dr dickhead.’ He adds as the pillow hit dick square in the face as you slapped Jason on the bicep. ‘Be nice to your friend? Brother? I don’t know-‘

‘I didn’t know you had a significant other Jason!’ Dick exclaimed, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place as he smiled widely at you both.

‘And there’s a good reason for that.’ Jason growled as his hand on your waist tightened.

‘So they’re the reason you didn’t want to come out on patrol tonight?’ Dick continued as he made himself comfortable on the edge of Jason’s bed. ‘Who knew my little bro Jay jay was in love.’ He teased and he tried to pinch Jason’s cheeks, only for Jason to smack it away with a grunt, dick shrugs as he played on his stomach and kicked his legs. ‘So tell me how you met, leave no detail out of it.’

Needless to say dick has to be dragged out of the room by the scruff of his neck by an agitated Jason as he dropped him off with Damian, who was sharping his sword, and said ‘he’s your problem now.’ And went back to his room to you to cuddle.

866 notes · View notes

theladycarpathia · 3 months

Text

I've seen too much stuff about Clipboard Buck and Tommy lately to not write this.

His boyfriend on a power trip should not be hot.

“See,” Chim mutters under his breath, leaning over the rail to watch Buck down below. “I warned you.”

“So you did,” Tommy agrees, keeping his true thoughts to himself. Buck has the clipboard clenched in one hand, pen in the other, and directs a reluctant Hen and Eddie as they perform checks on the ambulance and the ladder.

“He’s a menace,” Chim continues, with feeling. “He’s a dictator!”

“Uh huh,” Tommy says, watching the furrow in Buck’s forehead as he makes another tick. He gestures furiously towards something in one of the ladder’s compartments and Eddie puts down the jaws to argue back.

“We keep hiding the clipboards,” Chim says darkly. “I don’t know where he keeps finding them all.”

“Unfortunately for you, I think that’s something they sell at most major retailers,” Tommy quips and rests his arms on the railing.

He’s worked under power-crazed maniacs. He was in the army, and then he had Captain Gerrard. His own father was one fully for his way or the highway.

Buck being like this should not be hot. And yet all Tommy can think about is lying naked on the bed while Buck does things to him from a very meticulous and organized list.

Eddie makes an obscene gesture behind Buck’s back and Tommy smirks.

“And this is Buck on a regular Tuesday,” Chim says and pops his gum. “Wait until you see Buck in an emergency or organize an event. It’s a good thing you stopped by. You need to know these kinds of things about a person before you get serious.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Chim,” Tommy says, although stopping to chat to Chimney hadn’t been on his agenda for today. He and Buck have had conflicting shifts lately, and they’ve barely seen each other. Texts and a few brief phone calls have been all they’ve had to get them by and Tommy finally had enough of it. Bobby doesn’t mind Tommy swinging by the firehouse and seeing Buck if they’re not on a call. And today is apparently so quiet that Buck has time to do a thorough inspection of the vehicles.

“Are you?” Chim asks suddenly, twisting towards Tommy with a surprisingly calculating look. “Getting serious?”

Tommy just shrugs. He knows the answer, he’s just not entirely willing to discuss it yet. But it’s been long enough now that they keep toothbrushes and few essentials at each other’s houses, that they have evenings where they sprawl together in front of the TV, just happy to be together. Tommy knows about his sister, the loss of Daniel, the myth of Abby and has even read Taylor Kelly’s book.

Which he did in bed, reading several segments out loud, much to Buck’s horror and embarrassment.

“You seem to be,” Chim comments, and down below Hen throws a roll of surgical tape at Buck. “Not that I’m complaining. We like you, Buck likes you, you flew us into a hurricane…”

“I like him too,” Tommy says, because honestly he’s been smitten since Buck came up with that stupid motto back in the helicopter. “Funny to think that Evan and I never met before as he only got to join the 118 because I left.”

“You got there in the end,” Chim says. “I mean this as nicely as possible but you leaving worked out great for me. If you hadn’t left, there wouldn’t have been a space to fill. If Buck hadn’t joined us…”

“Then you would never have met Maddie when she came to LA,” Tommy says, understanding instantly. Funny how something that simple has changed so many lives. He doesn’t regret moving to Harbor, even with the closeness that the 118 has now. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise, without that space to accept himself. If he didn’t have that, maybe he wouldn’t be the person brave enough to kiss Buck. “I get it.”

“Although,” Chim continues, still watching Buck down below. “We wouldn’t have the Clipboard Dictator if you had stayed…”

“You love it really,” Tommy says, because he knows Chim loves Buck. But then Buck’s eyes swing upwards, towards the first floor and the two of them.

“Oh shit,” Chimney hisses and then ducks below the railing. It doesn’t work because Buck just shouts “Chim, it’s glass! I can see you!”

“That wasn’t your best idea,” Tommy says and then offers Chimney a hand. “Come on. I’ll go down with you. Maybe I can make the tyrant a little bit sweeter.”

Chimney doesn’t look soothed by this.

“Hello, Chimney,” Hen says pointedly, sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Nice to see you. How funny you happened to be hiding in the bathroom when Buck gets his clipboard out.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Chimney mutters, eying Buck’s clipboard with apprehension. “Kinard, save me.”

“Evan,” Tommy says, snagging his boyfriend’s free wrist with one hand. “I came by to see you. Maybe we give the workforce a five minute break?”

Buck frowns down at his list. “I wanted to finish this before Bobby was done with his paperwork,” he says before looking suspiciously at his friends. “And if they leave, I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“Damn straight,” Eddie says under his breath. Hen just looks innocent, although Tommy is pretty sure they’re about to see three empty firefighter shaped spaces.

“Just ten minutes,” Tommy cajoles, stroking the soft part of Buck’s wrist with his thumb. “I haven’t seen you all week.” He drops his voice down for the next part, hoping that Buck is as desperate to see him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Buck practically throws the clipboard at Eddie.

“Taking a break!” he says cheerfully, half dragging Tommy behind the engine. “Be back in ten or I will hunt you down.”

“Will he do it with a chainsaw, I wonder?” Hen has time to ask (Tommy feels as though he should follow up on this later), before all three of them vanish. Tommy doesn’t see because he’s pressing his boyfriend up against the gleaming red of the engine and kissing the breath out of him.

“What can we do in ten minutes?” Buck asks, eyes glittering, running his hands up and down Tommy’s chest.

“Probably not a lot, as we’re in the open, in a firehouse, during your workday,” Tommy admits begrudgingly. A week is a very long time. Buck’s salacious texts and suggestive selfies haven’t been enough. “But we have time off in two days and I want to spend every second with you.”

“Good,” Buck says and the next few minutes pass very quickly. Buck tastes of coffee and he keeps both hands planted on Tommy’s rear - if he keeps squeezing like that, Tommy is going to have difficulty walking out of here.

“I think we order takeout and movies and don’t leave the house for twenty-four hours,” Tommy suggests, just as Buck licks the shell of his ear. Fuck. This kid will be the death of him.

“Fine by me,” Buck says and pulls him in for one last kiss. “But I really should get back to work. Call you when I’m off?”

There’s such obvious suggestion in his voice that want searches in Tommy’s gut almost instantly. He pushes it down and strokes Buck’s rather red jaw.

“Can’t wait,” he says. “And Evan? Go easy on your friends.”

But the others are waiting for them, standing in a line by the stairs, obvious glee written all over their faces. Eddie is holding Buck’s clipboard and Tommy deftly removes it from his grasp.

“Why, Mr Buckley,” Hen says, looking them up and down with a smirk. “That’s not a proper use of company time.”

“Ha ha,” Buck says mutinously, and with far more confidence than someone wearing a ridiculous amount of beard burn should have. “We have a lot to do. Where’s the…?”

Tommy hastily recaps the pen and hands it back to Buck, as though nothing is changed. He’d feel bad about it if it was an official document. But as it was Buck’s handwritten list of chores, he thinks the others might get some amusement out of it.

He kisses Buck on the cheek and waves goodbye, quickly ducking out of the firehouse before Buck notices.

“Who vandalized my list?” Buck shrieks indignantly and Tommy just skips all the way back to his truck.

#bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #evan x tommy #buck x tommy #clipboard buck #911 abc #911 season 7 #chimney han #hen wilson #eddie diaz

551 notes · View notes

berry-potchy · 4 months

Text

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, spanking, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara #potchy-writes #dbf!miguel #dad's best friend miguel ohara #dilf miguel ohara

669 notes · View notes

nikkento-writes · 1 month

Text

Rub You the Right Way - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Choso x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: female reader, 2nd-person POV, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – cunnilingus, use of sex toys, cum eating, PIV sex (missionary), breeding and pregnancy kink

Summary: You and Choso are next-door neighbors who are very much smitten with one another. After a month of dirtying up third base as much as possible, the both of you are finally ready to hit it out of the park.

Author’s Notes: Baseball euphemisms because why not LOL? Thank you for reading! I love these dorks so much! This is the final installment of this teeny tiny series, so thank you all so much for the love and support on this, it means the world to me! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are not expected but always appreciated. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

“Damn, that was good!” Yuji exclaims, licking off the last of the chicken katsu curry from the rim of the bowl. He leans back on one hand, rubbing his belly with the other, a loud belch escaping his mouth. “Oops, sorry,” he apologizes, only a little bit embarrassed.

You giggle, stacking his empty dish on top of the others, standing up to place it in the sink. “I’m so glad you liked it. I couldn’t have done it without your brother, though. He’s a really good teacher.”

“See, I told you, didn’t I?” Yuji smirks, pleased with himself.

“It’s not hard to make, especially with the boxed curry mix.” Choso’s voice is bashful, downplaying the praise from both you and his brother. Still, you can sense the tiniest hint of pride in there.

“He’s too modest.” You return to the table to sit next to him, nudging him playfully.

Yuji rolls his eyes. “I know! It’s so frustrating! Seriously, you’ve got to give yourself more credit, bro. You’re awesome.” The blush on Choso’s cheeks are adorably obvious now as he continues to wave off the compliments.

“Yeah, you really are,” you reiterate, resting your hand on top of his thigh, squeezing him gently. With the table obscuring his view, Yuji can’t see this small gesture, nor does he notice the subtle way Choso reacts, flustered and slightly aroused. He’s been wanting to touch you all night, but not in front of his precious baby brother, who remains clueless to the extent of your relationship. Before you can pull away completely, not wanting to rattle him any further, he hooks his pinky with yours, his grip unyielding. You smile to yourself, the two of you linked together while you chat with Yuji about your plans the rest of the night, which consists of Choso teaching you how to make a lovely castella cake, amongst other not-so-innocent activities. For the sake of Yuji’s virtue, you decide to leave that part out.

It's been over a month now that you and Choso started your relationship after that unfortunate package mix-up, which ended up not being unfortunate at all. By total accident, you unboxed his brand spanking new Cock Sucker 3000, and in a bizarre attempt to alleviate any awkwardness from the situation, you proceeded to use your own sex toy in front of him while he demonstrated his, resulting in the hottest night of your life. Two days following that, after another ridiculous misunderstanding, the both of you realized your feelings for one another and decided to give this a shot.

You’ve learned so much about him, most importantly that he’s quite the fragile soul, often distrusting of strangers right off the bat. The last thing you want is for him to lose his trust in you, so taking it day-by-day, little-by-little, is what works the best for the both of you. The two of you have remained on third base when it comes to sex, which you’re not complaining about one bit, considering how voracious you’ve been with each other. You’re waiting for the right time to finally hit that home run, a grand slam at this rate. It could happen tonight, tomorrow, maybe even a few more months from now. All you know for certain is that you’re happy with Choso, and he’s happy with you. That’s all that matters.

However, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t fantasizing about it already. You can’t help yourself when you’re with him. In front of others, he’s usually more reserved, timid. Alone with you, his confidence unveils. His touches are assured all over your body, an expert at all the big and little ways to make you moan in pleasure. The range of expressions he’s willing to show you, from unabashedly needy to absolutely feral, make your body tingle just thinking about it. And that voice, sweet and soft when he’s coaxing you, then to that sexy, gruffy tone as he ravishes you, whether it’s with his fingers, his mouth, his firm grip on the vibrator. It’s no shock that you’ve imagined the perfect way he’d slide into you, filling you up to the brim with his massive cock. Hell, you’ve admitted it to each other several times already, how badly you both want it, how good it’d feel to be bounded together as one. You keep reminding yourself to be patient, because when it does happen, it will be well worth the wait.

The three of you hang out a while longer until Yuji announces that he’s leaving to get ready for a party with his friends. Choso gives his brother a big hug, handing him a small bag of leftovers to take with him back to his university apartment. “Don’t party too hard this weekend,” he warns him sternly, sounding like a protective parent. “Behave yourself. Don’t make Fushiguro take care of you and Kugisaki again.”

Yuji beams at him. “Megumi likes taking care of us! That’s his idea of fun!” He looks at you, a mischievous grin on his face. “You two behave yourselves too, alright? Don’t forget to use protection.”

Shit. Okay, so maybe he does know.

Choso stiffens, an uncomfortable noise gurgling in his throat, clearly stunned by Yuji’s remark. You let out a loud and nervous laugh, desperately trying to play it cool, though you two idiots couldn’t make this any more obvious. “We’re just making castella cake, remember? We’re not having sex at all! Just some good clean fun here, nothing naughty! Right, Choso?” You’re so frazzled that you accidentally kick your boyfriend a tad too hard in the ankle, enough for him to yelp. “Right, Choso?!”

Sweat beads on your forehead while he bumbles incoherently now, failing to his explain your bizarre reactions to his younger brother, who just stands there, very pleased with himself. “Oh, I meant oven mitts,” Yuji smiles innocently, completely unfazed. “You know, for your hands.” He turns on his heel to see himself out while Choso continues to gape at him. “See you two lovebirds next week!” he calls out from over his shoulder, waving until he’s out of sight.

Choso unclenches to close the door while you bury your face in your palms, ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

He surrounds you in his sweet embrace, relaxed and actually laughing. “At least you said something. I just stood there like an idiot.”

You peer up at him, pouting at him. “You’re not an idiot, take it back.”

“I take it back,” he relents, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

Nuzzling your nose to his, you mention, “I guess that was our way of telling him, right?”

“I had a hunch he already knew,” he responds. “Yuji’s no dummy. He was already telling me stuff a few weeks ago.”

“What did he say?”

“Well, he was the one who told me to be friends with you. He’s even the one who first suggested inviting you to our family dinners.”

Your heart swells in your chest. “Really?”

He nods, a kind smile on his face. “Yeah. Yuji is a sweet kid, so I figured he was just being polite. But maybe he sees you and me being…y’know.”

You smirk, giddy to hear the rest of his sentence. “What?”

His voice is quiet, shy from the sudden vulnerability he’s displaying. “A good fit? I don’t know, what do you think?” Despite all that’s happened between the two of you within a month, Choso still has his doubts, his insecurities. The last relationship he had ended because he caught his ex cheating. From then on, he’s been reluctant to let his guard down and trust someone with his heart again. You don’t blame him for being so cautious when it comes to love, so you do everything in your power to validate his emotions, reassure him that you care for him just as much as he cares for you.

You hold him close, your heart thumping at a rapid pace. “I think we’re a perfect fit.”

He swallows down whatever nerves were tightening in his throat, relieved to hear you say it, even though he’s never doubted your true intentions. Hearing it in your voice, seeing it in your kind eyes gives him the strength to tear down all the walls he’s built around himself to let you in. Inching closer, voice still quiet, he asks, “Can we…?”

You don’t let him finish his thought as you lean forward to press your lips to his. His arms squeeze you in a tighter embrace, nearly lifting you off your feet as he kisses you passionately. Your mouths move seamlessly together, his hands gliding smoothly along your waist, yours gently caressing his face, proving that the two of you are the perfect fit indeed. There’s dishes in the sink waiting to be washed, a castella cake waiting to be baked, but who are you kidding? This is what you need right now, to have Choso’s body on yours, to taste him, to devour him, completely lose yourself in him. And that’s exactly what he needs too.

The two of you make your way inside his bedroom, not letting the other go for even a second, kisses sloppy now, all tongue and spit. He’s quick to undress you, palms moving evenly beneath your blouse. You stretch your arms up, letting him remove it completely, his eyes fixated on your breasts, still covered by your bra. He squeezes at them, his grip firm, thumbs brushing across your nipples. Desperate to feel him without this extra layer of clothing, you turn around, wanting him to unhook the clasp, which he does. His lips graze you, peppering soft kisses along your shoulder while he pinches at your nipples with the perfect amount of pressure to have you moaning. “You love it when I play with your tits like this,” he whispers, mouth hot on your ear. It isn’t a question; he says it with confidence, bordering on cockiness with the way he smirks at every little whine that escapes you. You love this switch from shy and sweet to bold and unashamed, always eager to fulfill his sexual appetite for you.

“I do,” you answer breathlessly, his cock hard and throbbing between your ass cheeks as you grind against him. “You know I do, baby.”

“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” he groans, sucking on your ear lobe. One hand travels past your navel, tugging at your waistband.

Your crane your neck to meet his lips. “You’re my baby. You’re all mine, Choso.”

He moans into your mouth, lapping at your tongue. “Yeah, I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

You slide out of your pants, leaving your panties on, the silk ones he adores on you. On the bed, you lie on your back, watching him strip the rest of his clothes off while he towers over you, licking his lips when he positions in his head between your spread legs. He’s been indulging in this recently, eating you out through your panties, getting them soaking wet with his spit and your slick. His gaze meets yours, those typically kind eyes hiding something feral brewing inside him. He’s masterful with his tongue, spreading it wide on your clit, puckering his lips around you until you’re squirming. You grab hold of his head, grasping strands of his soft hair as he devours you.

As if this wasn’t enough for him, he hums into your skin, pointing at the bedside drawer. He doesn’t have to say it; you already know what he wants. You’ve made it a habit now to keep a few of your sex toys at his place, including your most favorite vibrator, the same exact one you demonstrated for him when all of this first started. It soon became his favorite too. You pass it to him shakily, already at the edge, ready to burst any second. He takes it, holding the tip to your covered clit, the fabric properly drenched now. The vibrations start instantly as he pushes the button, causing you to jolt from the sensation. “Fuck!” you cry out, toes curling, knees wobbly. “Please, Choso.”

“Please what?” he teases, stroking his cock with his free fist.

“Please take them off,” you beg, writhing below him.

He smiles wickedly, hooking the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them off you. “That’s my good girl.”

You kick them off frantically, immediately spreading yourself for him once more. “Hurry, baby,” you whine.

With the vibe still buzzing in his hand, he leans down, giving you a wet smooch on your clit, then presses the fluttering tip to it. Pleasure radiates from your core to every limb of your body and you eventually reach your first climax of the night.

“God, I love how fucking wet you get,” Choso moans, licking up and down your slit, savoring your orgasm. “So fucking sexy. Makes me want to come.” Precum leaks from the tip of his dick as he jerks himself faster, lips coated in your arousal as he continues to use the toy on you while drinking every drop of you up.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,” you say, trying to catch your breath. It’s both too much and not enough. The vibrations are relentless on your clit, his tongue hot and wet on your pussy. You’re drunk off this, head light as air, vision getting hazy. Drool spills from one side of your lips, losing control of your composure as you succumb to yet another orgasm, this time, with two of his fingers inside you.

“So greedy,” he grins, his cock stiff against his abdomen. He takes his digits out of you, spreading your cum on his shaft. “You want more, sweetheart?”

You reach for his cock, desperate to have him fully inside you. “I want all of you.”

His demeanor changes at this, almost like you’ve said the magic words. He swallows nervously, stopping the toy and setting it aside. “Are you serious?”

You smile, nodding at him. “I want all of you, Choso. But if you’re not ready – ”

“I’m ready.” It stumbles out of his mouth in a rush, as if he’s been meaning to say it for a while now. “I want you. I always want you.”

“You have me.” You tug him towards you, wrapping your arms and legs around him, nuzzling your nose to his. “You’ll always have me.”

He kisses you, humming softly against your lips. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit.

You twitch at his touch, already sensitive from earlier, but still so needy to be filled by him. “Hurry,” you beg him, gyrating your hips, losing your patience.

“Condom,” he mutters, reaching towards your nightstand, eyes focused on how close his cock is to being inside you.

You snap yourself out of whatever dangerous desires are playing through your head and nod in agreement, stretching your arm out to open the drawer, blindly retrieving the box of condom wrappers and small bottle of lube. With trembling fingers, he unwraps the condom, rolling it over his cock, coating a generous amount of lube on it. He eases inside you, both of you moaning as you stretch around him perfectly. When he’s to the hilt, he stays still for a moment, kissing you fervently, so happy to finally be connected with you like this. “Is this good?” he asks, always adorably concerned about you.

You giggle, hugging him tighter. “It’s amazing baby.”

Reassured, he starts thrusting, pulling out ever-so-slightly to pound right back inside you. You squeeze every inch of him as he fucks you deeper, fighting the urge to come on the spot. It’s so damn good, too fucking good, like he’s on this euphoric high, impossible to come down. He can’t believe how incredible this feels, even with the condom on, and it makes him want to burst thinking about the near future when he’ll have a chance to do you without it. How pretty you’d look with his cum spilling out you. That fucked-out expression on your face as you beg him to breed you. The gorgeous belly when you’re pregnant with his baby...

Choso has to physically shake his head to rid these obscene fantasies from his thoughts. He really can’t help himself when he’s with you. Grunting with each thrust, he resists the temptation to pull this condom off to give it to you raw, reminding himself that patience is a virtue and that the two of you have all the time in the world.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to come. As soon as you’re right at the edge of your third climax of the night, you cry out, “Right there, baby! Fuck me right there!” holding him tight as you spill all over his cock. He comes as soon as you finish, certain that if you weren’t using protection and assuming you’re currently ovulating, he’d surely get you pregnant with how fucking intense this load was. Choso pulls out, carefully pulling off the condom, taking a couple of seconds to marvel at all the cum you managed to draw out of him. You laugh, watching him as he ties the open end to toss into the nearby trash bin. “Is it a lot?”

He snuggles up next to you, nuzzling his nose to your neck, back to his precious puppy-dog cuteness. “If we weren’t using protection, it would have definitely gotten you pregnant.”

You joke, “And is that a bad thing?”

He rests a hand on your stomach, his touch tender and sweet. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind raising a little baby with you.”

Normally, you’d freak out. Normally, Choso would freak out. But for some odd reason, the idea of sharing a future together, of raising a family together, seems right. And while it’s only been a month, you’re both confident that the two of you will be spending a long, healthy, loving life with each other.

Choso’s phone vibrates on the nightstand, rousing the two of your from your post-coital snuggle session. When he reads whatever notification he’s received, he chuckles, turning the screen towards you, displaying a text message from Yuji:

So…how’s that castella cake? ;)

He types up a quick reply before putting his phone on silent to spend the rest of the night cuddling you uninterrupted.

Absolutely perfect.

#choso x you #choso fluff #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #cw breeding kink #cw pregnancy kink

278 notes · View notes

pillowspace · 9 months

Text

Thinking about how Charlotte Emily most likely regularly hung out with the Aftons.

William comes downstairs at 9 in the morning to see Charlie and Elizabeth with empty teacups and a teapot, and is just like, ah. Of course. Little girls love tea parties, but indulges them anyway like "what are you two up to?" Elizabeth immediately lights up. "Charlie said that we should play British People 'cause we're British!" William, now a bit more confused, "...ah. I see." Elizabeth, "oh won't you join us? Pretty please?" Charlie then pipes in that she had also asked Mike, but that he had very unfortunately said no, because "Liz plays too mean." Elizabeth, "I do not, you're just too scared to lose!" Michael, "I can't fucking lose at 'British People.'"

Charlie and Elizabeth do atrocious things to their dolls. Drama. Tragedy. They always clash on the endings though, as Charlie wants their dolls fo have a happy end while Elizabeth wants their dolls to have an even worse end

Michael doesn't know Charlie's staying over, and brings home his schoolmates one day. William Frowns TM like "I tried to tell you Henry was dropping off Charlotte today, but you were already halfway out the door." Michael later re-enters the room to find his schoolmates picking on Charlie and pulling at her hair. The closest Michael ever feels to peace is when he's with the Emilys, so he immediately spirals at the sight like, "oh god, if Uncle Henry finds out I brought people over who hurt his daughter, he might not bring her over anymore. What do I do then? What do I do if he stops liking me?" He quickly shoos off his friends, going "dude! She's a guest, leave her be" while Charlie recovers. Before he too can follow after them, Charlie asks Michael if he'll draw with her. He hesitates. The Emilys are the closest he ever gets to peace, so he agrees and sits down to draw. "What are you drawing, Char?" "Marionette!" "'S that the creepy thing that's always watching the guests come and go at Freddy's?" "He's not creepy, he's my friend. Dad made him for me :(" "ahh. You know, my father's been building something for Liz too." "You think that it'll protect her like Marionette protects me?" "Maybe."

Charlie notices how anxious CC always seems to be, and declares one day that she'll keep him safe. She makes him a drawing of them both holding hands, and gives it to him so that he may always look upon it and know that Charlie's rooting for him. He nearly bursts into tears at the kind gesture. The whole household tries to be nicer to each other whenever Charlie's around, but CC tells her about Michael's behaviour to him. Knowing how weak Michael is to her, Charlie gives Michael a look while he's grabbing cereal the next morning like "you should be nicer to your brother. He's just a little kid." Michael immediately pauses, then awkwardly closes the cupboard like "ummm. Okay." Not wanting to use Charlie as a means to make fun of CC, he just never brings the interaction up afterwards

The Emily and Afton families joining together are constantly filled with different forms of jealousy from the Aftons. William, he's jealous of Henry. Michael, he's jealous of Charlie's positive relationship with her father. CC, he's jealous of how Michael seems to like Charlie so much more than him. Elizabeth doesn't even notice her own jealousy, but deep down, Charlie's completely peaceful household... confuses her. She rationalizes the lack of favouritism or hostility as it only stemming from Charlie being an only child, rather than Henry's good parenting. Being so young as well as being the perfect golden child, Elizabeth doesn't know how to express doubt in her father. Clearly, it must be her siblings doing something wrong if Charlie and Uncle Henry are doing so well on their own!

After CC's death, the house is filled with an unbreakable tension. It's grief. It's guilt. Michael and his schoolmates completely cut ties after what happened. And as always, the Emilys feel so separate from the tension of his own home. Michael starts talking to Charlie more frequently, more often at Henry's house rather than his own. He tries not to, or at least usually tries to hide first, but he accidentally has a complete breakdown in the living room one time. Charlie hums a soothing lullaby to him until Henry eventually comes back, notices the state Michael's in, and takes over calming him down while sending Charlie off to do some other seemingly helpful task. After Elizabeth's death, Michael only really has the Emilys left. Charlie stops just being his source of peace, and becomes his best friend. His only friend. Then after Charlie's death...

It's rather lonely all of a sudden.

Later, years later, when Michael's flesh is rotting on his bones and everything is just about to finally be done with, he sits down on the edge of a cheap creaky stage he bought, and lightly knocks his knuckles against Lefty's calf. "Charlie? Can you hear me alright? It's Michael ... I'm sorry. I know I never acted like it, but... for what it's worth... you were my best friend back then. ...Whatever's beyond this, would you like to be friends again there too?"

672 notes · View notes

lakes-writting-rambles · 26 days

Text

Out Of Choice, But Not Out Of Reach - #1 Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things

words:2889

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes your destiny is completely out of your hands – Danny Fenton couldn’t seem to find a way to avoid learning that lesson. First; when he was shot when Slade invaded the headquarters of the League, and subsequently his family, was using, while the fight between Slade and Grandfather was going on, he used the chaos to get to the Lazarus Pit before he bled out; a second time when he died in that godforsaken portal; the most prevalent one was definitely his first meeting with Clockwork, there he noticed that it doesn’t matter how hard you try, if it isn’t meant to be, someone will interfere. It doesn’t mean he won’t still do things as before, but now there’s forever the dread of knowing.

It’s been about a year since what he, Jazz, Sam and Tucker dubbed “The Dan Incident”, and Danny can't seem to stop thinking about it. Well, not really about Dan, no, but about Damian. He can’t stop thinking about how Dan likely ended up killing Damian – it’d be inevitable, and, considering the state the future he had been shown was in, he hoped Damian went early on, really, he also hoped it was quick, like he tried to do when he was in the League.

What really bothered Danny, though, was that he couldn’t help but wonder if staying with the Fentons even was a good idea at this point. Surely he has learned that misfortune would follow him anywhere he went, so why wait for the shoe to drop? Before the accident, he was relatively safe to live the rest of his life in Amity, sure, it was kind of a deadend, but it was tranquil, so he couldn’t really complain. Now, though? He was in constant danger inside and outside his house, being half dead meant no place with the living and no place with the dead. He should leave while he still can.

The League isn’t likely to spot him, considering it’s been years since his “death” and he probably looks different enough from Damian now… which is something he’ll have to think about later. And the threats of dissection (vivisection?) by his parents keep increasing – he doesn’t want to fuck around and find out.

So, the League is probably not an issue anymore, staying seems to get more dangerous each day and he’s pretty sure most ghosts only come to Amity to fight him.

Nevertheless, running away also came with a plethora of problems, for one: leaving Jazz and his friends. When he got adopted into the Fenton household he tried not to get attached to anyone. He couldn’t keep that up for long, as a touch starved 9 year old that came from a violent background and got thrown into a very loving family. First, he got attached to his parents, then Jazz, Tucker, and finally, Sam. He doesn’t regret it, not one bit, but it might make this choice hard to make – since the easiest way to run away would be to fake his death and forgo any contact with everyone from his old life. Maybe they’d know he wasn’t (fully) dead, maybe they’d just be extremely miserable, he wouldn't know.

Another issue is that he’s the current Ghost King, and oh boy doesn’t that complicate things? He keeps getting more powerful, which means keeping his cover is getting harder – an unsettling and overpowering aura surrounds him now, and sure, it reacts to other people’s emotions as well as his own, which in theory should make it easier to hide, since everyone in Amity seems to have differing opinions on his two personas, but the fact that his aura is big enough that others take notice is concerning enough on its own; he’s control over his abilities needs to be impeccable or he risks getting found out; and he’s pretty sure some of his more ghostly traits are beginning to bleed over into his human form. He also needs stable access to a portal, since he needs to take at least two trips per month to the Ghost Zone so he can check over things with Clockwork and parade around to remind the citizens of the realm that he is their king; he can’t officially take over since he’s still alive, once he’s entirely dead he will, but for now the observants act as regents and that’s more than fine by him.

And third: he’s not really sure where he should go. You’d think Gotham would be his first option because of his father, but he has too much media presence, so Danny’d be brought to the spotlight. Does anyone in Amity care about Gotham? Not that he knows of. But it’d still be too big of a risk. Plus, Tucker really wants to work in Wayne Enterprises in the future, he’s sure that it’d become a problem in no time.

So… what to do? Money isn’t a problem, since he has access to all the treasure hoarded by Pariah Dark over the centuries, but that’s not all he has to consider. He needs some sort of safety net, that much is obvious, and since he won’t be able to count on his regular support system, he should fall back on his blood.

Maybe he could go to Blüdhaven? It’s close enough to Gotham that he can go there if he somehow needs to come into contact with someone from his biological family but not enough that he’d be immediately clocked… but then there’s Nightwing… as long as he doesn’t get into any trouble it should be fine, right? It’s not like there’s a city without a hero nowadays… Urgh, nevermind, he’ll come back to these thoughts later, he’d rather not spend his rare moment of peace coming up with what to do after he fakes his death.

Sometimes fate decides that things should be ultimately out of your hands – but Damian Al Ghul Wayne fights with all his might to avoid such a thing becoming a rule in his life. When he came to live with his father, around 7 years ago, he held out hope that his twin had made it and would eventually return to his side. That never happened. And now Damian isn’t sure how to approach the topic of Danyal with his family, so he just… doesn’t. Even after all this time, it feels wrong to keep the memory of Danyal to himself, he should be celebrated, even if his death was premature and almost a decade has passed.

Danyal had died the same day as Grandfather, which is why his grief isn’t questioned –, even if the Bats are well aware of his distaste of his Grandfather’s actions, now that he’s recognized them for what they were. Damian isn’t sure if it’ll ever come to pass, because in quiet moments like this, he thinks of what could have been.

His twin was never needlessly violent, and his killings were virtually a mercy, compared to the others in the LoA, even himself. Maybe he would have adapted faster than Damian did, maybe he would have made a better Robin, maybe they would still wake up together and share little moments of quiet.

It’s all speculation, all it will ever be. They never found his body, but even now, years later, the image of his pierced chest is burned between the other twin’s eyes, it wasn’t likely to survive a wound like that, and even if he did, the bloodloss would’ve killed him regardless. But to a 9 year old, the what ifs often overshadow reality, which is why Damian had kept his hopes up, afterall, one of the many teachings of the League was that “if there isn’t a body then one should always consider the possibility of the victim having survived”. But now, at 16, he could see it for what it was, the foolishness of a child longing for what is gone – he’ll never admit it, but in the darkest, deepest and most hidden part of his heart, Damian still has a little bit of wonder, almost completely squashed, but a bit of hope of seeing his brother once again remains.

There’s no use for pondering at the moment, time doesn’t stop and soon one of his siblings will notice his absence at breakfast and come to pester him, thus he gets up and readies himself to face another hectic morning.

“If I were to go missing, where would you search for me first?” was not a question Tucker was ready for, like, at all, but especially at two in the afternoon on a saturday. Danny hadn’t been the same since that thing with Dan or whatever they had dubbed it, he didn’t change much, but he seemed to get lost in thought more frequently, and Tucker didn’t blame him! Really! But man, what went through his head was morbid at times, and he maybe shouldn’t voice those out of nowhere.

— Uhh I guess… your parent’s basement? — awkward silence fills the air, it’s the most obvious answer, but not a thing they normally consider outloud. A grimace crosses Danny’s face for a second.

— No, I mean, if I …ran away. — he says, and there’s some hesitancy. Obviously, there’s more to the question, but Tucker can’t for the life of him figure out what it could be.

— I’d guess Wisconsin, since it’s close by and you might be able to rely on Vlad if push comes to shove, but that is not likely at all, — Sam starts before coming to a slight pause to think. — Maybe Missouri?

— Why…?

— Cause it’s close by, it’s not like we’d let you get far before going after you. — she smirks and gives his arm a little punch.

— I think we’d find Danny in Florida, actually, — Tucker chuckles before continuing — it’s the only place where he wouldn’t stand out.

— Oh, screw you. — He says before he lunges at Tucker.

Sam watches for a bit, the conversation got to her more than it did to Tucker. She decides that now isn’t the time to worry about it, she doesn’t think Danny would leave them behind without saying anything, not after all they’ve been through, but it did leave a sour taste in her mouth. To stop herself from spiraling down a rabbit hole, she jumps – literally jumps – into the struggle.

That is how the three friends end up scratched all over, with dirt and grass stuck to their clothes and silly smiles on their faces, looking up at the sky as the clouds pass by. Moments like this used to be common, but with the chaos that is Amity Park nowadays a chance to just relax and joke around as friends seems more and more like a luxury.

Their peace is interrupted when Danny sighs, a defeated sigh that usually comes after his breath fogs – which means there is a ghost nearby. A shout ruptures the quiet and kills any hopes for the rest of their afternoon.

— BEWARE! I AM THE BOX GHOST!

— Alright, — he gets up and stretches. — Just wait for me, I’ll be back in a sec.

Sam and Tucker look at each other, worried glances on both ends – they didn’t even need to say anything. Things will never go back to the way they were before, that is something all three know intimately. Danny died. Everything they have witnessed is bound to leave some sort of mark as well. And there are the Fentons. Sam and Tucker knew Danny and Jazz loved their parents, but at this point it seemed inevitable that someday they’d turn on Danny, and it seems that even if he doesn’t talk about it, it’s also something he believes.

It feels unfair, Danny seemed to have come from a bad background and was settling into his own skin and fully letting his guard down for what felt like the first time before the accident. And wasn’t that heartbreaking? He’d adjusted to the life in Amity early on, but to actually enjoy himself? That took some 2-3 years, and to trust that he could always rely on the people around him? It had just started happening into the beginning of their ninth grade. Then the portal opened and he had to put some of those walls back up to protect himself, not just emotionally, but physically as well. Now, they’re in 11th grade, they should be looking for colleges and studying for entrance exams, but instead, Danny is thinking of running away.

They know how their friend thinks at this point, and it’s undeniable they’ll likely have to say goodbye soon.

Dealing with the Box Ghost wasn’t hard, but it sure was annoying. After the fight (if you could even call it that) ended he went back to Sam and Tuck, they laid on the grass for a while longer, ultimately, they got hungry and headed to the Nasty Burger and ate before parting ways.

Danny plops face first into his bed. Well… he could have approached that with more subtlety. Maybe it was his subconscious trying to get them to look for him, or something, to prepare them for his absence. That sounds too close to something Jazz would say…

He turns around, putting his arm on his forehead. His thoughts keep getting away from him, always back to Damian – would he have liked Amity Park? Probably not, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn’t even see himself liking it there when he arrived – in fact: He had hated it. The city was so calm it felt forced, the Fentons so loving it felt like a trap, the kids lacked any malice at all, everything screamed danger at him, like he was about to be ambushed. Nothing ever came to that, just a nice, cozy, little town.

Well, until the portal opened, that is.

He stops and just looks at his ceiling for a bit, the old glow in the dark stars already discolored and lacking any actual functionality, there was no reason for them to remain there but the attachment to what they used to be, kinda like him. There was no escaping his current reality. No escaping his need to desert this city, this family, this life.

Danny sits up and looks around his room, which for the last few years had become his safe haven. He looks at the stained carpet, marked by his many sleepovers with Sam and Tuck, he looks at his ceiling fan, that was cracked from the time the trio had tried to recreate the solar system on it, he looks at his closet, his posters, his desk, everything that was proof of the life he had lived here.

He needs some water and something to eat before setting his plan up.

As he heads down the stairs to the first floor he hears his mother’s soft voice coming from the kitchen.

— Oh Jack, I’m so worried about Danny, — the phrase startles Danny, he turns invisible and intangible, floating a bit so as to not make any sound, — his ecto-contamination has only gotten worse over the years… how can we be sure he’s okay?

— Honey, I’m sure Danno is fine! He must be building up resistance!

— But what if… what if it’s fusing to him? What if there’s no reversing this? — His mom is chewing on her lower lip, clearly distressed.

At the sight, his dad softens up and hugs her, his voice comforting as he speaks, — We’ll make sure he’s fine, Maddie. We might not know what happened, but we know each other and we know what we’re doing, we’re experts in our field.

Danny can’t stay there anymore, they know he has ecto in his system and they know it’s getting worse. They know and they want to “fix” him. He’s completely and utterly fucked.

Alongside his nervousness there is also newfound resolve. He quickly phases into his room, grabs his thermos, maybe two shirts and a pair of pants, he shoves it all inside an old backpack he hasn’t used in years. He will need to dispose of his phone, taking anything electronic with him will leave a trail and he can’t have that. Hopefully his parents don’t have his ecto signature yet, he doesn’t think he has the time to get rid of it if they do.

He checks the kitchen again, they aren’t there anymore, likely back in the lab, then. He has to leave through the front door, to not raise any suspicions. Now, how to make this realistic? Maybe he can fake being murdered? No, Amity doesn’t really have that type of violence. Maybe he can fake being a casualty in a ghost attack? But he’d have to damage public spaces to do so and he doesn’t want to endanger anyone else… Fake getting kidnapped? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, even as a human.

He could also just up and leave. It’s not like Amity has any actual investigative police force… Maybe he’s complicating things too much. He needs to go before he has time to chicken out. His parents will probably make a move on his ecto contamination within the week and he can’t be there for that.

— Bye mom, dad, be back in a bit! — and so, he shuts the door – leaving his house for what will probably be the last time.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inevitabilities And Such Unfortunate Things > Those We Leave Behind

AO3

#dp x dc #fanfic #crossposted on ao3 #ao3 #angst #light angst #danny runs away #my guy is not having a good time #danny phantom #danny fenton #danyal al ghul #phanfic #dc x dp crossover #crossover #dp crossover #dc crossover #not really mentioned yet appart from the league

172 notes · View notes

sourbinnie · 1 year

Text

☆ hit me where it hurts.mp3 ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst ¡! ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> sometimes things shouldn't be said (or thought) but the words slip right out of his mouth at the worst time. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> arguments ; the boys being a little mean but instantly regretting it ; cursing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

hyung line

a/n: here's the maknae line version! we'll see if i can write a second part but i'm debating where i should double down on the sadness or make them have a happy ending

jisung ✉

you didn't know what shocked you more, his calm nature in argument isn't something odd but he never let it get out of hand. today he did unfortunately and it started a screaming match in your shared apartment about god knows what. like a competition to see who could hurt the other worse and guess who won? yeah not you, you won the tears that couldn't stop streaming as you remembered.

"fuck (y/n) were you always this bad? they didn't make my life this difficult." and if you were making his life so difficult then you were gonna walk out of the scene of the crime. "no, i didn't mean that. i don't know what came over me, it was just the heat of the moment. please don't fucking leave-."

"so you can keep on screaming at me? yeah no thanks, i'm going." it wasn't even the screaming that got to you, jisung could be loud and you never cared. but it felt like poison the fact that he compared you to someone he himself broke up with. "just stay away from me jisung, i can't even look at you right now."

"don't say that. i know i fucked up but i can fix it, i promise i can fix it!" he insisted but you couldn't believe a single word coming out of his mouth as you grabbed your things to leave. "baby please, i know it wasn't okay but i can't bear seeing you like this, at least promise me you'll come back?"

"i'm gonna be honest. i don't know if i will." you said and the last thing you remembered was the sadness on his face turning into pure horror and fear that you were gonna leave him forever. you couldn't even make a decision right now as you had so much in your own mind that it was getting worse & worse. as much as you loved jisung, people say things because they truly mean them right? and maybe you two were not meant for each other as you thought you were.

felix ✉

getting ignored by felix meant something was wrong and that you were in deep trouble. it got you thinking about your previous fights with him and how you handled them. you usually talked things out and told each other what you felt when he got like this but right now it seemed impossible as he dodged you every time you got close to him even though he was the one who invited you a few days ago to the dorms tonight. the tension could be caught with a knife and all the boys felt it so most of them decided to leave before it got bad except chan who looked at you two carefully and tried to figure out what was going on.

"lix can you talk to me? i don't know what's going on or why you're so distant but i would like to work things out." you said as you got close to him and sat down but he just pretended like you weren't there. it felt so weird to be so distant with the person you love the most and it deeply hurt but nothing scarred like what he said.

"can't you get a hint? i don't wanna be near you right now. god i don't know why i broke up with them, they're not awfully clingy like you are." he muttered as he tried to walk away but i guess it hit him what he said and turned around to look at me. i couldn't even cry, i was just going through my mind trying to handle everything he said at once and figuring out that i should probably leave. "baby no i'm sorry, please at least stay here so you don't have to walk in the middle of the night."

"there's no way i'm staying close to you today." even if it hurt him, nothing was gonna be as bad as what he said to me and he would have to deal with that. "please let me go felix."

"felix, i'll walk them home and we'll talk when i get back." chan said and i could see the hesitation on felix's eyes but he eventually did let go of my wrist and i could finally leave. i couldn't help the tears that were flowing as i got out of the building and tried not to make a fool of myself in front of chan but he was like an older brother to me so as soon as he offered me a hug, i gave in and let go.

seungmin ✉

you weren't sure how to handle things with seungmin when he got in a bad mood. it's like you two didn't even know where to begin discussing the things that made you both upset and talking it out like normal people. it always led to a fight about who’s right and who's wrong and not about how you two exactly felt. it also led to him using some insecurities against you this time which you were not having it.

"listen (y/n) i don't know what you want from me but i'm done arguing." he said and you sighed, you were glad that everything was finally over between the two of you. "if i knew it was gonna lead to this, i would've stayed with them and never asked you out."

felt like a cold bucket of water dropped on you and it made you want to leave immediately but you froze. trying to process if it was real that your seungmin felt that way about you and your relationship, meaningless like it was nothing at all. it took all the strength left in you to get up and head to your shared bedroom to lock the door and not say anything else. as soon as realization hit him and what he said, he was on the other side knocking.

"i'm sorry i don't know what came over me. i promise i'll be better, please let me see you? i can't stand the fact that you're alone and suffering right now." he said but the sobs were uncontrollable and choking up on tears was so disheartening. "baby please, i won't leave this side until we talk it out. (y/n) i love you..."

"i love you too but please leave me alone for now will you?" you said even if all you wanted was a hug right now, you weren't sure you wanted one from someone who felt that way towards you. you could hear the footsteps getting further and further as you held onto your knees tight and buried your head, trying to make the tears stop.

jeongin ✉

it felt so weird to argue with jeongin. it was one of his first relationships and he still didn't know how to express himself without hurting you and sometimes he didn't know how to handle the tears that came after the hurtful words. he felt like crying himself most of the time he saw you cry and it wasn't easy to calm each other down if both of you were in a bad state emotionally. this time he did let the anger get the best of him and he dived right into the meaningless words that you would hear in a fight, well they were meaningless to him but to you? not so much.

"jesus fucking christ (y/n). i don't know what you want from me anymore, you're making such a fuss and i know they would never do this shit. i don't know why i'm with you." it was too late to regret anything as he looked at you, with shock in his eyes that he even muttered that.

"if you feel that way then i should get going." you said as you bit your lip and tried to hold back from the break down that you were about to have. "i don't know what i expected but for you to talk to me that way? i didn't see it coming."

"(y/n) love, i'm so fucking sorry. please don't leave me." he said and yes the tears were flowing from his eyes and yes you did feel horrible about it seeing him like this. but it was his fault and to grow from it he would have to deal with hurting you as you walked in the direction of the front door and he chased after you. "please, i'll do anything but please don't go."

"if you wanna do something then understand i need some time away from you right now. goodbye jeongin, we'll talk later." you said and closed the door before he could follow you. a sigh and a tear came out of your body as you looked up and hoped that you two could mend things but it was all up to you at this point. and it hurt to know that he felt in a way you would've never even dream of feeling.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz reaction #stray kids x reader #skz drabbles #skz x reader #skz angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids angst #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

3K notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 2 months

Text

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he��ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

#.momcon #he's so scummy aaaaaaaa

161 notes · View notes

stayconnecteed · 10 months

Text

❪⠀🪐.⠀𓏔⠀i wanna be yours · masterlist⠀❫

☆ㅤif you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot !!

synopsis: eight stories that take place at the 5-STAR café, known on campus as the best place to study for your exams. the owner, bangchan, recently finished his degree, and decided to turn the place into a shelter for students who are trying to get the best coffee as cheaply as possible. stay and discover the love stories that hid between the walls of the place, in which employees and customers are the protagonists.

content info: stories non-related one shots, there is no specific order, although i will post them in the classic skz order (first the older, the maknae as the last one). specified warnings on each chapter.

( hii, happy sunday!! ♡ )

01. ╱ HOT CHOCOLATE (bangchan).

Every time you tell someone that you don't like coffee, the reaction is total incomprehension, even indignation. But when your university classmates leave you standing at the café where your crush works, you decide to order a coffee to try to avoid looking bad and end up making a fool of yourself.

02. ╱ CAPPUCCINO (lee minho).

After a bad run you are forced to look for a second job, and you end up covering the first shift at the campus café. Every morning you find the same guy waiting for you to open, leaning on the wall, looking flawless, and it gets on your nerves. Until one day you see him leaving the dance academy where you teach, getting on the same bus as you.

03. ╱ FLAT-WHITE COFFEE (seo changbin).

The boy on the train you met the other day invited you on a date at his favorite cafe, and although he seemed like the perfect guy, he is turning out to be a disappointment. Luckily, the cute barista serving you has noticed, and is trying to make you have a good time, despite everything, which makes you think that you wish the date had been with him.

04. ╱ ICED AMERICANO (hwang hyunjin).

When arguments at home get too loud to ignore, you always end up grabbing your laptop to go study at the café next door, but it's not the first time you've run out of battery. Unfortunately, the tables with plugs are usually occupied, even the one next to you, where the annoying boy in your class who doesn't want to let you plug in the charger is sitting...

05. ╱ ICED CARAMEL LATTE (han jisung).

You have been working in the hostelry industry for a long time, and for a few months now at the 5STAR café, but recently your boss has changed everyone's schedule, and now the person who has the shift before you leaves you post-its stuck everywhere. It always makes you smile, until one day you decide to find out who it is.

06. ╱ MATCHA TEA (lee felix).

You haven't been in Korea for at least two years, but when you return to do a trip and show Seoul to your sister, you end up back on the campus with the excuse that you can't leave without your sister trying 5STAR's coffee. To your surprise, the freckled barista still remembers your order perfectly. It can no longer be a coincidence when your sister starts talking about him in your mother tongue and the boy seems to recognize the language.

07. ╱ ESPRESSO (kim seungmin).

With how much effort your grandmother had put into spending entire afternoons trying to teach you how to play chess, no one could have guessed that you would like it so much, or that you would be that good at it. And you had no idea that when you had accompanied your friend to the place where he works and moved that piece on the board, you were going to start a game of anonymous chess that you were more than willing to win.

08. ╱ FRAPPUCCINO (yang jeongin).

Whenever Changbin asks you for a favor, you end up regretting agreeing to help him. This time it is to be in charge of training the new barista hired, who seems to be seeing a coffee maker for the first time in his life. Even so, you take pity on him and try to teach him everything you know, even if that means listening to your colleagues' jokes and customers' comments, even discovering that maybe he didn't know so little.

taglist: @sseastar-main · @queen-in-the-shadows · @anaiii27 · @hanstarrs · @starsandrqindrops · @ivaneedssleep · @bbokari711 · @kayleefriedchicken permanent taglist: @jazziwritesthings · @rylea08 · @starlostastronaut · @manuosorioh · @kpopmenace143 · @skzms · @darkypooo · @pochaccomin · @caitlyn98s · @hanstarrs · @atinyniki

to be part of the taglist, fill this form or send an ask!!

500 notes · View notes

spitdrunken · 8 months

Note

I’m loving your vees x reader take and I thought I’d add some of my own:

You push back against the vees once, and it ends badly for you, especially with Val.

ooooo i love this thought!!

notes: implied (sexual) assault (not done by any of the Vees), forced prostitution

Maybe this is the universe where 'you' are an erotica writer for the Vees, completely unaware of the amount of privileges you're being given. Well, compared to the typical unfortunate soul that ends up doing 'contracted work' for them, at least. You aren't worked to the bone by Vox, not held to Velvette's high standards nor lashing tongue, or made to spread your legs for anyone or anything by Valentino, including himself. You just stay in your small office, meet your deadlines, and have semi-regular meetings with Vox. Really, you have no idea how lucky you are.

Pushing back against the Vees could mean anything. Perhaps you insisted on getting more royalties in return for your work, or for your deadlines to be pushed back. Depending on how long you've been working there and the level of interest from the Vees, you might have messed around with someone too much, and protested against the consequences.

An example will need to be set. A first punishment should be one of the roughest ones, the three of them agree, in order to set a good example for the future. And, well... Who better to leave it to than Val? Valentino will give you something worth actually bitching and moaning about. He's likely not angry enough to actually shoot you, but there's plenty of other things he can fuck you up with! His goal is making you know your place, know how nice they've been all along... What better way to show you that, than making you walk the track?

Valentino makes enough money off of his porn and demons begging to hook up with his people, that he doesn't actually send people out on the street anymore, except as a punishment. The risk is simply far higher than any possible rewards, in Hell at least. He's famous now, so there's no need for it. The only thing worse than a dumb whore is a dead, dumb whore, he'd laugh out when asked about it. But this shit was what he made the majority of his money came from back in life, so he knows exactly how to dit.

You'd get dressed up in clothes of Valentino's choice, flashy enough, and obviously related to the Vees, so that you're sure to get your fair share of attention. You'll get demons drooling at your feet, without you even having to try. Though the possibility of you getting robbed is just as present. Valentino practically shoves you out the door, a hand on each of your shoulders, and a grin on his face. You're allowed back inside when you make me a bit of cash, baby. How about a thousand? And then slams the door in your face.

You're left out on the street, and shaking. You stand out far more than you'd like, and you have no interest in actually going through with what's been ordered of you. But how else are you supposed to get that much in cash, that quickly? You stand there, trembling, entirely unsure of what to do. Your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Valentino: i can see you out the window. Valentino: get OUT THREE Valentino: you don't want to stand around for too long.

And maybe you go out there and try, or maybe you don't! Either way, you're such an obvious target that it doesn't take long for you to be cornered in an alley, knife to your throat. (And even though you know you can't actually die anymore, that all of your cells will, eventually, regenerate, that doesn't make your fear any less poignant.)

Perhaps you are only robbed, perhaps something worse, but after that, when you're alone again and crying, your phone starts to vibrate so hard that you take it out and throw it away-- It feels like it's about to explode, after all. And out pops Vox, all pleasant smiles and offering you to take you back to headquarters. You're safe now, just trust him. If he'd been able to do that all along, then, why didn't he save you before? The question is ready on your lips, but you don't speak it aloud. You know the answer, and you're not ready to hear it spoken by another.

...You guess you know why Velvette sometimes calls him a 'prince', now.

#valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #velvette x reader #vox x reader

314 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

PROMPTS FOR DEEP CONVERSATIONS * assorted dialogue for thoughtful discussions, adjust as necessary

do you think there's more to this?

will we ever be free?

what are you grateful for?

do you enjoy spending time with me?

when's the last time you spoke to them?

unfortunately, i know exactly how you feel.

this can't be all there is.

i believe in truth.

why are you so unhappy?

what was your first heartbreak like?

you have to trust me on this.

believe in yourself.

what's the first thing you noticed about me?

what are you doing to make the world a better place?

do you understand the gravity of this?

i think we were meant to find each other.

do you believe in a higher power?

if you could live anywhere, where would you go?

i haven't felt this way in a long time.

what are you proud of?

if you knew tomorrow was your last day, how would you spend it?

i can't go on like this.

we have to take a chance.

i never gave up on you.

love is the most powerful thing in the universe.

every time i look at you, i see my future.

that was a life lesson. i learned it the hard way.

i can't help but think i should have done more.

do you believe in fate?

if a genie gave you three wishes, what would you ask for?

i've always wondered about that.

at what point are we good enough?

who are you, really?

if you had a million dollars right now, what would you do first?

maybe this will make you change.

things feel different here.

life doesn't make sense.

i'm not perfect. none of us are.

sure, it's scary, but we can't stop now.

it's easier said than done.

i think you can do it.

who broke you?

how do you know when you're in love?

i know that's not the answer you were hoping for.

i wish i knew what was waiting for me.

would you change anything about me?

i've never seen it like that.

we have to keep moving. we can't slow down.

you've really opened my eyes.

has anyone ever broken your heart?

this could lead us to infinite opportunities.

what would you have done differently?

i have so much faith in you.

who was your first love?

i can take care of myself.

i think you should follow your dreams.

you've changed my life in ways i can't explain.

they always said you were different.

i'm not giving up hope.

how can we make the world a better place?

i want to leave a mark on the world. do you?

how do you feel about it?

how would people describe you?

do you ever say no?

were you expecting something else?

who do you compare yourself to?

do you believe in aliens?

i'm not a child anymore.

do you think we were meant to be together?

i trust you with my life.

you are so much stronger than you realize.

if you could say anything to them right now, what would you say?

i didn't know places this beautiful even existed.

do you remember the dream you had last night?

i don't think we're alone in the universe.

love is the answer.

that's all there is.

do you love them? i mean really love them?

we can't sit around and wait for our lives to happen to us.

have you ever been in love?

do you believe in justice?

i won't give up on them.

you inspire me every day, you know.

2K notes · View notes

just-a-girl-who-wrytes · 1 year

Note

Omg I just accidently found your blog and I'm so freaking happy, cause there are not enough writer who writes for Deacon 😭 unfortunately I'm super obsessed with him, with an unhealthy amount of fic ideas in my brain xD so I give it a try and send you one of those, hopefully jot annoying you with this (or with my shitty English, it's not my first language, so I'm sorry).

Well buckle up for my request:

Reader is a new Swat member and instantly everybody loves her, with her bubbly friendly self. She's bonding great with her teammates and especially her and Deacon grow super close (they develop feelings for each other but don't want to tell the each other afraid to ruin their friendship, so their feelings stay hidden). When one day a case goes sideways and it leaves her injured (maybe a concussion or something like that) Deacon blames himself for her injury and the next days he distances himself from her, cause he thinks that it is unhealthy for him to have such deep feelings for her and him constantly worrying for her wellbeing. She notices his change of behavior and she's super sad. He starts to being unfriendly to her and being a little bit of an ass?! Even alerting the other members with his behavior. The whole situation is taking a toll on her and she is starting to effecting not only her poor heart but also her health. (so maybe she falls sick, but keep it from her teammates especially Deacon, cause she thinks that after her injury during a case he thinks of her as not capable or something like that). That is until one day she doesn't show up to work which very uncommon for her, cause she's always on time and the first one at the station. They're all worrried and Hondo tells Deacon that he has to drive to her apartment. Well he tries to refuse and send Stress but Hondo insists, so Deacon drives to her apartment. He finds her suffering from a very high fever..... So maybe with a happy ending like Deacon regrets his shitty behavior, she instantly cries when she recognizes him in her feverish state, asking him why he hates her suddenly, which is now breaking his heart. He cares for her and nurses her back to health, or at first tries to bring her fever down. Later he confesses why he was an asshole.

Soooorry it's so long. There's so pressure for you to write this. Maybe you just want to use some ideas? Well I would be so happy.

Please take care lovely

Here you go, hope you enjoy!

“Nice!” Luca exclaimed as the team watched you send rounds down range from your firearm.

With the increase in officer related shootings, LAPD had decided to provide each team a SWAT medic and you were the newest member of 20 squad.

“Who knew girls can shoot?” You heard Deacon asked. You turned to playfully scowl at him and noticed him wink at you.

“Better watch it, Kay, or I’ll show you just how good I really am.”

You had been a part of the team for just over two months and they were the best guys you had ever worked with in your career. You truly became a part of their family – you had their backs and they had yours. There was one that was different though.

David Kay.

You had noticed him watching you on more than one occasion, stealing winks from you, sharing small, flirtatious smiles. You weren’t sure if your attraction to him was mutual or not, but if you had to guess, you would say yes. However, you didn’t want to complicate anything by dating one of your teammates and you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had developed with Deacon. You assumed Deacon adopted the same mindset because he never brought it up either.

However, that didn’t mean your flirting with each other fell on blind eyes.

The entire team noticed it and often gave you both shit over it.

You both were in the middle of denying another teasing round of friends with benefits accusations from your teammates when you were dispatched to a school shooting.

The mood immediately sobered up as all of you put on your gear and grabbed your bags and firearms. The ride to the school in Black Betty was quiet minus updates from Hondo.

“Stay liquid, guys,” He told the team as you pulled up on scene.

There were multiple reports of injured children inside of the school.

This call was all yours.

It was going to be your job to go inside and assess each injured child to see how critically injured they were. It was your team’s job to protect you while you did that. You were going in without any knowledge of where the shooter was, but you knew if you had children, you would want someone to go in and save your baby. You swallowed your fear and prepared to do your job.

You got out of the armored truck and took your spot in the middle of your team. You slowed your breathing down to get your heart rate under control and keep your emotions in check.

Deacon made sure that he stayed close to you as you entered the school. He knew his teammates would have your back too, but he felt… differently about you. He cared about you a lot. He had quickly fallen for your smile and your personality. You didn’t let the team’s banter intimidate you one bit from the start. You were quick and witty with your playfulness with them. You were smart as hell when it came to medicine and you had proven to be a solid member of the SWAT team in training exercises and on calls you had run together. He wanted so badly to ask you out to dinner, but he wasn’t willing to change the dynamic of the team by adding a relationship to the mix. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be protective over you – whether you noticed it or not.

That was why Deacon had taken it so personally when you were knelt down, applying a tourniquet to a fourth-grade student’s leg and got shot by the hidden gunman. His team covered him while he immediately turned to you to make sure you were okay. The round had struck your vest, but you knew it had broken ribs. The pain you felt in your side was unmistakable. Regardless, you threw your body over the child’s to protect her from the gunfire that ensued. Deacon and Luca dragged you both behind a desk behind a wall in a classroom.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asked without taking his aim from the door way.

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” You ignored his question as you continued to try and stop the little girl’s bleeding.

Your voice was forced and you were breathy.

“I asked if you were okay,” Deacon said angrily.

“I’m fine.” You retorted.

You soon heard Tan’s voice over the radio that the shooter had been neutralized. You didn’t know if there was more than one shooter, but didn’t see any signs of one so far. When you got the clear from Hondo, you radioed for another team to come in and get the girl out and get her to a hospital. Once she was safely removed, you resumed your formation in the middle of the team to continue to clear the school building. Deacon could tell you were injured because you didn’t shoulder your firearm correctly, but he didn’t see any blood so he let it go. He was pissed off at you for not stopping and going to get help yourself, but he was even more pissed off at himself for not seeing the gunman before he shot at you.

It took two hours to clear the rest of the school and stabilize the remaining children. By the time you were done, you were visibly diaphoretic and short of breath. You could hardly manage three words without stopping to catch your breath.

“20-David to command,” Deacon radioed, “We need an EMS unit to our location, we have a team member who needs to be checked out.”

You were in pain, you couldn’t breathe, and you were pissed off that Deacon asked for EMS without consulting you first.

“Why did you do that?!” You managed to asked through clenched teeth. “These children need those paramedics.” You took a few shallow breaths, “Not me! Cancel. Them.”

If looks could kill, your sergeant would be the one who needed a medic unit, not you.

“Officer,” Deacon said sternly, “You look like hell and you cannot breathe.”

You started to open your mouth to cut him off, but he started speaking loudly again.

“Now, I suggest you shut up and listen to your sergeant. I am not the one who takes orders from you.”

His harsh words hit you harder than the bullet hit your ballistic vest and left you just as speechless. David had never been so disrespectful to you. If the paramedics hadn’t arrived to assess you, you would have turned in your badge right there. You knew the rest of the team had noticed as well because they were all silent which pissed you off even more. Where was your support?

The paramedics tried helping you onto the stretcher, but you refused it. Despite not being able to speak for being short of breath. You held onto the stretcher for support and walked to the ambulance. By the time you finally made it outside to the ambulance, you were physically unable to get into the ambulance because you were hurting so bad and so short of breath. The EMS providers finally convinced you to get onto the stretcher and they were able to load you into the truck.

When you arrived to the ER, you were taken to a trauma room due to the fact that you had technically been shot. Your chest x-ray revealed a collapsed lung due to the broken ribs.

The rest of the team finished debriefing before being cleared to leave for the day. Hondo met Deacon in the quiet locker rooms since most of everyone else had already left.

“Deac…” Hondo paused, knowing he needed to tread carefully, “What was up back at the school? I have never heard you speak to anyone like that – especially one of our teammates.”

Deacon slammed his locker shut.

“Hondo, now ain’t the time, brother.”

The lieutenant raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I won’t press, but I do ask that you consider an apology. It was unwarranted today. We all performed immaculately given the circumstances.”

“No, Hondo. No. We did not all perform immaculately.” His tone was biting.

Deacon walked passed Hondo and left the locker rooms. He left the station and threw his duffel bag in the backseat of his truck. He climbed in, started it, and drove to a nearby lake that off the road and would likely be deserted after dark on a week night. He parked in the dark and slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration.

Tears filled his eyes as he mentally kicked himself in the ass for missing the shooter that injured you today. He didn’t fight the tears as they spilled down his cheeks. What had gotten into him? Why were you different? Why was he so upset? Why did you getting injured bother him so badly? You were okay and you were expected to make a full recovery according to Hicks. Where along the line had he developed feelings and why was he so afraid of talking to you about them?

You spent 6 days in the hospital, 4 of those with a chest tube before being discharged home. During your entire hospital stay, Deacon had not been by to see you once despite daily visits from the rest of your teammates. It made you mad, but most of all, it hurt your feelings. You really liked you sergeant – or you thought that you did. His actions since you had been injured spoke louder than any words that could have been said.

Luca and Chris were there to take you home and help you get settled. They carried your bags in and Chris helped you unpack your things while Luca cooked supper for the three of you. Chris helped you remove your bra so you could put on a loose, comfy t-shirt. Being the only females on the squad left you two comfortable around each other.

“That is one hell of a bruise, babe.” She said as she looked at your black and purple side.

You had to agree – the entire left side of your torso was bruised. It looked awful. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to help manage your pain with narcotics.

“I’m glad it finally looks worse than it feels… Which is saying a lot because it still hurts like hell.”

You slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and made your way back into your kitchen with Chris.

You took a pain pill and joined your teammates in your living room to eat the spaghetti that Luca made.

“Thank you so much for taking care of me guys,” You said several hours later as you walked Luca and Chris to your door.

“That’s what we’re here for, love,” Luca said, pulling you into a gentle hug.

You kissed his cheek, “Supper was delicious, Dom. Thank you times a million.”

He returned the kiss to your cheek and Chris pulled you in for a hug.

“Call us if you need anything?”

You smiled at her after the hug, “You know I will.”

You settled onto your couch with a glass of wine. You knew the alcohol and narcotic wasn’t the smartest elixir, however, you needed to mask more than your physical pain.

You couldn’t get Deacon off your mind and your heart had yet to stop hurting. Your emotional pain screamed much louder than your physical pain.

“Dammit!” You heard through clouded consciousness. “What the fuck?”

You felt yourself being picked up and carried to your bed. You recognized a familiar cologne but quickly disregarded the scent and winced at the pain in your ribs before drifting back off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning nearly in tears again as you entered a coughing spell. You managed to get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen where your pain pills were, but you were scared shitless by a man sitting at your kitchen table. As soon as your heart began racing with fear, the fear subsided, realizing that it was Deacon sitting inside of your home.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck, David?” You held your chest with one hand and braced your broken ribs with the other.

He didn’t answer you.

You ignored his silence and took your morning pain medication.

“Ya know… I said the same thing last night when I came over and found you unconscious on your couch. So, I can also say, what the fuck? What were you thinking?” Deacon’s voice grew steadily louder as he stood up and turned to you. “Pain pills and alcohol?”

You were angry. “Something to make this shit stop hurting,” You spat as you snatched up the side of your shirt to reveal your black and blue torso.

You could tell the extent of your injuries caught Deacon off guard. His facial expression softened and he didn’t respond.

You let go of your shirt, letting it fall back down to your waist and continued fixing yourself a glass of water to take your pain pill with. You took your medicine and continued to ignore your sergeant as you turned your back to him to get the milk out of your refrigerator to fix yourself a bowl of cereal. His hand stopped yours mid-air reaching for your cabinet. He gently held your wrist with one hand and you felt the edge of your shirt being lifted again. He let go of your hand, staring at the bruising that covered you. You could sense his demeanor soften.

There was a long silence as he took in your injuries.

“I’m so sorry…” He whispered.

The tone in his voice felt like a hug to your soul.

“Deacon-” You turned around to face him.

“No, listen to me,” he interrupted you. “This…” He grazed his fingertip down your side, “is all my fault.”

The confusion was written all over your face.

“I should have seen that bastard before he ever had a chance at you.”

You began shaking your head but you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“You’ve been an asshole to me ever since it happened, David, what the hell has changed now?” You were beginning to grow angry again.

“Look, I am so, so sorry.” His voice was gentle. “I should have stopped that guy before he shot you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like I did. I should have visited you in the hospital. You are a teammate and I failed you, but I really should have told you from the get-go that I have developed feelings for you.” He didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke so you struggled to follow him, but his last sentence hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Excuse me?”

“Ever since you have been on the team with us, you have become more than just a teammate to me. Truthfully, I have liked you from the day that I met you and my attraction to you has only grown every single day. I like you so much more than just as a teammate. I would dare say that I am falling in love with you.” He slowly reached up to cradle your face with his hand, hesitant, wondering if you would allow him to touch you.

You did.

“I am so, so sorry that I have treated you so poorly this week – so wrong. It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that I hate myself for not being able to protect you like I should have. I’ve been so afraid to let you know how I feel about you. I’m sorry I was more afraid of affecting the team than I was giving you the honesty that you deserve. Please, please forgive me.”

He looked into your eyes as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip.

“Deacon…” You said quietly, leaning into his hand caressing your jaw.

He took a deep breath and continued, “If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I came over here last night to apologize and tell you all of this. When I found you passed out on the couch, barely responsive, it frustrated me. So, I stayed here last night to make sure you were okay. Please don’t be mad.”

Silence fell between you while you considered how to respond. Given the emotions that you had worked through over the past week, going from feelings for your partner, to physical and emotional hurt, to anger towards David for not visiting, texting or calling, resentment towards yourself for having feelings towards David despite how cruel he had been to you with his absence while you had been hospitalized, you struggled to find any words.

Deacon watched you suffer through a week’s worth of feelings as he watched your eyes. You took a deep breath.

He decided that you were taken too long to respond and if he didn’t act now, he never would.

He leaned down and softly pressed his lips on yours.

You instinctively closed your eyes and allowed David to kiss you. When you didn’t pull away, he parted his lips just enough to run his tongue tenderly along your bottom lip. You opened your lips, allowing him to kiss you deeper. You began to return the kiss when David went to place his hands on your waist, forgetting about your injuries. You stopped kissing him and winced.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, your voice shaky.

Deacon noticed the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

He wiped them away with his thumbs and began apologizing to you again.

You interrupted him with another kiss. You reached up and intertwined your fingers behind his head, softly rubbing his neck with your fingertips. He moaned quietly into the kiss. He grabbed your arm and squeezed it, needing to touch you, but being mindful of your injuries. You enjoyed the feeling of his tall, muscular body, towering over yours. You felt protected.

“Deacon?”

He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing a stand of hair behind your ear, “Mmhmm?”

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#christina alonso #david kay #dominic luca #hondo harrelson #imagine #jay harrington #jim street #swat #swat cbs #david deacon kay #Deacon #David deacon kay #deacon x reader #deacon fanfic #deacon kay x reader #swat officer #love #swat x reader #swat imagines

482 notes · View notes

skellseerwriting · 1 month

Text

What is Love? (Baby Don’t Hurt Me)

Love Clueless!Morgie x GN!Reader Part 2/2

Thank you anon for the wonderful ask! I never would have come up with this on my own. Here’s part 2!

Part 1

Word Count: 1,834

Warnings: slight angst, happy ending, fluff, Morgie is happy, brief heart brokenness, physical affection, Morgie learns what love is

Summary: You decide to teach Morgie the five love languages. Unfortunately for the both of you, you are quickly falling in love. You, however, don’t think he knows what that means

Part 1: Quality time

After you had named off each love language, you needed to decide which one you wanted to start with.

Physical touch? Your face felt a little warm at the thought. Too soon for that.

Gift giving maybe? Probably too difficult right now since you barely knew Morgie. So maybe you could get to know him through quality time!

You did a little, internal, happy dance at the quick thinking. It was perfect. All it really was is hanging out and getting to know each other better. You could do that.

So after explaining that to Morgie, he simply stated “How do we do that? Just talk about things we like?”

“Yes, exactly. You’re getting the hang of it.” You gleamed. “Many friends become friends through shared interests; things they both like.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, then added. “Do we have to like the same things?”

You try not to let out a snort, and spectacularly fail.

“Of course not. That’d be boring!” He looked confused again.

“Okay, okay.” You said, prepared to explain things once again to him. “Imagine you walk into school, and everyone is wearing your clothes.” He frowns. “Now imagine instead of everyone going to class, they all ditch it just like you. They’re all hanging out in your usual spot.” His frown turned into a peeved expression.

“That’s annoying.”

“Exactly!” You tell him. “And when you go to lunch, everyone takes that favorite food of yours because they all like it, leaving none for you!”

He actually started growling at that, like a dog. You scooched back a little.

“They better not.” His lip curls up. “That chocolate tuna bread is mine.”

Your lips also curled up a bit, for an entirely different reason. This boy was so charming (not to be confused with the actual charming).

“See?” You pointed out. “That’s why it’s good that we all like different things. You’re learning already.” He nodded with a grin, finally understanding. Even though it was just one small step, it made you so happy that he seemed to be enjoying this.

You think you were going to really enjoy hanging out with him.

Part 2: Acts of Service

The next morning, when you told Morgie the next love language you’d be doing, he made a face.

“Service? Like helping out at an orphanage?” You suppressed a giggle.

“That is a form of service.” You told him, clasping your hands together with your pointer fingers sticking out. “However it’s not necessarily service service. It’s helping someone out, no matter how small. Picking up someone’s pen for them when they drop it, for example.”

“Or holding the door open, right?” He said with a happy look and something knowing in his eyes.

“Exactly! Good job” You praised, not entirely understanding his implication with that. “So, today, I want you to be on the look out to help anyone in need.” He stuck out his lower lip.

“I thought this was just going to be between you and me.” He pouted. You tried to ignore the little stutter in your heart from thinking about Morgie only wanting to spend time with you. That’s not what he means, you thought, so stop it.

You hide your thoughts with a smile.

“Most of it will be, but it’s not something that can be done a bunch in one sitting. Plus we have school, so you won’t see me a whole bunch.”

After a moment, he goes “Can we eat lunch together”? That threw you for a loop. Together?

“Erm, what about your friends, Morgie?” You ask uncertainly. His eyes widened.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s fine. You can meet me here after school.”

You didn’t end up waiting until after school.

Squealing, you open the door to let Morgie in.

“Did you see her face!”

“Yeah, that was priceless!” He jeered, walking in with squeaky footsteps. “I didn’t realize she didn’t hear me right behind her. When she turned around…” he let out a loud laugh, shaking his sopping wet hair like a dog. You brought your arms up to cover your face.

“Easy! Don’t get me wet too!”

He didn’t listen, going on with “When she dropped all her stuff, I didn’t even see the fountain right behind me. I think the universe is trying to get back at me for being good!”

He slipped of his shoes, reaching for the towel you handed him. Your dorm was a lot closer, so the moment he got pushed from surprise into the fountain, you went to help him.

“Or maybe it’s to even out all the good luck I’ve been having.” He added, closing one eye.

“What good luck?”

“Meeting you!” He answered cheerfully. You felt yourself flush at that. He didn’t mean it like that, you reminded yourself again.

“Don’t worry,” he cut through your thoughts. “I’m not going to let that stop me from acts of service.”

“Thank goodness.” You in a joking tone. “You’re getting really good at this, Morgie.” He perked up at the compliment.

You’re getting too good, you thought sorrowfully, hoping this all didn’t end too soon. You would absolutely hate that.

Part 3: Gift Giving

Smiling giddily to yourself, you held the gift in your hand as you approached Morgie’s dorm. Not wanting to put too much pressure for gift giving, you decided that you two should just give each other one gift. You weren’t too worried, thinking he might like whatever you get him. But simultaneously worried he wouldn’t like it enough from you. Still, you were quite confident that what you currently held was quite nice, so you tried not to think about it.

After a knock and being let in, you gave yourself a moment to look around the room to see how it was decorated. Silken scarves of greens and gold shimmered across the walls and even on the ceiling. A couple of books were set on a shelf, one of which was titled Different Dog Sounds. You smiled and moved on, seeing a clothes rack with clothing not unlike what he was currently wearing. What could Morgie say: He liked nice clothes.

He sat at the end of his bed, and so did you after a moment of hesitation. You cleared your throat, then held up your offering.

“This is my gift to you. I hope you like it.” As he eyed the gift, you looked at him nervously. It was a silky scarf of gold color with black lines waving through it. He already wore thin scarfs like this, but you were positive he didn’t have one like it. What if he didn’t like-

“I love it!” He beamed, picking it up gently.

“I- you do?”

“Yeah!” He told you. “Would you put it on me?”

That was an unexpected request, but you did it anyway. Picking it back up from his hands, you brought it around his neck. His eyes were on yours, and that was hard to ignore to focus on your task. Then, you realized you weren’t sure how he usually tied his. After looking at him with uncertainty, he recognized the problem and took your hands into his own. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his warm fingers guiding yours where to move the scarf, creating a loop and pulling the other end through.

His gaze never left yours; doing it all from muscle memory. It was near impossible to not let your hands freeze up until it was finished. Looking at you a moment longer than you thought made sense, he reached behind himself to grab what you could only assume to be your gift.

“I hope you like it.” He whispered, still looking at you. You broke away first, seeing what he held in his outstretched palm. It was a tiny little snake made out of clay, with a wiggly line body painted green. It wasn’t the most professionally made by any means. But upon recognizing he made this for you, you found its weight worth in gold.

“It beautiful.” You said softly, noticing its asymmetrical black dot eyes.

He moved to set it in your hand as you reached out to grab it, only for it to miss its destination and tumble off the bed and straight onto the floor.

“No!” You both cried, immediately sliding off the bed. Morgie held up the little thing. It was now broken into two pieces, right through the middle.

Seeing tears starting to form in his eyes, you grabbed the half with the head and said lightly “Hey, we can share it.”

He let out a little sniffle. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I get half and you get half.”

He smiled at that wistfully. “Like a friendship necklace.”

“Mhm,” you smiled back. “Just like a friendship necklace.”

A small part of your heart thought about maybe more than just friends, but you dismissed your feelings once again. Morgie looked at lower half of the clay snake in amazement, and you couldn’t help but silently wish he would look at you that way.

Part 4: Words of Affirmation

“So… does it involve speaking?”

“Yep! You use words.”

“What… kind of words?”

You gave him a loving look. You didn’t know what it was about him sometimes being a little slow, but it was incredibly endearing. When he didn’t get it, he would look at you with a question in his eyes; relying on you to help him. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Anything that is uplifting really, with more of a focus on compliments.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, like telling you you’re cute?”

You did a double take at that. Flames licked at your cheeks as air slowly compressed out of your lungs.

“W-well yes.” You stuttered, clearing your throat. “But that kind of comment is usually used by people who are dating, or want to date said person.”

Morgie sat on that for a second, while also sitting on your bed. His lips were pressed into his mouth, suddenly lost in thought. Finally, he looked at you again with a grin.

“Okay.” Was all he said.

What was that about? You tried not to dwell on it, or on the fact that your statement technically implied he wanted to date you when you knew it wasn’t true.

“I think you’re clothes look really nice.” You complimented Morgie, hoping to distract yourself from him by distracting yourself with him.

“Really?” He perked up like a dog. “Thanks! I really like all the little things you collect.” He looked at the aforementioned items as he said so.

“Thank you. It’s pretty effortless actually, I just keep the things people give me.” You waved him off, trying not to let every little compliment turn you into a mess. His eyes still scanned the shelves on the wall, looking for something.

“Where’s the-“ He cut himself off as he spotted it. On the nightstand, right next to where you lay your head at night, was the half snake. Your face went ablaze again as you resisted the urge to grab it and hide it; he already saw it.

“You keep it next to you?” He said in such a quiet, happy tone that your heart melted. All you could manage was a tiny nod. He gazed at you with a look you recognized in others, but you knew that it didn’t count with him; he still didn’t understand the feeling.

“So,” he began lightly. “Is your receiving love language gift giving?” You nod again at him.

“And quality time. I really enjoy that.”

“Yeah, I think I caught onto that. You know, since you enjoy hanging at with me so much.” Was that a flirtatious remark?

He smiled at you innocently.

“Well for you… I’m not entirely sure since we’re still only on number four.”

“I think I like receiving words of affirmation.” He told you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, whenever you tell me how good I’m doing.” he said, averting his gaze. “It feels like there are happy bugs in my stomach.”

You didn’t know what to make of that.

“Well, what can I say?” You said. “It’s my giving language. Acts of service too.”

He nodded. “I think that’s why I’ve been struggling recently with my friends. None of them really give me affirmation, except for Uliana. But it’s usually because she needs me to do something.”

“So you think that’s her giving language.” you asked.

“Yeah, and for receiving I think it’s the same, along with acts of service. To bad it tends to be forceful. I love doing it anyways though.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, before he picked back up again.

“Hook’s is gift giving. He’ll steal food for us; sometimes little trinkets or apparel. Like the scarf I’m wearing right now.” He looked a little happy as he recalled the memory. “He doesn’t prefer gifts for himself though, since he can steal what he wants. I think that’s why he likes to throw his arm over mine and vice versa; he can’t steal affection.” His little smile began to grow. “Hades and Mali prefer quality time. Silence with the people they care about; giving and receiving. Hades also appreciates it when I help him out with stuff.” He took a pause with a breath, then looked at you. “I know they’re my friends, but I love them like family. That’s what it is, right? Your family is the people closest to you; who mean the most to you.”

And what about me, you wanted to ask. What do I mean to you?

“Whereas romantic feelings-“ He paused, uncertainty written all over his face. He leaned several inches into your personal space. He glanced down for a moment before whispering, “they’re the one you- the one you care most f-“

You jumped away and off the bed. Immediately you regretted the look of pain he adorned. You caused that.

But no, it couldn’t be. You refused to believe it. He was just confused, you told yourself, he still didn’t understand; despite what he was just saying.

He called your name.

“Yes?”

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice broke.

“No, Morgie, you did nothing wrong, I promise, I-“ You had to get out of here. You needed to get out of here.

You did just that.

And just like that, you were both brokenhearted.

Part 5: Physical Touch

You hadn’t seen each other for a few days after you had left your dorm. Or rather, you were doing everything in your power to avoid Morgie.

It hurt. It really did. Whenever you saw Morgie he looked just as bad, if not worse. But it must have been for a different reason. There’s no way it was because he also had feelings for you. There’s no way.

It was all for the best, you told yourself. You did what you could, he seemed to understand love enough on his own now; just not enough to know that what he felt towards you was love. That you were sure of.

But no matter how much you told yourself that, it never made the pain go away. It began to fester.

It creeped into your mind like a infection, flaring up at the thought of him. And you really did like thinking of him. It brought daggers to your chest. And when you left him that night, it was a particularly cold, jagged knife that plunged into your heart. It twisted itself before being yanked out, leaving an open wound with hot liquid pouring out of your eyes.

You wanted it to stop. You wanted him. But you knew it was all just a fantasy from the moment he first stepped into your dorm room.

After school ended for the day, you went back to your room to cry again, wondering when the tears would finally dry out.

You heard a knock at the door.

You ignored it.

Whoever it was knocked again even louder. And so you decided that confrontation was the best exterminator. But you didn’t expect to see the one who was so insistent on seeing you.

It was Morgie.

You went to close the door, but he placed his arm in the way.

“What do you want, Morgie.” You sighed, tired. Tired of having to deal with all these feelings. If love was so great, then why did it cause so much pain?

“I-“ he started, trying to get the words out of his mouth. His face looked so open; so vulnerable. “Can we finish our lessons?” He ended on a high pitch.

“What?”

“Our lessons,” he stated plainly, albeit nervously. “We never got to our last one.”

Why was he doing this? Could it be possible that he actually-

“And?” You cut off your own thoughts. “You seem to have learned enough.”

He seemed frozen. “I just-“ he sighed. “Look, can we do our last language? Then you’ll never have to see me again.”

Never again? That hurt to hear. But that’s what you wanted anyways right?

“Alright.” You told him, opening your door farther. He immediately walked in and went to sit with his legs folded on your bed. Huh, you had forgotten how used to that you both were.

Fanning away the intruding thoughts of the fun times you had together before it all went to moot, you went to join him.

“So,” you said dryly, sitting on your knees in a lounging position. “How do you plan to go about this.”

He said nothing. Moving silently, he unwrapped something from around his neck. After gingerly pressing whatever it was to the corner of your eye, you caught the metallic look to it. The rich yellow color. The black waves that reminded you too much of the tears he was actively drying.

“Like this.” He said softly, moving to dry the other eye. When had he become so affectionate? You placed your hand on his wrist to stop him. He let you.

“Morgie, what is this?”

His face looked slightly flushed.

“Physical Touch.” Was all he said, carefully removing your halting hand. He didn’t let go, however, as he continued to dry your tears. Instead, he laced your fingers together. And while a teeny tiny part of you wanted to pull away, the rest of you decided to lean into him.

“This is nice.” You murmured, forgetting why you avoided him in the first place.

“Yeah?” He responded, replacing the scarf with his open palm. His fingers caressed your eyelids with a feather-like touch not unlike what he had done to your little knickknacks a week ago. How had you ever lived without feeling the touch of this beautiful boy?

After a little while, you both resorted to a cozy embrace; arms around each other.

“Morgie?” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He mumbled back adjacently. You pulled back to look him the the eyes, closer than you had ever been. You decided to tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry I ran out. I’m sorry I hurt you. The reason I did that was because I fell in love with you, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you because I didn’t think you could feel the same.”

All he did was give you an aloof, silly little smile.

“That’s great,” he said, touching your foreheads together. “Because I love you too.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“Well,” you smiled toothily. “There’s one form of physical touch that’s common for people who feel that way.”

He smiled back, understanding you perfectly.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

You didn’t wait another second.

#rise of red #descendants 4 #descendants x reader #descendants rise of red #gender neutral reader #morgie le fay #descendants morgie #morgie x reader #morgie x gn reader #my work

90 notes · View notes