#damien mention in fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

schrijverr · 2 years ago

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Shapest Tool in the Shed

A look into Eliot and how he views himself, his past and his intelligence.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: suicide ideation, self esteem issues, guilt, mentions of violence

~~~~~~~~~

Eliot never graduated high school. He has always looked old for his age and army recruiters with quotas to meet are more than glad to pretend they believe the kid in front of them claiming they’re eighteen.

So, Eliot disappears into the thrum of the army when he is sixteen – sixteen and a half, as Eliot will point out often to his mother back when he still calls home. Though, those calls end quickly, he has nothing to go back to anyway.

Quickly – quicker than someone his age has any right to do – he starts climbing ranks as the missions he gets send on get more and more dangerous. Eliot, however, doesn’t care. He’s proud of himself, of his skills. He might not have been the smartest in school, but he has found something he is good at and he relishes in it.

Joining the army at such a young age means that it is made difficult to develop a conscious. The violence is encouraged, ruthlessness rewarded and death is seen as natural. So, Eliot never really does.

He just moves into ops so special that he’s not even sure the president knows about them, doing things no human should be capable of doing without feeling remorse. There are truly two types of ways to go from there: wetwork or suicide.

Eliot rolls from specialized missions into wetwork with the ease of a seasoned professional at age 23. Seven years he served his country and now he serves his own bank account.

In his time in the army, he was often the youngest on the team and people always treated him like the baby, until they were out there in the field. Eliot had the experience to back himself up and while he might not have known what the hell Einstein or Newton are on about, he picked up enough skills to survive and those are way more valuable.

Those survival skills also include how to remain under the radar. How to function without being seen by the government when they have to be able to deny your existence. It’s knowing how to remain invisible, how to hide money, how to find water and food in the wilderness, what danger to avoid and how to blend in.

Eliot does not view himself as intelligent, but he is smart and he knows what he needs to get the job done. He picks up the skills he needs to survive. It’s either that or get killed, nothing special about it.

It takes him two years to build up a solid reputation in his line of work. Two years of staying out of sight of those that want him in prison and in sight of those that want to pay for his services. Two years before he ends up on Moreau’s radar.

Damien Moreau.

Somehow, it feels unavoidable that he ends up in front of the man. Anyone, who is someone in their business, has heard of Damien Moreau. Every hitter worth something has a job for this man on their resume. It’s been a build up. Something that had been coming for a long time.

So, Eliot finds himself in front of Damien Moreau. He’s still young, no longer naive, but with more confidence in himself than is probably good for him. It’s only much later that he’ll realize that taking his first job for Moreau is the stupidest thing he has ever done in his life.

However, Eliot does not realize that just yet, so he accepts the job from Moreau with a grin on his face, the amount of zero’s behind the number flashing in front of his eyes.

Eliot works together with Moreau for three years. In those three years he gets closer and closer to the man as the jobs he does get more and more brutal. He adapts to the work, growing to feel secure as he succeeds. Soon Eliot Spencer is the best in the business. No one to fear.

Being on top of the game, however, comes with an unforeseen setback. Eliot has never really been the best at something. He was good at a lot of things, physical things. But suddenly, he’ll look at the younger recruits and cringe at their mistakes, mentally mapping out how their behavior is going to get them killed one day.

For Moreau, these are the grunts that will do the less intricate work. He does not care if they live or die. Those who will serve him well, will live, those that will not, won’t.

Eliot then also realizes that he is their leader. He is the one in charge to organize their stings and these kids are the ones, who are supposed to have his back.

If there is one thing the army taught him, it’s that the people you’re attacking with can make or break a mission. Eliot might be skilled, very skilled, but there are certain things he can’t do alone and if these are the ones to have his back, then he’ll be screwed.

He’s going to have to take these kids under his wing and teach them at least basic skills, if they all want to make it to tomorrow.

Taking those kids under his wing backfires in the oddest way.

He starts to feel responsible for them, starts to care about their well being. Starts to care if they die. He has built these kids from the ground up, taught them what they needed to survive and when they don’t, it falls on him to carry that blame.

So, his road to redemption starts selfishly. It’s heartbreakingly in character for him and he’ll hate himself for the rest of time for it. But it is the step he needs.

The first time, one of his men dies on a mission and he feels guilt about not being able to return his body to his family, Eliot knows he is screwed. He hasn’t made the effort to bring a comrade’s body back home since he was 21 years old. He hasn’t cared about anyone dying since he was 22. Now at 28, he’s suddenly thrown back into caring; the emotion foreign to him.

Suddenly, Eliot starts to feel the need to get out. To get away from Damien Moreau and his entire operation. It’s not even that the man asks him to do worse, he has already done his worst and at the time he didn’t care a bit, didn’t flinch at the innocent blood on his hands. It is only in hindsight that he starts to feel sick at his actions.

Sparing the General had been self serving. Eliot might have regained guilt, but he still is a selfish man at heart and the General is his ticket away from Moreau.

So, he gets out.

He flees.

And then he hides. He hides and tries to deal with the fallout of getting slammed out of that disassociative uncaring state he has lived in for many years now and into a life of shame and guilt and fear. A life of revulsion at the person he has become.

Eliot has to find peace in what he has done, knowing he can never undo all the hurt he caused and never repent for all the lives he took. That he can’t go back to that kid from Oklahoma, who thought the army would save him from the horrors of high school.

He also has to come to terms that he never thought he would feel like this. That he had convinced himself he was above what he had seen break so many others in his line of work. Much like leaving the army, those in wetwork had two endings: remain uncaring till death or loose your mind and take your own life.

Right now, he is leaning hard against that second option, the first forcefully taken from him, all by that stupid kid. That kid, who had been so proud the first time he won a fight, who always managed to make a joke despite the danger they went into. Who looked with unseeing eyes and a bullet hole in his head.

But he also knows, that taking his own life, would be a coward’s way out. And Eliot prides himself on not being a coward. He is going to live through this, that he vows. He’s going to make it through and not let Moreau win, not let him take the rest of his life.

However, this is the moment where he realizes that taking that first job for Moreau, has been the stupidest thing that he has ever done.

Not just because of the destructive path the man lead him on, a path Eliot had already been walking before him. But also because Eliot has intertwined all of his being into Moreau’s business and now, he has not a cent to his name and will have to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life. Maybe if he had gotten that diploma, he wouldn’t be here now.

He has no skills next to death and if he wants to see his redemption through, he will need money, a job. Saying yes to the contract to kill again, weighs heavy on him, but he doesn’t see another way to be able to move on.

The compromise he makes himself, is no guns. If he is doing this, he is giving his opponents a fair chance and himself room to get defeated, to take the punishment.

Eliot will never be sure what Toby sees in him that night, when he is looming in his kitchen, knife in hand. Lurking and waiting for the lone cook to return for prep tomorrow. Doesn’t know why Toby would quirk a brow at him and merely say: “Your knife form is all off.”

But Toby does and Eliot is shocked to the core. His skill in weaponry is one he is proud of, the only one he has developed over the years and to hear it be critiqued piques his interests. That curiosity leads him to ask why Toby would say that and Toby merely informs him that he’ll be cutting no food if he holds the knife like that, before showing him how cooks use their knives.

It is the second time that Eliot does not complete his mission, that he does not leave his target behind dead and bleeding. Toby lives and this time, it is not out of a selfish reason. It is hardly anything, but it feels like a big step for Eliot anyway.

He stays and talks with Toby for the rest of the night, learns the other has been to prison and the hit on his head is from a former gang buddy of his. Learns that Toby now teaches other ex-cons how to cook, so they can make something off themselves. Learns that Toby has an empty spot for him if he wants to take it.

Eliot knows that he is no ex-con. What he is, is way worse and integrating back into society will always be out of reach for him. But he is closer to them than most other people. Ex-cons often don’t finish high school, get caught up in things bigger than them until they don’t know how else to live, they know violence and the fear of getting caught.

So, Eliot stays and Eliot learns.

Cooking, as it turns out, is something Eliot is good at. It’s something he enjoys and something he can use to push out all the emotions that threaten to overtake him. He can put the guilt of what he has done into pasta, wrap up the shame in the dumpling dough, mix the fear into the sauce he’s stirring and display the revulsion at himself on the steaming plates.

His 29th year on this planet is the first in twelve years wherein Eliot Spencer does not take a single life.

He has learned a non-violent skill and feels human again. Hell, he just feels again. He knows that he has more skills than the killing he gave himself credit for. He can fix cars, has picked up multiple languages and can plan like the best of them. However, Eliot will never feel smart again, fears giving himself that label, because it makes him blind.

Eliot is just a guy with plenty of skills. These skills are limited to the physical for the most part, not things that he can put on a resume, but they’re enough to market himself. Like he had already suspected, Eliot is not cut out for the civilian life. He has tried it, but he will always feel like he is putting those around him in danger.

He only stays with Toby those first two months, skipping town after the man who put a price on his head died in a shoot out with the cops. Then he travels around the world, picking up more ways to cook food and hiding from those that still have it out for him. His name carries enough weight that many don’t try, but he is intimately aware of the ax hanging above his head and the lack of funds that can carry him to safety.

So, he decides to go in a different direction. Retrieval is close enough to his old job that his skill set and reputation come in handy and pays well enough for him to rebuilt the safety net he used to have.

When changing career paths Eliot also decides that he will no longer kill and no longer use a gun. The two rules have kind of already existed in his own mind, but he makes them explicit to himself and people looking to hire him. He is turning over a new leaf.

Of course, Eliot knows that he cannot undo what he has done. He cannot make up for it and he cannot pay the universe back what he has taken from it. Eliot Spencer is a terrible man and he is aware of it. He is not looking to make up for what he has done, he just doesn’t want to make the bloodstain on his person bigger. He allows himself to be stupid enough to believe that that will be enough for him.

Retrieval can be kind of fun. It feels less intense than wetwork, while giving the same adrenaline kick and good enough pay. People will never pay the same for a statue than a man’s life, however, the amounts would be enough to send a normal person spinning.

In his new line of work, he also encounters one Nate Ford. By the time he gets into working with artifacts at 29, Nate already is an established name to watch out for and by the time Eliot turns 31, the man has chased after him on a few occasions.

And Eliot must admit Nate is good at what he does. However, Nate should also be lucky that Eliot isn’t doing his old job anymore, because he is terrible at securing a place and often times it would have been easier to eliminate him as a threat than try to work around him, but Eliot manages.

Well, he manages most of the time. Nate never catches him, but he does outsmart Eliot and gets the stuff Eliot stole back. It’s infuriating, but Eliot knows he is not the most intelligent out of the two of them. He’s not the most intelligent out of most people in the world. He didn’t even finish high school.

Then Nate Ford disappears from the scene, falls off the face of the earth for a few months. Then falls into a hole of alcohol. With a man like him, people talk and Eliot heart aches for the loss Nate endured. Eliot knows what inhumane looks like – he still calls back on that part of his life to dole out threats he won’t live up to – and what IYS did to Nate is inhumane.

However, Eliot can’t ruminate long in what happened to Nate, nor does he care very deeply. He isn’t the man’s friend, hardly knew him.

Plus, while retrieval isn’t the same as wetwork, it is still very dangerous and with Eliot’s past, he continuously has to be on high alert or it will all come crashing down on him again. And selfishly, Eliot wants to live. He is starting to like who he is becoming and starting to be at peace with who he used to be.

So, he doesn’t really think much of what happened to Nate Ford until two years later, when the man is in charge of a job.

Eliot can be honest with himself and admit it is a surprise to see Nate playing for their team. He has always been as honest as they come and Eliot knows that what they’re doing now is far from honest work, but with the turn his life had taken, Eliot can’t blame him for taking the payday and he hears how the man justifies it to himself.

Eliot can also be honest with himself and admit that Nate is good at what he does. He is obviously very clever and a good strategist. When it all goes south, the way he plays Dubenich right back can only be described as masterful.

And another thing Eliot can be honest to himself about, is that taking down Dubenich felt good. Really good.

It felt good in a different way than a good, clean kill used to feel, different than what winning an evenly matched fight feels like, different than what a good retrieval feels like. It felt like he is actually making a difference in the world. Taking down a scumbag like Dubenich prevents people getting hurt in his path, instead of Eliot hurting people. He’s protecting them.

The payout they get from the job also doesn’t hurt. The amount makes Eliot’s head spin and his head is hard to spin after all the payments he has been offered for his services throughout his lifetime.

That check, which Hardison hands to him, is his ticket to safety. There is still the chance people will come after him of course, that will never go away. However, he’ll have the funds to disappear if they do. And what this money really does, it ensure that he can say no to whatever job he wants. It is retirement money. Eliot will never have to fear again that he’ll have to resort to wetwork to keep himself alive.

With that safety, he craves to feel more of that good feeling. He has always resigned himself that he’ll never be able to make up for what he has done and, while he still believes he won’t, the work makes him feel like he can at least turn the ocean of blood into a pool.

And it seems Eliot isn’t the only one who felt good while on the job, because all of them return to Nate, ask him to lead and want them to be a team.

Eliot Spencer is pretty sure that coming back for the second job, is the only smart thing he has ever done in his life.

Working with the team is the best thing that happened to him. All of them are highly skilled in their areas and Eliot learns more than he is willing to admit from just watching them. From being allowed on their team.

If he allows himself to be honest, he can admit that he isn’t sure why they’d want him there. He has never been a good person and they’re aware of it, at least on some abstract level, so why they would even want to be near him is beyond him.

However, he can recognize special, so if he can take the hits so they don’t have to, then he’s more than happy to protect them. He has always been better at taking this hits then thinking.

He is more than happy to protect the team, to feel like he’s keeping this bit of goodness alive. To feel like he’s doing good by keeping them safe, instead of keeping safe the riches of someone who got them through carnage. Just the fact that he is protecting instead of hurting is more than enough, he can take the punishment, repay the hurt he doled by getting hurt for them.

And he is grateful that the team lets him, that they recognize him to make the calls he has to make and that they trust his judgment in the situations he knows best.

It’s not that he’s smarter than them, he tells himself. He knows he isn’t. Grunts like him just repeat the same steps over and over again, see what works for others and what doesn’t. It’s one big dance they all do.

But that doesn’t mean everyone knows the responses, Eliot does. Eliot knows risks, one of the only things he has had to get good at. One of the only skills he honed.

So, he knows it’ll be safer for him to take the beating from Tank, rather than risk the team in one of Nate’s convoluted last minute plans after they’ve already been made. And he knows how to respond to the kidnappers when Nate and Maggie are taken.

What throws him for a loop about it all, however, is that the other seem to respect him, seem to think he is knowledgeable.

Sure, Hardison continuously makes fun of his punchy hands and how he doesn’t understand tech and Parker gets an odd amount of joy of poking at the bruises he got by trying not to kill anyone as he fights, while Sophie calls the fighting barbaric and Nate uses him as human shield more often than not.

However, when Nate puts him in as a grifter, no one questions his choices and they all assume he can do it. When a new language pops up they turn to him to see if he speaks it and when it all turns south, Nate refers to him to get them out and everyone follows what he says.

A part of Eliot can’t help but think of those kids he was in charge of under Moreau. The ones that didn’t make it on the dark days. How much it hurt to loose them. How much worse it will be if anything ever happens to the people under his care now. How easily they trust him with their lives when he isn’t the brightest out there and one mistake can end up with them dead.

Eliot feels like he doesn’t deserve their trust, but revels in it anyway. Feeling human is something he hasn’t done until he was 28 and feeling positive about being alive is a novel experience that has only come once he met the team.

Slowly, he starts to feel like maybe he doesn’t have to get their trust, their faith in him. He just has to accept it and play his part in keeping them alive.

Naturally that means it come crashing down. He already doesn’t deserve the trust they put in him and now he’s lying them and putting them all in danger by allowing them to go after Moreau without speaking up. Without warning them of the dangers of that man. Without telling them all he knows about how Moreau runs his operation.

The guilt is eating at him and he makes another stupid decision. His whole life is already made up of stupid decisions, what’s one more? He’s only ever done one smart thing and that is stick with the team, he’s not putting them in danger when it is his past haunting them.

He decides to go after Moreau himself.

Of course he still has the team’s back while they go after his former boss, he is just also going behind it, so they won’t ever get to their final destination.

Eliot reasons that if he can kill Moreau, before they get close, then no one but him will ever have to know about his past. About how stupid he has been. How many people he’s hurt. No one but him and Moreau, who’ll have a bullet in his head.

Moreau loved having him as a secret weapon, few people know he worked for him and his leaving Moreau’s side has been kept under wraps to avoid Moreau seeming weak. As far as the dirty underbelly is concerned, Eliot is still out there, doing Moreau’s bidding.

It’s not a reputation Eliot is a fan of, but it helps. He knows how the silent shadow of Moreau has kept some people off his back these past five years. Let him be peaceful. Allowed him not to have to kill again.

He will have to kill again.

Yeah, he knows that is a pessimistic way to look at it, but there is no other way to defeat Moreau and he knows it. He has spend years in the man’s operation, he knows how hard it will be to come close to toppling it over. How smart Moreau is. Should he live, he will find a way to break out and rise to power again. It’ll only be a matter of time.

So, Eliot has resigned to breaking his no-kill streak to take down Moreau. Anything to protect those who have taken him in, who somehow see good in him.

Finding Moreau isn’t hard – Eliot has kept tabs on him ever since he left – it is finding an opening to take him out that is difficult. If he had Hardison at his back to track Moreau’s digital moves or Parker to look for unseen entrances or Sophie with her way of getting close unnoticed or Nate’s planning, he might be more successful, but he can’t involve the team in this. He’ll have to do it in his own stupid way.

Not that he isn’t cautious, of course. Eliot’s one skill next to violence is risk assessment, as stated before. He knows how to not rush in unprepared. How to not get killed. It’s the whole thing that got him in this mess in the first place.

Just like he knows it’s easier if you have good people at your back, but how those people will be at risk of dying if either of you don’t know how to assess the risks. If either of you do something you shouldn’t have. He can’t risk the people at his back again, when he has the most experience in what he is doing. When him dying matters less than them dying.

Eliot works alone, he knew that back then too and if he involves other people in that sort of job, they get dead.

Naturally, this plan of his also doesn’t work out for him. The pressure on the team gets bigger and before he can take a shot on his own, Nate is already hounding Moreau and will not be swayed differently. Eliot understands Nate not listening to him about it, he doesn’t have the mastermind’s brain and he never tipped his hand as to why he might know how dangerous this is.

A part of him knows that if he speaks up, they’ll think twice about it, but then they also might just kick him to the curb. He would get that. But then they would go after Moreau without him there to keep them safe and why he might be dumb, he isn’t stupid enough to let that happen.

So, Eliot stays quiet and Eliot plays along.

However, he makes sure to get assigned to get the auction details from Moreau and volunteers Hardison to with him. He is the smartest person Eliot knows and he needs some smarts at his back before he does something stupid again. Plus, Hardison trusts him the most. He hates himself for it, but Hardison is the one that won’t question him if he has to do something and who’ll play along if needed. Eliot wants him there.

At the elevators Eliot realizes that if he doesn’t take charge now, they’re never getting in and if they do, they’ll be blown in seconds when he is recognized. So he does something stupid and gives the guards his real name and hopes Hardison’s smarts will balance it out.

Standing next to that pool, Eliot realizes that thinking he would be able to face Moreau again is one of the dumbest things he has ever done.

Fear grips him as he is face to face with the man, who made sure Eliot would never find peace ever again. It takes all his energy not to let it show. To not let slip how terrifying is of Moreau in front of him and for Hardison in the pool behind him.

Eliot will say yes to anything if it means Hardison will be able to come up for air again. If the other dies due to Eliot’s own stupid decisions, he’ll never be able to live with himself.

So when all Moreau wants is to have some General dead, then Eliot will do that without any hesitation. He already knew going after Moreau meant ending his no-killing streak.

In the end, he doesn’t kill the General. It’s almost ironic that the two times he thwarted Moreau it involved not killing a General.

More surprising is the fact that the team doesn’t immediately send him away. Not even Nate, who has witnessed the carnage that can be Eliot Spencer. The person he used to be without a soul, without remorse or a conscious. That heartless killer.

They’re a little mad at him of course, but they seem to understand why he didn’t want to tell him, how much Moreau scares him.

And when they keep him away from Moreau during their second con they run on the man, it doesn’t feel like distrust. Instead it feels like they’re keeping him away from his personal devil, so he won’t have to go through that again. It feels like he’s being protected and no matter how much his mind screams at him that it should be the other away around, his heart can’t help but feel safe.

After they take down Moreau, Eliot throws himself into keeping these people safe even more than he did before. Putting his body on the line is the only way he knows how to make up to them for the man he used to be.

He scales a mountain, getting Parker back safely. He takes a carnival ride to the face, because Nate told him to do his worst. He takes on a cartel to get Hardison back. Subjects himself to torture because Nate asks, goes back to his roots and tortures the interrogator right back when Hardison is taken again. He even contemplates killing again, so Nate won’t ever have to come close to being who Eliot used to be.

He doesn’t, though. He doesn’t, but it’s close.

When he holds the gun to Dubenich’s face his hand is shaking. Killing in that warehouse took more out of him than he thought. Not killing has soothed his soul like nothing else has ever since the kids under his command died.

Eliot knows that he will give up that peace of mind if Nate asked it of him. If the man wanted someone dead, Eliot would pull the trigger.

But Nate hasn’t asked for this death.

Sure, he wants the man dead. Hell, he wants to kill him himself. A thing Eliot can’t let him do, because he knows what it will do to Nate and he doesn’t deserve that. And if Eliot does it now, he will save Nate that fate.

He should do it.

He should go back to that far away state where he didn’t really exist in this world and neither did his actions. He should pull the trigger and kill Dubenich. Protect Nate from becoming anything that is close to what Eliot is.

However, his hand is shaking and selfishly he disarms the gun instead of shooting it as he prays that Nate will be smart enough not to do what Eliot did.

As Eliot prayed, Nate does not kill someone. The two end up dead, but Nate is intelligent and he doesn’t need to get his hands dirty for the world to do as he wants. Doesn’t have to use brute force to bend it to his will. Doesn’t have to be stained like Eliot is. A part of him hates Nate a little for how easy it comes to him.

The team moves to Portland and Eliot follows without question. He would follow them anywhere, no questions asked.

The others probably know that, so Eliot is a little surprised at the Brewpub and state of the art kitchen Hardison has waiting for him. As if Eliot needs an insentive to stay, even as Nate and Sophie start to drift off and it becomes clearer and clearer that five are going to be three soon enough.

Eliot isn’t stupid enough not to see how Nate tests their abilities more and more. How they fill the gaps Nate and Sophie will leave. Can’t help but wonder why Nate think Eliot will ever be enough without them. Parker and Hardison are smart, but Eliot’s stupid might weigh them down. Wonders if Nate is assessing if he can handle it or if he’ll be a liability.

Fuck, Eliot doesn’t want to become a liability.

Nate and Sophie deserve a good retirement, so Eliot tries his hardest to prove that he’s good enough to be an asset. He takes all the hits that come his way, works on characters with Sophie and tries to think what Nate will do when a mark just won’t bend.

The most obvious move Nate makes is sending the three of them to DC for a small con, even Eliot can’t miss that one.

The con they’re there to run goes off without a hitch, but before they can skip town and avoid consequences for their crimes Eliot gets a Call. The capital is completely deserved there, because it’s the type of call he used to get before. Before the team, before his conscious, before the lives of others became valuable to him.

Eliot can’t ignore what is about to happen. Can’t ignore that someone is going to die today unless he does something about it. He is a good guy now. He protects others. It might be stupid, but he tells the others as much and they, maybe equally stupidly, trust him enough to come with to stop it.

A part of Eliot blames himself for not walking away when he had the chance, because what they uncover in the end is way bigger than any of them can handle. Eliot knows that, the second he sees who is on the hit list. And it becomes even more clear when Vance fills them in on what needs to be done.

Vance is a military man, who Eliot worked with between 21 and 23. Vance might have been older than him, but at the time Eliot had more experience than the other. Eliot went into wetwork, while Vance was smart enough to accept a suit position before his hands were so stained, he no longer felt the need to serve.

Eliot knows what Vance has done. Knows how smart the man is and how he uses it to get people together and dance to his tune. Knows that people die under Vance’s command, just like they’d done under Eliot’s.

Hardison and Parker cannot, under any circumstance, die. Eliot won’t let it happen.

However, Eliot also isn’t as bright as either of them and maybe he has grown soft with having people to fall back on. People who are so intelligent and who have the skill to get Eliot out of situations he can’t get himself out of. So, Eliot lets them stay.

With every new thing they uncover about what is happening in DC, Eliot regrets bringing the two with him, but sending them away is impossible. This needs to be stopped or they’ll be at risk anyway and Eliot knows this is beyond his own capabilities to stop. He punches problems, not solve those that are unpunchable.

But when Hardison panics, a small part of Eliot wants to validate that fear and get him to run and not look back. Get him to leave Eliot here while he can get out of harm’s way.

But at that point they know there is no getting out of harm’s way. They either stop it or are all in danger, no gray area to operate in.

So, Eliot is more open about his feelings than he has ever been before and tells Hardison how smart he is, how amazing his brain is and that he just needs Hardison to point him in the right direction so he can solve this problem in the way he knows well: with a good punch.

It is enough to calm Hardison. They both know this is how their team works. Hardison the brain, Eliot the punch and Parker with solutions to the problems they didn’t foresee.

He fears for her life, but god is he glad she is there with them. That she is smart enough to board the train, to bring that diamond to cut the glass, that she knows to keep Hardison safe, that she remembers how fire kills it.

Eliot doesn’t mind getting shot twice to keep them safe. He can take the punishment and he can protect the people who do the good, who are righting the world. He can aid in their struggle for justice, even if it will never cleanse him of his own sins.

The three of them work well together and he has no issue saying no to Vance when he asks. Nate will be leaving and these two will need someone to point in the right direction so he can punch the problems that are punchable.

It’s only when they get to their hotel that Eliot’s worldview comes crashing down yet again, much like it had back when he was 28. Now at 38, ten years later, it happens again and in a very different way.

After throwing away his crutch – which isn’t the smartest thing he has ever done, but not the dumbest either – Hardison and Parker have supported him all the way back to their room until he can collapse on one of the beds.

He is exhausted and glad to sit down. The other two are clearly still too wired from their day to even think of taking it easy, both still buzzing with excess energy, which they try to pour in fussing over Eliot.

On an abstract level Eliot appreciates their concern, but it’s quite unnecessary. He tells him as much and they ignore him after giving him a look.

Luckily, they ease up a little bit anyway and when they deem him cared for enough, they go back to poking and ribbing him. Parker is poking his shoulder, while Hardison sends him a smug look and says: “So, I’m the smartest man you know, E? I’m flattered.”

Eliot bats Parker’s hand away and plasters on his best grumpy expression. He can’t let Hardison know how high he has him in his mind, the other will become insufferable. No need to show any genuine emotions, he thinks as he grouches: “It’s all comparatively, Hardison. I never even graduated high school, not that hard to be smarter than me.”

Instead of gloating further, like Eliot expected, Hardison frowns, smug face gone, and asks: “What do you mean by that?”

Later Eliot will blame the blood loss, but in the moment, the question just catches him off guard and without meaning to, he replies: “We both know I ain’t smart, just ribbing you back a little.”

Hardison’s frown deepens and he says: “Eliot, you’re very smart, what are you on about, man?”

Next to him, Parker nods and repeats: “Very smart.”

Eliot meanwhile can only look at the two with, what must be, shock on his face. There was a time Eliot considered himself to be smart, but with hindsight he realizes he has made too many stupid decisions to ever be it. He has made peace with it. To hear from two of the smartest people he knows that they think he is smart is tilting his world.

Much to his horror, he can feel a flush overtaking his cheeks and he looks away as he tells them: “No need to lie to me. I’m a little hurt, not in distress. I can handle the truth, you know. I punch things, you guys just point me to who. I don’t mind. We all have our things.”

“Are you playing with me? Is this a joke?” Hardison asks, practically demands. “Eliot, you speak multiple language and are skilled in so many martial arts, not to mention all your culinary knowledge and frankly terrifying Rolodex of distinct features, sound etcetera. And your grifting manipulation skills.”

“Those all require smarts,” Parker adds. “And you are very tactical, good at coming up with exit strategies and plans of attack. That’s not easy either.”

Eliot blushes deeper under the praise, but waves it away in the end as he shrugs: “Those are just skills, both of you have basic criminal skills. I’m not a mastermind like you’re shaping up to be Parker or a literal genius. I’m just a guy who joined the army before getting out of high school.”

“You keep bringing up high school like that is a measurement of any form of intelligence instead of just if you can remember stuff,” Hardison says. “Not to mention that Parker never even went to high school and-”

“She’s street smart,” Eliot protests, because no one will insult Parker’s intelligence when he’s around, not even Hardison.

“I know,” Hardison rolls his eyes as Parker points out: “So are you.”

Before he can protest more, Hardison says something that shuts him up. “And – as I was saying – I also never graduated high school.”

“What?” Eliot can’t help but exclaim, never seeing that coming.

“Yeah, man,” Hardison shrugs like it’s nothing. “Me and school didn’t really jam and Nana could use extra money more than anything school could teach me. I dropped out to help, then never really looked back. Not like I needed a degree with my job.”

Eliot’s whole view is shattered like that. It isn’t like he didn’t know that high school wasn’t indicative of much, but a part of him assumed that those around him had more education than him, that his failure started there. But that internal bias has just been shaken up.

“What you do isn’t easy, E,” Hardison tells him intently as if to drive the point home, just in case Eliot missed it. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“I’ve always thought you were very smart too,” Parker agrees. “You know things, makes me feel safe that you’re there to help me find a way out. You think like me. We’re us. I like us being us together.”

And Eliot really hopes the blood loss is substantial enough that he can blame the moist eyes and choked up voice on it as he says: “Thanks, I- uhm, I’ll try to see it like that.”

“We’ll be here to remind you,” Parker informs him happily as she crawls into bed next to him and snuggles into his good shoulder.

“Yeah, man, we won’t let you forget you’re our own smart ass,” Hardison smiles as he sits on Eliot’s other side, letting their legs press together while being cautious of his injuries.

“You’re the smart ass,” Eliot ribs, aware that Hardison probably let him have that easy comeback so they could leave the emotional talk behind them if he wanted too.

“And still you put up with me,” Hardison says, letting his smile turn back into that smug little grin from before.

“Sadly,” Eliot grouches, but he doesn’t mean it and they all know it.

So, yeah, Eliot never graduated high school. He has made some stupid decisions in his life and lived the consequences, but he has learned from them too and picked up all sorts of skills that make him a smart hitter, who made it to 38 already.

Eliot hasn’t disappeared into a shallow grave before he could reach proper adulthood like so many around him have. Instead he found a family who want him there and make sure he has them to come home to, alive and well.

Quickly – quicker than they had any right to – they made themselves comfortable in his heart and he can’t be mad, because the work they do feels good and they all work well together, both as five and as three. They have found something they’re good in and they relish in it.

Nate and Sophie leaving when they do means that the others have to refind a balance. But they have been taught and mentored, given room to learn how to swim, before getting thrown in the deep end of the pool. So, they’re prepared to say goodbye when the moment comes.

And when they go, Eliot feels comfortable in promising that he will keep them safe till their dying day. That he has the skills and intelligence to keep Hardison and Parker alive until they all retire together. It took him a while to get here, but he is finally comfortable with who he is and what he can do. What he does.

Eliot is smart enough to run with the best thieves in the world that more than counts as being intelligent in his book. And it’s not like Hardison or Parker let him forget it, they’re stubborn like that.

#rr writing #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: self esteem issues #tw: voilence mention #eliot spencer #damien moreau #alec hardison #leverage parker #nathan ford #nate ford #sophie devereaux #leverage fic #leverage #leverage tv

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tony-andonuts · 2 years ago

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I slightly changed the base plot for my dip fic idea to fit the plot of BLU better 😳😳😳

Also could just be headcanons too but:

Pip was at the pond while Stans gang was telling everyone about the movie, and Damien was sitting next to Stans gang when all the kids went to see the movie (canon). So Pip notices that Damien hasnt showed up to school since they all went and watched it, and decides to check the theater. And then the true part of the fic begins

#i just gotta finish this pip x pete chapter before i can move on to this #shut up tony #south park #pip pirrup #phillip pirrup #sp dip #not tagging damien only because theres 2 brief mentions of him #and the fic is pip centric as of rn

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year ago

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I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

#anxious answers #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batboys #yandere dc concept #yandere batboys concept #yandere concept

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misssilversunny · 10 days ago

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Ok so I've been on a bit of a Yandere batfam binge tbh. One thing I saw was someone saying that there should be a yandere batfam that's too interested in Reader's life, as opposed to the multitude of neglected Readers.

I would like to build on that and say, a Spoiled!Reader. Maybe around grade school age for some of the story, the rest being them as an adult realizing that their family's "interest" in every aspect of their life was nowhere near healthy. Or it could be a crack fic where Reader is guarded like the president of the world.

For example, as a child, they applied themselves to everything, wanting to be as smart as their older siblings, and followed Alfred around all the time when they found out that he was a spy in his early days.

Every award was put on a shelf, every drawing was fridge worthy, to the point where they got a corkboard to put all their drawings, and whenever they wanted something, they got it. Bullies never got more than a week of fun before an injury befell their parents or some other misfortune. Bruce was almost constantly seen with them.

Timeskip to maybe their 20s, they're trying to hold down a long term relationship after so many ended up with their partners becoming distant before either they broke things off or Reader left them. Every batchild is using their own connections to try and keep possible suitors away.

Reader laments their lack of freedom and privacy to their friends, leading to the common "Tells people about a funny memory. Why are they looking at me like that"

Apparently, while it's normal for a brother to offer if their younger sibling has noone to take to the dance, saying that they should go instead of a proper date is not. Family members should not be dressing you like a doll past age 6 (The girls + Alfred + Dick all love putting outfits together for reader, saying that they're just made to be dressed up.).

Your parents shouldn't be physically intimidating and scaring off every partner, and definitely shouldn't be saying that you shouldn't look for a partner as long as you have them. Your family shouldn't "joke" about how friends are fine since "they're seldom as permanent as family".

Reader slowly realizes that they need to get out, fast. But instead of it being a struggle for the Batfam to find them because they know next to nothing, it's a fight to do something they couldn't predict because they've all been watching them like hawks since they set foot inside the manor.

Most, if not all of their friends outside of the group that convinced them to run are friends with at least one family member, so 60-90% of their social net has been gutted. They can't use their legal name while they live in Gotham, but they need a job to get the money to leave.

I think Damien being the biggest yandere would be really funny, especially if you read it like Lance Crown is with his sister. Bro has multiple lockets with photos of them throughout the years in them, as well as a photo for every single birthday he was present for.

In Damien's eyes, Reader's primary title is "Damien's Little Sibling" and is willing to deal with the shared titles that must come with that (Dick's Little Sibling, Bruce's Child, Alfred's Ward, etc). If you want to have the honor of bestowing Another Title upon Reader, Damien has to give the go ahead first. He will never give the go ahead.

Jason would also be super protective, since he was around when they were still learning to talk and walk. He comes into the living room and Alfred's got Reader on a blanket with some toys and upon seeing him, Reader wobbles to their feet and stumbles over to him, squealing in delight and almost falling over before grabbing onto his leg and smiling up at him.

It was at that moment, the Reader fan club was truly established. Bruce would be the leader since he was the dad, but Damien was second in command and manages the collections of information/photos.

AN: I have no clue about the lore/timeline the Batfamily has. If something mentioned couldn't have happened during a certain point of time, then I'm sorry lol.

#yandere batfam #yandere batboys #yandere batfam x reader #tw yandere

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ladyelissarose · 2 years ago

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I love your fics! Can i please have a Miguel O'hara x Fem Reader where she bumps into a abusive ex and she gets scared/uncomfortable. So Miguel being the protective and territorial person he is steps in and handles the situation (maybe even fights the guy), and Miguel gets all sappy and soft letting her know he loves her and will protect her always. Fluff plzUwU

‘Protector’

Miguel O’Hara x girlfriend reader

Warnings; 4k!! mentions of abusive ex, sad flashbacks that involve some violence. Like *Choking and screaming* Little bit of angst, panic attacks mentioned too. But I squeezed in more fluff than y’all can imagine! Please be careful with what you want to read. Enjoy

Summary; after not being in a relationship for over a few months, you start to try again with an adorable scientist, Miguel O’Hara. Overall he seems very sweet and kind at the start of your growing relationship, but you can’t help but worry he might be like you ex. Until one day he proves to be the total opposite.

Author’s note: Hiiii love!!! Thank you for this request!! I’m so happy I got one! So I hope this meets your expectations, let me know :) much love and hugs!!

Diing Diing!

The clanking bells alarmed you that a customer had just walked into the large 3-story library you work at in New York City. A smile went up your face as you waved and greeted a couple of college girls who passed by with smiles and their little coffees.

This library in particular was special to you, it had a great view of the magnificent city, many customers came by and 99% of the time found what they needed, it was a place of a new fresh start after leaving an abusive relationship, and better than all of those things aforementioned, it was the place where you found Miguel O’Hara, your new boyfriend.

Miguel was a scientist, he worked at Alchemax and came by often to the library to retrieve books he needed for his job. He was always a regular customer as your boss had mentioned, but he said he came by more often when you started working there everyday.

Which was true, you saw him very often, maybe 8 times in a span of 5 days, he walked in and out with a new scientific book or one about chemicals, and you’d be the one to check them out.

It wasn’t hard to miss him when he walked in, he had a broad form and looked very different from the rest- oh and he always wore that white coat that made his arms bulge out more than they should, and really shape his V back perfectly.

Every time his curly jet black hair was always combed back with his calloused fingers as he would approach the front desk and ask you how your day was, even if you had seen him earlier that morning.

Flashback-

“Hi! I-uh.. came to get these checked out... how’s your day been- like so far?”

You beamed a smile at his sorta shyness, which wasn’t normal for him. He wasn’t particularly hyper and such, but his speech was always confidently spoken. Nonetheless you took the 1000 paged book about Chemistry and scanned it while responding,

“It’s been a little busier, now that college started for the kiddos, they’ve been in and out of here like crazy. But overall good.”

His warm brown eyes hadn’t met yours as one of his hands were stuffed in his pockets and the other inched for the book in your hand, but he smiled and replied,

“Oh that’s nice, just don’t.. uh overwork yourself corazo- ma’am.”

You giggled while putting the book in its paper bag while suggesting,

“You can call me corazen- Is that how you say it?”

Miguel finally let his eyes look at you and you could see he held a slight uncertainty, but he did correct you kindly,

“It’s corazon.. i-it means ‘heart’.”

‘Awww... that’s so sweet... Damien would have never said that.’

Warmth filled your insides and you could’ve bet a million dollars that your cheeks were beet red, it wasn’t a doubt you found this mountain of a man absolutely adorable like a puppy, and extremely hot. You slid the book in a paper bag towards him carefully and added,

“Well thank you for correcting me-“

You then read his tag and went on,

“Dr.O’Hara... would you like anything else?”

For a second time his eyes locked on yours, and he took a deep breath before rapidly taking out his hand out from his pocket. You gasped lowly and flinched back at the action, your eyes wide. But Miguel caught your action and felt guilty for scaring you, and comforted you immediately with his words,

“Sorry! Umm.. ay coño.. just call me Miguel.. and.. would you like to go out at some time?”

You were now a couple feet away from the desk, but when you saw the little paper he had put out on top, you slowly came back.

A frown made a small line between his eyebrows, you too felt back for scaring away, but you couldn’t help but have that kind of reflex to certain gestures. You couldn’t meet his eyes after what you did, but his gentle voice gave you a slight confirmation that it was ok,

“Corazon?... it’s ok if you can’t-“

“I can! Yes.. yes... I’m sorry-“

“Please don’t be.. it was me that was weird then-“

“You’re not weird I swear... I was the one that acted dramatically-“

“You’re perfect.. I swear that you are.”

Honesty and adoration was read all over him, something you’ve never seen in another man but could detect. With a warm smile you made the move to agree with him, though you were hoping he was right.

“Ok...”

Miguel first smiled then wore a frown with a question,

“Ok.. as in the date or-“

You quickly quipped,

“Is it too much to ask for both?”

With a shake to his head Miguel tapped the table and took his bag,

“For you? Not at all corazon.. at 6 tomorrow.. because you clock out at 5 right?”

In surprise at how he knew when you got off of work had you smiling a bit brighter, as you couldn’t remember the last time someone remembered something so small about you.

“Yes! Ah.. thanks for noticing, and giving me time.”

With a wink and a last wave Miguel sweetly promised,

“You’re worth all my time.”

End of flashback-

You never thought that being 6 months into your new relationship would be leading after that first date with Miguel.

And you have never been happier than ever. He was the absolute most gentle person ever, he never lifted his voice and was calm in every situation. He was the total opposite of what you dragged yourself into with your last relationship... which was toxic and abusive.

Damien was the asshole’s name, and with him, degrading words were always shouted at you, new bruises would appear around your wrists or neck every time he got angry, your lipstick was never smeared from being kissed and loved... instead your mascara was always messed up and painted teary lines down your cheeks.

You’d flinch when a voice was raised higher than normal or you’d panic for a second at someone moving too fast towards you. As in the past Damien would scream at you endlessly and out of no where sprint towards you to lay his hands on you to hurt you. But now as you had run away from him and started a whole new life far away- as so you thought.

You worked hard to be more normal and confident, and read people and understand that some moved the same way but had different actions and intentions behind them.

Like when Miguel would reach suddenly to brush your hair behind your ear, you had to learn that he was caring for you, and not going to choke you. Or when he’d come from behind you to hug you, day by day you grew to accept how he was loving on you and not going to drag you away to hurt you.

So little things like that, you were trying to give a chance to think differently of, so you could heal. And to not say the least, but Miguel had seen the trauma you were in from when you first dated, he had seen and heard how you asked for reassurance on everything you did, and even apologized your heart out when you accidentally laughed a little louder at a funny moment, or when a drop of coffee landed on his shirt, face filled with dread and worry at what he’d say or do to you.

But ever sense that night, Miguel swore on his life that he’d never let you go, and that he’d protect you forever from whoever would want to cause you harm. And he also knew, that if he ever ran into your ex, it’d be the last time he ever did.

—————-

Diiiin Diiing!!

The library was already close to closing time, so when you heard the ding, you called out to let them know,

“Hi! Welcome to-“

In horror you dropped the books you were holding, letting them crash onto the floor and even allowing the hard cover book land on its corner onto your foot. The day you hoped would never come, finally came.

In all his wicked glory, stood your ex, Damien, at your counter. With an erratic heartbeat and shaky hands you moved down to the floor to pick up the books, feeling like the helpless little girl you were when he had you. Fear wasn’t enough to describe what had you losing your breath and movement, as venom came out of his mouth.

“Wow.. even after all this time your still a clumsy bitch huh? Pathetic.”

Words cut sharp like knives at your heart and you could feel how deep into your gut that tossed stone of words went. Instantly it was like if you went to robotic mode with him, like if he had control over you. His black eyes bore into your now glossy eyes as you fixed the books on the counter and replied with a stutter,

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it- it was an accident-“

“An accident like how you dropped your coffee on my shoes or how you step on my brand new shoes at your cousins wedding? You’re an accident. A mistake- like how’d you even get the job?”

Shrugging slowly was all you could muster, words hanging in your throat. But a harsh slam of his hand hitting against the counter had you jump and responding verbally,

“I-I’m not sure.. my boss thinks I’m efficient and qu-quick.”

And in that moment you had a very quick slip up in your mind, making you scold yourself and remember Miguel’s words, which were honest and uplifting,

‘Don’t be weak!! Remember what Miguel said- Never let anyone tell you you’re not good enough at what you do. You’re perfect and strong, stand up for it.’

You then took a deep breath and said forwardly,

“I’m good enough for this. So just- just please leave me alone.”

A dry laugh met your ears along with more degrading words,

“You’ll never get it huh? No matter what you do without me you’ll never be good enough. I gave you power-“

He gave you the power of fear, fearing all the time, the power of tears, that you cried every night after a scandal he put up. So you worded confidently,

“No you didn’t. You were toxic and abusive. The only power you gave me was to fear you.. but that’s over. Now go-“

You tired really tried your best to stand strong, but it didn’t work out well and it opened old wounds when he dared to raise his voice and slam his hand on the counter again,

Bam!!

“TOXIC?! Wow! Look at you calling the kettle black little girl. You see, you were the toxic one for always disobeying me and saying ‘no’. You were toxic for not letting me love you like I wanted to- I TRIED OK? I did! That you didn’t like rough and all was your little immature and weakling problem, but that’s what happens when you don’t play nice with your daddy.”

Internally you bled as he slashed you open with every word and movement, making you feel less and less like the person you had become.

Miguel’s words fading in your mind as Damien added a new one and went on like a broken record. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you let it out as a gasp when he slammed his hand again and demanded your attention,

“HEY! Aren’t you listening?! Do I have to hit the side of your head so it clicks? Don’t you remember how well that method worked?!”

Diiiing Diiiing!!

Miguel had just walked in with your favorite dinner meal from the coffee shop near by, carrying his on the other hand so he could join you for his little break too.

Just as you had dropped your stuff in fear, so did he.. but he felt a deep concern instead. He witnessed a man half his size tower over the counter and lean towards you with an accusing finger, shoulders visibly moving in aggression.

But what choked his air was your face- oh god how he hated the look of fear on you, it was as if death was standing before you. Miguel immediately walked up and called out to you first, not wanting to scare the man and cause more to happen, as he didn’t know what was up with him.

“Amor? What’s going on?”

The man whipped his head towards Miguel and only smirked at him and said to him while still staring deeply,

“Sir you’ll have to come back later-“

Huffing in disbelief at this guy’s audacity, Miguel turned his attention back to you and saw tears coming down your eyes, making him ask right away,

“Amor, what did he do to you?”

Blocking you with his body Damien bit,

“Why are you assuming I did something wrong?”

At seeing your teary eyes and wet cheeks, Miguel instantly grew defensive and very angry at the man that stood in front of you being an asshole. Miguel knew by his tone that he had probably done something to you, and that only made him more furious... until it clicked for him, who he was.

‘That’s the bitch.. Damien. Mierda.. your so going to wish you never walked in here.’

With an authoritative voice Miguel called out to you,

“Go to the back, and don’t come out.”

He wouldn’t want you to see the ugly side of him that came out when he defended those he’d kill for. He wouldn’t want you to accidentally translate his harshness towards enemies as that he could probably hurt you too with those same hands. No, he o my wanted you to see and know that his hands would only show love and care to you.

So you taking the chance that you knew Miguel wouldn’t dare let Damien come after you, you ran to the back immediately and didn’t look back. Knowing you’d probably pass out from seeing more of the monster that hurt you so much.

———

Miguel back up front then cracked his knuckles and threatened,

“And you, step away from the counter-“

“Why should I? I haven’t done anything to her-“

“And you won’t, ever again. Now I suggest you go and leave her alone-“

“And what are you going to do if I don’t huh? You think I’m scared-“

“Que idiota... You will be. The only fighting you know is how to hit women... try hitting me. I dare you.”

Thinking Miguel wouldn’t try anything, as he was a much larger man, Damien stupidly went at him. But being Spider-Man in disguise had its perks to self defense and fighting skills. So reaching close enough to him, Miguel then side stepped and watched Damien fall forward, hence letting him catch his back collar and slam him to the ground.

Breath knocked out of his lungs at the single action had Damien laying on the ground trying to catch air, but Miguel refused it to him when he hovered over him and held onto his neck tightly with one hand, constricting the airway.

“Thought you liked choking? And pain?”

Damien’s face turned red and Miguel’s heart pinched at the thought of his love and life being in this painful position, because of this low life monster under him. It only made him growl and add to the fire and squeeze harder, not caring about how Damien silently cried for release,

“Hm? Hijo de puta.. vete al carajo... and never come back. If not I’ll make sure you never do.”

And with that Miguel slammed his back one last time to the ground, ignoring the small crack he heard, and then got up, lastly spitting out in a loud voice,

“Now get the hell out! I don’t want to see you around her ever again!!”

Like a cowered dog Damien scurried away, running out the door and going far off, not caring about the weird looks people gave him for how crazy and scared he looked.

Miguel didn’t give him a second thought before darting towards the back room to get you. When he approached the door he knew it’d be locked, so he knocked gently and called out,

“Amor? It’s me.. Miguel. Can you open up?”

Sniffles and hard gasps were heard on the other side, causing him to freak out a bit and call to you again,

“Baby it’s ok. Amor I’m here and it’s safe-“

“I-Is he gone??”

Miguel could hear your short breaths between words and he could feel it in his gut that you were hitting panic mode. So as soft as possible he tried to tell you,

“Yes amor.. he’s gone. I promise, open the door por favor.. I want to see you.”

Silence filled the room a bit. It he then heard the smallest-

click!

As always Miguel never degraded you but instead praised you, even for the smallest things, like unlocking the door.

“Gracias amor, good job baby.”

Slowly he opened it and his heart ripped apart at the sight of your cowered form in the corner of the closet, breath hitching and your small hands trying to wipe away the large tears that rained down on your stained cheeks. With his arms opened to you Miguel did his best to word out everything and let you know what he’d do beforehand,

“Ok amor, I’m going to come to walk to you... can I touch you-“

Your hand inched for him as you whimpered,

“I can- I can’t breathe. hel-p me.”

Hearing you hiccuping for air had Miguel grabbing your face gently, pulling you towards him slowly as he tried to talk you through it to calm you down,

“You’re ok amor. Respira.”

His hand laid on your heart as he led yours to lay on his, he wanted you to work on matching your breathing with is. His other hand held the back of your neck gently and leaned your forehead on his as he went on praising and comforting,

“Just like that amor, breathe. You’re doing so well-“

“I feel so sc-scared.. like if it’s all in my throat-“

“I know amor-“

“I didn’t know what to-to do-“

“It’s not your fault-“

You tried to push away and bury yourself in dark thoughts of untruth,

“But it is! I let him... how could you lo-love someone like me that folds- Mmph!!”

Miguel wouldn’t have it, he loved you too much to let you drown in hurtful thoughts, so to silence your head and words, he had pulled you in for a deep kiss.

Instantly it had helped you stopped thinking crap about yourself and doubt everything with Miguel, and it helped you calm your breathing as you felt him move his lips against yours softly yet firmly. Your hands wrapped around his neck and brought him back closer to you, not wanting to let go. Miguel then pulled away, but only enough to mumble coherently,

“I love you *kiss* and you’re safe *kiss* I won’t hurt you *kissssss* I got you amor *kiss kiss* I’m not going anywhere without you *kiss*.”

The kisses in between confirmations had calmed you down right away, feeling his hands embrace you and run over your arms and waist gently had got you to stop fidgeting as well. With a one last kiss to your head, Miguel slowly stood up, helping you stand as his arms wrapped around you, he then suggested to you,

“Let’s go home amor, c’mere. Tomorrow’s your day off anyways and we can get up late to and rest.”

You were about to walk out in hand with him, but Miguel had different plans as he was feeling still protective over you and wanted you close. He crouched down a bit and worded,

“Jump and wrap your legs around me-“

“Mig-“

“It’s ok amor, don’t worry about anything.. I got you.”

No more doubt rested in you at the thought of him carrying you, so you gladly accepted and jumped in his arms. You looked small in his arms, but you felt so safe and secure as one of his large arms held you up. He grabbed your bags of food and let you hold them as he helped you clock out and lock up.

Your head rested in his neck as your arms wrapped around him, when he had taken off his coat to drape over you. He didn’t mind to walk you home to your apartment that was two blocks away, as long as you were with him he was content.

Once home you both ate comfortably and soon were cuddling in bed, Miguel the whole time held you close and promised to keep you safe, letting you know that you’d never see your ex again, and when you asked how that would be possible, he stated,

“Just let me take care of it Amor... you’ll be ok. Now rest baby.. I’ll be here with you in the morning.. I texted my boss that I won’t be coming in. So sleep amor.”

You lifted your head off his chest and pecked his lips as you thanked him,

“Thank you... for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

Miguel held your cheek and insisted,

“You deserve all of me and more.. and I’ll remind you everyday until you believe it.”

He kissed away your tears and kissed you once more as you nodded,

“Ok... I love you.”

“I love you so much more. Te voy a amar... por siempre.”

And with that you had passed out in his arms, cuddled close to his chest, your heart beats synchronizing as one.

Miguel made sure you had passed out deeply, before sliding out of bed and kissing you back to sleep as he covered you completely and made sure you were ok, before leaving the place. He had a promise to keep, and he intended to do it as fast as possible.

—————-

“He’s yours.”

Officer Jefferson Davis looked at Miguel with a frown as he saw the beat up Damien in who he knew as Spider-Man 2099’s hands. Jefferson grabbed Damien and asked,

“Well what did this punching bag do?”

Damien cried pathetically as he tried to reach for Miguel,

“He’s crazy! I didn’t do anything! Aren’t you supposed to fight villains and not civilians?!?”

Miguel stood tall and interrupted him,

“You harassed the library lady today, and threatened to hurt her. Villains hurt people.. and you like to hurt women.. so that makes you a villain. And I’m not going to let that happen.”

Jefferson nodded his head in agreement and replied to Spider-Man,

“That’s good enough to lock him up for a while-“

He then pulled Damien towards an Officer as he added,

“-you look like the kind of loser that pulls those stunts- damn my wife would beat your ass. Get him in cuffs and to the station. He doesn’t deserve a hospital-“

“But I think he broke my arms!-“

Jefferson rolled his eyes and huffed,

“Good! Now you’ll have another reason why to not hit women!”

Once he was dragged away, he went to thank Spider-Man,

“I appreciate this. It’s hard to catch these guys sometimes, but I’m glad you keep an eye out for them and for the community.”

Shaking his hand Miguel responded,

“It’s not a problem.. just.. just keep in him there for the longest time you can.”

Jefferson understood without needing more, so he promised,

“I’ll make sure of that. Now I need to go make sure that happens-“

With a salute Miguel bid,

“You do that Sir. Have a goodnight.”

Saluting back Jefferson smiled,

“You too Spider-Man.”

Back at home, and in your arms, Miguel smiled to himself at seeing your peaceful self, knowing you wouldn’t be hurt by Damien ever again. Softly he placed a kiss on your cheek and whispered,

“He won’t hurt you again.. te amo.”

Now he held you close to him and soon fell asleep to the sound of your breathing and warmth against him. Both of you sleeping soundly in peace and security.

Spanish translations:

Corazon- heart

Te voy a amar por siempre- I’ll love you forever

Que idiota- what an idiot

Hijo de puta- son of a bitch

Vete al carajo- go to hell

Respira- breathe

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x reader fluff #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #asks answered #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel o’hara fluff #spiderman 2099 #spiderman into the spiderverse

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mycroftirl · 2 months ago

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It's been nearly a year and I'm still losing it over having Mark tell Damien "You should have wanted it more." when I was writing chapter 3 of Choking on their Halos

me at writing rn

#only mentioning that fic because I'm once again writing Damien's suicide attempt

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ofmdrecaps · 8 days ago

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11/23-26/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Con O'Neill; Nathan Foad; Kristian Nairn; Samson Kayo; Brian Gattas & Connor Barrett; Damien Gerard; Articles; Fan Spotlight: TinyCrewBigDonations; NeverLeftPodcast; OFMD Advent Calendar; Love Notes

= David Jenkins =

David was out on Christmas Eve getting a tattoo in honor of his new baby Zosia and Kinga!

Source: David Jenkins Instagram

Also, in case you haven't seen yet, David has been writing some OFMD Fanfiction, or a Christmas Special since Christmas Eve on his Bluesky. Due to it spanning multiple days, and me not knowing when I'll get the next recap out, I'm putting in as much as I can now.

Source: David Jenkins Bluesky

= Rhys Darby =

Rhys spent the holidays in Aotearoa with the family!

Source: Rosie's IG

Another trailer for Badjelly!

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A post shared by Badjelly (@badjellytv)

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Source: BadJellyTV

= Taika Waititi =

Taika also happened to be in Aotearoa for the holidays!

Source: VasJMorgan's Instagram / Mariana Vivanco's Instagram

= Con O'Neill =

Con had a beautiful message for everyone <3

Source: Con O'Neill's Instagram

= Nathan Foad =

Nathan's voiceover agents had fun doodling their clients! Can you find Nathan?

Source: Nathan's Instagram Stories

= Kristian Nairn =

Kristian is sending some updates on his new Spectrum playlists, Cameo's and orders from his website! Lots of love coming from our beloved Wee John <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

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Source: Kristian's Instagram

= Samson Kayo =

Samson got into the holiday spirit and sent a Merry Christmas to all!

Source: Samson's Instagram Stories

= Brian Gattas & Connor Barrett =

Hornberry and Siegfried wish you a silly Happy Holidays!

Source: Brian Gattas' Instagram Stories

= Damien Gerard =

More updates on where Damien is online now!

Instagram / Bsky

And a sweet holiday message from him!

Source: Damien's Bsky / Damien's bsky

== Articles ==

Thank you to our dear friends over at @adoptourcrew for ore articles featuring OFMD!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

== Fan Spotlight ==

= OFMD Buys Boats =

Last on the list for the Tiny Crew Big Raffle Donations was: World Central Kitchen - David Jenkins - $US 1,779.07, £278.69, €611.91, CAD$82.81! Well done all! I ran out of images in this recap, but the next will feature all the awesome BTS Lindsey Cantrell shared with the @ofmd-buys-boats and the rest of the crew for everyone's generosity!

Source: OFMD Buys Boats Instagram

= Never Left Podcast =

Never Left Podcast's latest episode is about Fan Fic! Check it out on their linktr.ee!

Source: Never Left Instagram

= OFMD Advent Calendar =

The OFMD Advent Calendar has come to an end, and the kind @tillychmo gave everyone some lovely treats for the last two! Including Cameos from the crew! Thank you so much dear for highlighting so many amazing artists and writers this holiday season, and spreading joy and love from our cast! You're the best!

The 24th Door features @tillychmo's artwork! A very cute piece with the full revenge crew and more!

The 25th Door has cameos from some of our awesome Cast! Damien Gerard, Erroll Shand, Ruibo Qian! Wow! What a surprise! Check it out on Bluesky / AO3!

Source: OFMD Advent Calendar

== Love Notes ==

Well Lovelies, we're coming to the end of the year here. As I write this, it's New Year's Eve. I ended up being really sick for several days so I couldn't finish these on time (so sorry for the jump scare, I legit thought I'd be gone for a long while after two docs told me what they thought it was-- but luckily, no surgery for me). I'll try to be getting the last couple of the year out tomorrow if I can <3 I did want to mention, I know the David Jenkins fanfic/OFMD Christmas special is causing a bit of contention out there. Some folks are worried it's S3, and are either upset because it doesn't meet what they were expecting so far, or worried that because it's there, we're not getting an s3 at all. These are all valid concerns! For me, I like to think of what David's doing as a little gift to keep our hope alive. Whatever reason-- whatever comes of it, David cares so much about us that he's keeping us all engaged this late into the year. How many creators can we say do that for their fandom (let alone with a newborn)? Did you feel that same tingly feeling I did as we got more and more updates? It felt like watching an episode of OFMD again, for the first time, not knowing where it was going. It was a roller coaster ride of emotions, and as usual David is perfect with timing of specific revelations for maximum affect. We get to interact with him and all of our crewmates in the wee hours of 2024, and feel that same love and excitement that brought us together in the first place-- and I really do think that's such a wonderful gift. Seeing so many folks get excited, and brains firing off a mile a minute on new meta and new headcanons has been wonderful to watch. Whatever happens, whatever comes of it, we are getting to feel that unexpected excitement again. That little flutter of uncertainty-- that spark of joy and hope. So don't despair okay? Whatever happens, we still have our S1, and S2, and we still have each other-- and if we get an s3 out of all this too-- great! Whatever happens, we still have this insanely talented, and kind, and breathtakingly creative crew, and I am so very grateful for each and every one of you. OFMD changed my life for the better. You all changed my life for the better. You all changed SO MANY lives for the better, just by being you and sharing your love of this brilliant show. OFMD is the gift that keeps on giving, and I'm grateful David's trying to give us a bit more to play with for now, to do with as we will. Happy Holidays Lovelies and Happy New Year. May you get the rest and love you deserve, and all the things you desire this year.

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Source: The Latest Kate's Instagram

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queenie-the-court-jester · 10 months ago

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If there will be a part two for yandere online friend, once I found out im pregnant, I will cause a miscarriage on purpose and blame him for the lying, the cheating, the drugs, EVERYTHING. Tormenting him for his betrayal, because it’s not fair that he messed around with another girl while I was there for him when his own family wasn’t.

(I know i was aware high school love wasn’t gonna last but i love being petty and holding on grudges brings me joy.) 🥰💅

you're more fucked up than me dawg 😭 but at the same time it's understandable?? In a way?? But then again that isn't any better than the yandere... This will be the first, and last darkfic I will ever write

Tw: self abortion, guilt tripping, toxic relationship, mentioned non-con, this whole fic is a warning in itself, self harming, suicide. readers be warned,dead dove do not eat

🥀no no NO! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS!? WHY WOULD YOU RUIN EVERYTHING HE WAS SO CLOSE TO ACCOMPLISHING?? you were supposed to love the baby.. all in all, he goes into hysteria when he sees you on the floor of the bathroom. Blood all over the tiles and toilet

💔calling 911 and breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably as they load you onto the stretcher and go to the hospital. When you wake up, he expected you to call the police or scream for help. But you just.. stared at him? No emotion..

🥀you stayed in the hospital for a week, he stuck to your side like glue. The nurses always commented on how much of a loyal boyfriend you had, but they were met with silence. It unnerved them a bit but they just brushed it off as you processing the miscarriage

💔when Damien took you back to his house, he boarded up the windows and doors. Adding multiple locks all while looking like he was hyperventilating. Images of you bleeding flashing through his head. the doctors said it was a miracle they even managed to save you

🥀he froze when he finally heard you speak for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"this is all your fault. You did this to me."

"d-darling please! Let's not go there.."

"you're a worthless pathetic bastard. I hate you."

💔he slowly goes back into his old destructive habits, cutting his arms and smashing solid objects against his thigh or legs. Making himself feel the pain you must've felt, always crawling back to you. Bloody and bruised, begging to be forgiven

🥀he starts making up stories. Saying the girl pushed herself onto him, or he wasn't thinking straight when it happened. He'd be so unstable you could even manage to get him to off himself if you pushed him farther, taking his money and leaving his bloody corpse in the shitty house he called a home. Did he seriously expect to raise a family here? Pfft, what a weirdo..

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writeforthepeople · 2 months ago

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Heyy! I've been thinking about Damien and the reader being in a YouTube short film together playing as a married couple and as filming goes on they find themselves actually falling for each other 😩😩 specifically a scene where they're lying in bed together and have to face each other all closely and they're staring into each other's eyes all soft UGHH anyways! I would love if you could write a lil fic like that 🥹🫶 even if you don't end up writing it ty for reading this req!

Absolutely LOVE this idea. The UGHH says it alllllll. Summary: You are cast in a short film your friend Amanda is working on and you are playing Damien's love interest! While you always strive to be as professional as possible, the acting feels a bit too real...and maybe it is?

Warning: No smut, slow burn. Word Count: 4k ... I might have gotten carried away with this one.

You woke up to an early alarm, you had to wake up earlier than usual to start getting ready for your first day on a new set. Your friend Amanda was making her first short film and decided to cast you, of course, you were excited to work on the project because you love her, but you would have been willing to do any part of the project to help. You getting cast as the love interest to the main character certainly gave you a confidence boost though. Nerve racking? Sure! but exciting none the less.

You continued going over the script for what must have been the 10th time as you finished getting ready this morning. It was a romantic comedy about the main character, Gideon Hale who is able to see ghosts. He makes a living running a small bed and breakfast, but on the side he is a bit of an 'Afterlife Coach' (the name of the film) where he coaches ghosts on getting through the afterlife. He meets an old friend (you) who is back in town after many years for a mutual friends wedding. The story focuses on his journey helping the ghosts around him and getting to know you and falling in love. You were a little nervous for a few of the more romantic scenes, but it is nothing you haven't done before. You've been in many plays and projects where you have had to kiss or be romantic with a partner. This one felt different though, you had met Damien a few times through Amanda and somehow knowing him made it feel a bit awkward. Not to mention the fact that you thought he was incredibly attractive, but that would only help the acting be easier, right? It didn't take long to get to the filming location, Smosh had offered to let Amanda use some of their space for filming. When you walked in you were immediately greeted by Erin, the set coordinator. We chatted for a few moments before she brought me to the set Amanda was working on. You were blown away with all the effort that had gone into really making the set look like a bed and breakfast. There was a lobby, a kitchen, and a bedroom plotted out for various scenes. "Y/N!! You're here!" you heard Amanda's familiar voice yell out as she made her way over to you. She was beaming, and it made you smile. "I'm here and ready to work!" you said, giving her a quick hug. "I hope you are here and ready to fall in love because we are about to make magic" She laughed, but you knew there would be more jokes to come on that front. You looked around and didn't see Damien yet but you noticed several other familiar faces from Amanda's parties. It looked like Angela was running the show, directing and moving people about. You think to your self, this must be the most serious you've ever seen her.

"Damien is wrapping in hair and make-up, he has a few scenes to shoot before you enter so once he is done you're next in the chair!" Amanda talked as she led you to the small room right off the stage. "Hey Trina, this is Y/N, she's up after my little star here" he pointed to Damien, waving her finger around in a funny gesture. She walked off without saying anything else. "Hi Y/N, you can take a seat we are almost done here" Trina said and Damien smiled "How are you feeling?" he asked you politely "I'm good, a bit nervous but I am excited" you admitted, trying to hold back your surprise. His hair was different. Last you had seen him his hair was getting long, but was distinctly dyed a silvery white, but the man sitting in the chair has more of a slick backed 90's look and was dyed completely black. "How about you?" you asked, not mentioning the hair. "I'm good" he said not moving his head as Trina added hair spray and tapped him on the shoulder "You are set" she she smiled and turned back to her kit. You watched as Damien examined his look and quickly turned to you "I've never had black hair, how does it look" it was as if he was scanning your features for an answer. You shook your head "it suits you. I like it a lot" you admitted, your cheeks a bit red. "Did you dye it just for the role?" you follow up with and he smiled and nodded "It felt very Gideon" he said with a chuckle "plus Amanda had a vision and who was I to say no to that?" he added. "Well hopefully I don't have to dye mine, but anything for Amanda right?" you smiled.

"Luckily your hair just needs styled" Trina chimes in. "You ready to hop in the chair?" she asked and you nodded, standing up. "Well I will see you out there" Damien said, leaving the room with a wave. "What a nice boy" Trina said after he left and you nodded "he's really sweet" you agreed. "So, you are the love interest huh?" she turned you to the mirror and talked through a bit of Amanda's vision and you got started. You didn't need anything to crazy, she was going to style your hair and put on some make up and take you over to wardrobe. After you were ready, you headed to the set and took a seat in the corner to watch the scene they were filming. Damien was speaking to a ghost played by Tommy, helping them understand that he has options in the afterlife. Amanda came over after they cut and asked if you were ready. You oddly weren't, your nerves were high but you shook out your hands and planned to fake it til you make it. She led you to the scene in the lobby of the bed and breakfast Damien's character, Gideon, owned. You stepped to your marker and looked to Damien, who was reading the script once before the scene and you smiled to yourself, thinking about how cute his thinking face was. You shook out your hands again, you needed to shake any thoughts like those away.

"Ok" Amanda starts "Damien, Gideon is prepping for two arrivals he has today, both are high school acquaintances in town for your friend Aprils wedding. You are feeling uncomfortable, knowing you will have to make a lot of small talk and feel a need to be more entertaining than with any standard guests" she said, nodding but speaking again before he can talk at all. "Y/N, Gwen is nervous about being back in town. Not only is she having feelings about her close friend getting married and starting 'the rest of her life' " the ending she added finger quotes "but Gwen is also feeling inadequate, not being as advanced in her career as she thought she'd be by now, knowing she'll have tons of people asking about it all weekend." I nod to her "I don't want to give too many notes upfront, lets just vibe" she said and you chuckled. That is so like her.

"Action" she said before taking a seat. You begin walking up to Damien, a smile appearing on his face, it looked so genuine. "Hi, I'm uh checking in under Henry, Gwen Henry" as you reached the counter. "I know exactly who you are" he responded. "I'm Gideon, we had 11th grade history together" he spoke, checking you in. "Of course! Gideon, wow, you look great man. I didn't know you worked here" you could feel your nerves leaving as the conversation, while in character, felt so comfortable. "Yeah, I have been running the place for a few years now. Want me to help you with you bags? I can show you to your room" The two of you walk off scene together before it cuts. You ran the scene a few more times, taking notes as you went. Your characters filmed a bit more together, discussing the upcoming wedding. "Do you need a ride to the wedding? Damien asked you, as you sat at the kitchen table the next morning. "I am going alone so I would be happy to drive you" he added. The first time is character is meant to outright flirt with you. "Unless you have a plus one" his character sits across from you and you look up. "I do not" you smirk, as Amanda had instructed "I would love a ride" you went back to looking at your phone but the smile stayed. "Alright folks, that's a wrap!" Amanda yelled and people began bustling around again. She jumped on set and put her arm around around you "you guys did great today" she pulled you in closer "thank you for doing this" she added and you grinned "literally anything for you, and I didn't even have to dye my hair" you joked "Isn't he the best for that?" Amanda asked "It seems like it" you said before her added in "I really am" with a joking shrug. "

The next morning was filming day two of three, and you had a later call time, the morning being a lot of Damien filming with his ghosty friends. By the time you got to set, things were in full swing, but you had a lot to do to get ready. Your scenes were around attending the wedding of your characters friends. Which meant your make up and hair were done up and you were going to be in a nicer dress. Trina got you in the chair quickly, and she did great work. You needed to take some notes because you loved the way she did your make up. Next was finding the right dress. Amanda had the team bring in a few options to find what would be best. When you tried on the first one, you were instantly relieved that there were more options because this was not it. The dress was too tight in the worst ways. The second dress however fit you like a glove.

You were nervous enough about what you had to film today, you didn't want to also have to worry about how you looked. When you stepped back out to the main set area you were greeted by Amanda's grin "giiiiiiirl" she shook her head "If I wasn't married, I'd be the one falling in love with you today" she made you laugh, it was nice to feel all dolled up even though it was only for a few scenes. The bigger issue was the scene after that. Where you and Damien's character end up in bed together at the inn.

No big deal, just awkwardly laying in bed together, staring into each others eyes, with cameras, cast, and crew all staring at you. Totally fine. "Are you ready?" She asked, her tone more serious "nervous at all?" she asked. "Me?" you responded "never" you faked a laugh and she nodded, but you know she saw right through that.

You filmed a few scenes. It felt like you had to film the scene of you walking out in your dress, Damien seeing you for the first time, over and over. Notes given everytime about changing the reaction, Amanda wasn't sure if she wanted an immediate connection, or if it would be one sided from the start so you got several take options to use. Then a few scenes at the wedding, where your characters ended up dancing together, both drinking and feeling the weight of all your old acquaintances feigning interest in your lives. Gideon calls you both an uber back to the inn, far to drunk to drive. The scene cuts to Gideon helping Gwen to her room. The both of you stumbling and laughing, making jokes about the music and the speeches , but when you reach the room the mood shifts. That shift was hard to capture, filming over and over a small but crucial scene.

"Oh, Gideon..could you help with my dress?" your character says, Damien's face heating up at each take. If you didn't know better you'd think part of it wasn't acting. As his character helps, he sits down on the bed, listening to Gwen continue a story as she changed in her bathroom, door open but just out of view. That is when she climbs into the bed with him, both talking and becoming more comfortable. Only taking two takes to get that just right, natural as could be. It was the next scene, the final scene that caused issue.

Gideon and Gwen lay back on the bed, laughing about the way an old school mate said the word "wildest" in his speech, he'd spent the summer in London and now thinks he has an accent. As your laughing slows, you look at each other. Your characters seeing each other in a new way, but you and Damien could not stop giggling. Ruining the scene each take.

"You guys are KILLING me" Amanda says, giggling herself. "Ok, here is the deal. This scene is everything.. it has to be right. We have a few more scenes to get tomorrow so lets try this again then ok?" she sighs. "In the meantime, I need you two to find a way to get...better?" she said with a shrug "I need you two to look at each other like everything shifted, like your friendship is ending and a relationship is beginning. I don't care if you lay in this bed all night figuring it out...but please figure it out" she walked off and you and Damien looked at eachother as the crew starts to wrap set. "Yikes" he said, breaking the silence. "I'm so sorry" you start in but he cuts you off "hey it is both of us, it is an awkward scene" he lets out a bit of air "Maybe we should actually practice" he suggests and you raise an eyebrow

"Why Damien Haas, are you trying to get me in bed?" you ask with a smirk "Maybe" he smirked back and you and while you started it, it made your cheeks heat up. "We can order in at my place and get more comfortable?" he said, losing the edge to his voice and becoming more sincere.

"That does sound like a good idea" you admit. "I guess we haven't really hung out before, so it would be nice to just shake off the nerves and be more comfortable" you said honestly. "Anything I can pick up on the way to your place?" You ask but he shook his head "no, let me shoot you over my address and we can meet there" you hand him your phone and say goodbye to a few people before taking off and driving to his house. The nerds really hit when you walked up to Damien's door. Were you really here to...lay in bed with a cute boy? This can not be real life.

You knock on the door and hear him shuffle a bit before answering. "Hey!" he said, you could tell he was out of breath. "Sorry was just uh picking up a little" he said, gesturing for you to come in. His place looked so nice. You smiled, turning to face him "This place is very you, I like you" you said and he smiled in return "I tried to make it feel like home" he started walking to the kitchen and you followed behind him. "I thought Italian food would be a good option, so I got a few things from my favorite spot".

"I'm not picky" you smiled and watched him as he made you a plate, setting it at the table. "What can I get you to drink? I have sodas, water, tea" he looked in a cabinet next to him "Oh! I don't drink much but I have a bottle of wine we could crack open" he said, pulling out a bottle. "You know, a glass of wine sounds perfect right now" you chuckled. "You are not wrong, take the edge off" he nodded. "What, you don't often invite women over to lay in your bed and stare at you?" you joked at him

"Oh no, this s a weekly occurrence for me" he joked back. He was always quick with a joke, and you liked playing off of him. You followed him to the table, sitting down "Well now I don't feel special at all" you hold back a laugh.

You both talk, getting to know each other over dinner. You found out you had a lot in common, especially around gaming. You learned he even voiced a character or two that you liked and that was a shocking revelation. "Ok" he says, after cleaning up our plates. "I think we dive right into this. Find a way to be more comfortable with ease" he weighs in "we could like...cuddle on the couch?" he shakes his head "this is so awkward" he covers his face with his hand. You start in, hoping to ease his tension "No no, you're right." you give him a small smile "this IS awkward, don't feel bad" you both are quite for a moment "Cuddle on the couch and watch an episode of TV or something? Let us get get over the awkwardness. Pretend this is a casual date night or something" he nods "we are both actors, we can do that" he says with confidence.

You were trying to contain your feelings as he sat next to you on the sofa, turning on netflix and finding a baking show to watch. That was sweet of him since you said that was your go to type of show. "Is it ok if I put my arm around you?" he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen. "That would be ok" you glance at him. When he placed his arm around your shoulders you instinctively leaned him closer. Your heart picked up as his hand nervously laid against you. You held in your breathing slightly, afraid to move too much, wanting to just take in the moment you are in. You watched the show for several minutes like this, quite but comfortable. "I wish I could bake like this" you said, breaking the silence. "Me too" he said adjusting his arm slightly and gently rubbing his thumb against your arm. You got goosebumps very lightly, hoping he hadn't noticed. You adjust slightly and lay your head against his shoulder, allowing for a slight escalation.

In turn, Damien pulled you in a little closer and for a moment you forgot why you were here. "This is...comfortable" he said eventually and you nodded "Yeah, it is" he could not see your smile, but it was there. "Not nearly as awkward as I thought" you added and he chuckled "Oh you thought cuddling with me would be awkward? Should I be offended?" he said playfully. "or should I be happy you imagined cuddling with me at all?" he kept a playful tone but the comment made your cheeks warm. "I guess there are worse people I could have as a romantic counterpart" you joke back. "I'll take that as a compliment" he said, his thumb moving up and down your arm at a slower pace, your body acutely aware.

"We've proven we can cuddle." you say, not sure how to really say that you want to try laying down now. you feel his head nod and you move to sitting back up. "Do you want to...move to my room?" he said now looking at you. "I think so" you said, realizing how close you two still sat. "Do you..maybe want to talk expectations?" he said a bit quieter than his normal voice. "Cuddling on the couch is one thing I uh-" he stammered a bit "I want to make sure you are comfortable and that I don't overstep here" you bit your lip slightly and his eyes moved to stare but quickly came back to your eyes "Yeah" you try to say confidently "Um, the scene does call for a few things, maybe we could practice all of that.." he trail off, knowing that means a kiss.

"Ok" his smile clear "Lets just practice the scene and stop if we feel too weird. Maybe that is easiest? Lets just be Gideon and Gwen?" he suggests and you felt your shoulders actually relax a bit. "I like that Idea" you add in, starting to stand up. "well, are you going to walk me to my room?" you said in a more confident voice that you use for Gwen. Damien stood up, grabbing your hand and leading you to his room. Your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe the way you were able to continue this exercise without squealing. You reached Damien's room and looked around. He had dark bedding, and low lighting. It was much like you expected it to be but very clean and still inviting in a way.

He sat on his bed, patting next to him. "So, we both are sitting here" he said as you made your way over, sitting next to him. "Laughing about the world wildly" you add and he leaned back, you followed. This time, you turned to look at him and he looked at you. This time, there was no giggling, you both stared for a moment or two before you cracked a smile. "Look at us" he said sitting back up, that had to be 5-6 seconds right? he joked. You sat back up too "Better than before right? This is more comfortable already" you tried to shake out your hands and he watched in amusement. "Am I making you nervous" he said, a hint of joking but more a sense of intimacy in his question. He actually worried that something he was doing was uncomfortable and you shook your head no at first but stopped. "I think It was more nerve racking to do all of this with you in front of everyone, judging our movements, giving us notes, you know?" he nodded, you could tell that just saying it gave him some relief. "I was thinking the same thing" he admitted "I don't want to come off as a weirdo but it felt wrong to potentially kiss you for the first time in front of all those people and immediately receive notes on it." he chuckled slightly. "not really how I imagined it" you said, not thinking about the implications of that statement. "So you imagined it huh? He said leaning into the playfulness. You wanted to backtrack, to say something about it being in the script.

Instead you played off his attitude "what if I have?" you bit your bottom lip and you saw the shift in his face, the corner of his mouth turning upwards and he cocked his head to the side. "Well now you have to share with the class. What exactly did you imagine it being like?" the way his spoke made you take a sharp breath. You leaned in closer to him "to start, there were a lot less people" you say in a low voice. Damien matched your energy leaning in, you two sitting on the bed closely "there are less people here now" he watched your eyes, waiting for any kind of invitation "and yet you still haven't kissed me" you felt his hand on your face before the words left your mouth. "I've also thought about what it would be like to kiss you" his voice low as he inched closer. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips to meet yours. It was soft at first, testing the waters. You pushed harder against his mouth and you felt him envelop you. His hand now in your hair and his body beginning to press against yours. You fall back on the bed and follows, hovering above you as he gently pulls back.

You look up and him and smile "I think we will be just fine tomorrow" he says, before kissing you again.

#damien haas x reader #smosh fanfiction #smosh fanfic #damien haas

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waywardsalt · 6 months ago

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god i just realized. cuz the bellum x linebeck fic takes place in a light au and therefore the events of (and around) ph didn’t happen so if i plan this out right i could actually write linebeck’s brother as a character and not some vague backstory figure

#yeah i hc he has/had an older brother and i surprisingly do not use him often in aus #hes dead in most of them but present in…… space au gimmick au prrrrobably the modern aus #i could give him a role in the murder mystery one and hes def alive in ruined hyrule 1 #wether or not hes alive in dark mage au depends on if i mentioned him or not in the ganonbeck fic #salty talks #he could have some real potential in this au since he’d be like. 28. thats 8 years older than when he ‘canonically’ dies #idk ive been playing with the idea of him being engaged or smth. maybe he has a gf. he isnt straight i do need to figure that out #but hes living a normal life with a partner and gets a quick visit from his brother like heyy its been a while how are you?#not knowing his wayward little brother is effectively fucking the kraken this time around. or maybe he finds out idk #he n linebeck are close they have to be #im iffy on his brother’s name? for years it’s just been nick but ive considered extending it to smth like. nikoli. thats a company #i wanna stick with amth like nick bc thars what its been for YEARS but i gotta add a little twist to it its too normal #damien is normal but its juuuust fantasy enough if that makes sense. nick is so. normal he needs a weird full name #in the end he’s going to be called nick casually

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spacedace · 2 years ago

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I've been working on a dp x dc fic that has rather quickly become the home of the "Jazz is Gotham's Favorite Psychiatrist" au I posted about a few days ago and I've just really fell in love with the idea of Queer Platonic Murder Gremlins Damian & Dani/Elle being absolute terrors to their family and deciding to get married when they turn 18 for the sake of avoiding various people trying to date/marry them to get to their family's respective shit (the Wayne's money & social standing in Gotham as billionaire socialites, the Nightingale's massive power and influence over the Infinite Realms as the royal family).

Damien casually mentions he and his demon beastie Elle got married the day before without even glancing up from his food and completely derailing what was actually turning out to be a pretty calm family dinner for once. His siblings are losing their shit because what the fuck Damian, Bruce is having a crisis - he didn’t even know they were dating??? And he just found out Elle's sister/guardian is the mysterious doctor that he thinks is making some of his rogues disappear??? Damian didn’t even invite them to the wedding has he completely failed as a father?? - meanwhile Alfred is just there knowing full well that the two kids are little Aro/Ace menaces - he bought them each their first Ace ring for Pride this year he knows what's up - and deciding "actually I have something to do in the kitchen" and letting the chaos reign.

The Nightingales are fully aware of what's up (Danny was the one who had to do the presiding over everything in the Ghost Zone side of things and Jazz is a notary on top of everything else and signed off on all the paperwork on the human side) and are just enjoying all the various entities that were pushing for an arranged marriage between themselves and Elle for power or whatever bullshit having hissy fits over losing to some human kid. They're especially having fun not telling Constantine the specifics of the whole thing and letting him sweat it out over the fact that the Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms apparently just married the "Demon Heir" whoever in - literal - hell that is and she now is in possession of all his soul contracts.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #batman #batfam #dani fenton #danielle fenton #danny fenton #danny phantom #jazz fenton #damian wayne #queer platonic damian and danielle #aro/ace damian wayne #aro/ace danielle fenton #i'm the one writing so there's always gotta be at least one ace lol #gotham therapist jazz #gotham's favorite psychiatrist Jazz AU #Tim is having a crisis over the fact that he’s technically now related to his boyfriend danny because of this #Jason is just sitting there watching everything go to shit #and debating on if he should mention that he’s actually been dating Jazz for years and that they're common law married at this point #just to add fuel to the fire #if he doesn’t damian will because he woke up and decided to choose violence #but to be fair he always does 😂#writing prompt #fanfic writing prompts #this is open for anyone to jump in on if they’re interested #john constantine

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pedropascallme · 7 months ago

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Learn A Thing (Or Two)

Pairing: professor!Damien x f!Reader

Summary: "He caught your gaze as he continued his lesson, and you tried not to crack under the knowledge that he, too, was waiting for the clock to strike four o’clock. As he spoke in the fast, calculated manner that usually came about when he was lost in thought, you decided to take a small risk, instead of dwelling morosely on the way the class was eating away at your time with him."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, biting, spanking, p in v, oral (f receiving), dom/sub dynamics, brattamer!Damien, dirty talk, degradation, praise, mild exhibitionism, one (1) singular use of the word 'daddy,' reader gets gagged, mentions of German literature (obviously), I have never thought about refractory periods ever, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: He's baaaaack!!!! This was inspired by as ask from the lovely, one and only @hedoublehell !! It took longer than it should’ve for a fic of this caliber BUT it is done now and it’s for YOU!!!!

Damien was a skilled lecturer. He was capable of holding an audience of students at full attention for hours on end, never misspeaking, and only occasionally finding himself veering into digression.

You loved hearing him talk, hearing his voice echo around the fluorescence of the lecture hall while his words flowed with ease and enthusiasm. What’s more, you liked the way he looked doing it: button-down shirt hugging his arms in all the right places, leaning back nonchalantly on the table in front of the room. His head tilted to the side as he listened to someone in the back row speak their mind, and you enjoyed the glimpse you got of his neck straining at his tie.

All of it made you more than just a little aroused, and you could feel yourself beginning to slump in your chair. You were happy to listen and nod along, but displeased that he insisted on using up the full two hours of allotted class time.

Fridays were the worst to get through. By the time you got to his class, you were burnt out and ready for the weekend to begin, itching for the day to wrap up so that you could get him all to yourself for the next sixty-or-so hours. It was a little selfish, you could acknowledge that, and perhaps a bit immature, though you felt anybody in your position would feel the same way—you couldn’t just bag a man like Dr. Damien C. Haas and not spend all your time waiting for a moment of stillness so that you could grab him by the collar and kiss him until your lips were puffy.

You weighed your options: engage in the conversation happening around you, sit pretty and listen well, then jump on him the moment you got him alone; or act out to make the time go by faster. You'd done it before, yearning for him and making it a problem for the both of you while he tried to keep his composure at the front of the room. And though he could chastise you for it, you knew he liked when you got a little bratty. No matter how many times he’d punished you for acting up in class, talking back and arguing his point a little too zealously in an effort to make him slip up, you knew he’d be content to see you do it again.

He caught your gaze as he continued his lesson, and you tried not to crack under the knowledge that he, too, was waiting for the clock to strike four o’clock. As he spoke in the fast, calculated manner that usually came about when he was lost in thought, you decided to take a small risk, instead of dwelling morosely on the way the class was eating away at your time with him.

You waited for his eyes to flicker over to you again, before slowly uncrossing your legs. You flashed a glimpse of your clothed core. Removing your gaze from him, you opted instead to glance back at the clock, as if to remind him of the time constraint and what awaited him. You crossed your legs again.

Any outsider would've seen it as something as simple as you shifting to get comfortable, but you saw Damien squeeze his hand around the edge of the desk he reclined on. You knew the gears in his mind were turning, steadily thinking up an appropriate consequence for your action.

You played with the hem of your skirt, the picture of innocence. He cleared his throat, calling your name. You straightened back up nonchalantly, fingers still toying with your skirt.

“Did you want to say something?” He cocked a brow, taunting you silently. He was daring you to give yourself away, to misbehave again. Not as a student—he knew you’d never risk a smudge on your reputation of academic prowess, and he appreciated and respected that—but as a lover.

“Oh, yeah, actually,” you played coy, tapping your pen on your desk before bringing it up to let the cap rest on your bottom lip, “You keep saying that the Ring cycle is a marvel of German artistry, but isn’t it true that Wagner was more inspired by the Norse sagas than he was by the German literature?” You put the pen down and watched as it rolled over your desk. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and made eyes at him. “So couldn’t you say that, overall, it’s really the epitome of Western European storytelling?” Again, you uncrossed your legs, keeping them spread for just a fraction longer than you had before. You wanted to ensure that he got a good look before you daintily crossed your ankles.

The way his jaw ticked said everything. You just smiled, waiting for his answer.

He’d been mistaken to call on you; he put all his cards on the table. He had to give you his undivided attention, unable to tear his eyes from the space between your thighs while under the pretence of hearing you out.

“Well—well yes…but I think it's easy to see how it can be both important to Germany and to Europe at large,” he smiled, collecting himself and his thoughts, “Though you do bring up an interesting point; Der Ring was a real turning point in the understanding of a quote-unquote Germanic culture as it’s understood in history today.” Several hands went up around the room, and even as he scanned the class, his focus was still on you.

You checked the clock again and let your expression speak for you; we’ll be here all day if you let us keep talking about it, you smiled, wouldn’t it be easier to deal with me now, before I get even more distracting?

“You know...it’s gorgeous outside,” Damien sighed, glancing at his watch, “Let’s continue this conversation on Monday.”

You’d won the battle, and the taste of your victory was made sweeter by the knowledge that he’d be making you pay for it soon.

“Don’t we have forty minutes left?” Someone behind you blurted, and you heard a few sighs around the room, half-muted by the sound of bags zipping shut.

“Happy Friday,” Damien shrugged, and the room was soon buzzing with gracious thank yous tossed haphazardly over the shoulders of students as they dashed out to the hallway, eager to begin their weekend. “You still have to do the assigned reading!” He called after them, and several of the students he was more familiar with laughed him off.

You pretended to follow the example your peers had set, shoving your things into your bag. You rose from your chair, and Damien knocked on your desk gently, leaving his knuckles on the wood when you looked up at him.

“I’d love to hear more about the perspective you shared,” he played as the doting professor, and not the man that wanted to fuck you where you stood, “Why don’t you come up to my office so we can talk.” He began to walk up the aisle that led out of the room, before shooting a glance back at you, “Unless you have other plans?” His smile was wide and inviting, but his eyes gave away his desires, lighting a fire in your stomach. You slung your bag over your shoulder, trailing behind him.

You caught up quickly, shuffling along next to him through the long, empty hall.

“Professor,” you were saccharine, purring, “Did you dismiss class early just so you could spend time with little old me?”

“You’re being a brat,” he whispered through gritted teeth, placing a hand on your lower back as he walked you to his office.

“You love it,” you shot back; punishment was imminent no matter how badly you acted out—within reason—and you were having too much fun to lose the attitude now. “Unless that’s just your campus ID in your pocket.”

“That, and I’m happy to see you,” he muttered, unlocking the door to his office and all but pulling you into the room behind him.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of you, watching him lock the door and awaiting further instruction. He tossed his keys onto the desk, and they landed on the wood with a tinny sound that echoed slightly. You squinted, momentarily lost in the noise, which left you unprepared for the way he came up behind you. Suddenly, he had an arm wrapped around your midriff, his other hand flying upwards and gripping your jaw, leaving you to lean your head back against his shoulder.

“So impatient,” he nipped at your ear, and you whimpered at the low timbre of his voice. “You know that?”

“You were the one who called class off early, Damien.” You felt his fingers press harder against your cheeks, the flesh of your mouth rubbing against the dull outer grooves of your teeth. “Is it because you couldn’t wait till we got home?” You pushed your ass back against him. You let a whine catch in your throat when you felt the way his cock was straining against the confines of his pants. “Needed to drop everything for me now?”

His thumb stroked your cheek. “College building is the best place to teach you a lesson.” He kissed your temple, “I think someone needs to learn some manners.”

“Yeah…” You tilted your head back further against him, trying to find his eyes.

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir.” You quickly corrected yourself. You sighed happily when you felt the hand he had on your waist creep under the hem of your shirt, grabbing at your bare skin.

“Do you need me to remind you how to behave?” He leaned down to ghost his lips over your neck, “Help you learn some patience. Teach you not to flash me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Yes—yes, sir,” his hand had found its way to your chest, and he tweaked at your nipples alternately. “I’ll be such a good girl.”

He huffed a laugh through his nose. “Good girls don’t show their teachers their panties.” He tightened his grip on one of your breasts, and you hoped that each individual finger would leave an imprint deep enough that you could make out his fingerprints. "Especially not while they're wearing them."

“So take them off for me…” You whispered, lips parted and finding yourself less and less able to ignore the way his cock pressed into you.

He took a deep breath behind you, exhaling a soft growl.

“Please, sir,” you knew it would take more than that to get him where you needed him most, but you were more than willing to go through the motions. Tentatively, he removed himself from you, guiding you forward to face the bookshelf that took up the entirety of the far wall in the office.

“Put your arms up, baby,” he instructed, a hand on your elbow guiding you to stretch until your palms rested on the wood, your fingers bending to hold the position. He pulled you back by your hips, forcing you to bend. He pushed a knee between your legs to spread them, and when you felt his thigh against your cunt, you mewled. “You ok? Do you think you can stay like this?” He dragged a hand down your side.

“Yeah,” you mumbled into your shoulder, “I like this.”

He nodded. “Good. Good, baby. That’s my girl.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before kneeling behind you.

Damien flipped up your skirt, placing both hands on either side of your ass and kneading gently before he let them drag downwards over your thighs. You moaned loudly when he bit down onto the supple flesh, and although the sound was intoxicating to him, he knew the risk it posed.

“Have to be quiet for me, baby,” he reminded you, “What would people think if they heard your pretty noises coming from my office?”

“I don’t—” you gasped when he bit into you again, “Probably think you’re a good lay.” That earned you a spank on the thigh.

“Or they’d just think that you’re a whore,” he ran two fingers between your legs and over your clothed cunt, groaning at the feeling of the soaked fabric. He pressed the fingers gently against your clit. “Are you a whore, baby?”

“Just—just for you, sir.” You squirmed at the friction.

He spanked you again, and you yelped much louder than you should have. His fingers moved from your clit, both hands working in tandem to slip your panties down your legs. He rubbed a hand against your calf, helping you step out of the fabric once it had pooled around your feet, and taking the panties in his fist. He stood, moving to stand next to you.

“You’ve been awfully talkative today,” he brought his thumb to your mouth, and you sucked obediently on it while he spoke, swishing your tongue back and forth. “I think I should shut you up. Is that what you need, baby? Do you need daddy’s help to keep quiet?” You nodded, and the smile that etched itself onto his face looked downright devious. “Open. Open wide.”

You let his thumb slip from between your lips, opening your mouth and letting your tongue loll out just enough that the tip of the muscle hung over your bottom lip. He placed a hand on your jaw, keeping your mouth open for him while he stuffed your panties inside. The fabric sapped your mouth of any moisture momentarily, before your salivary glands began working double time to combat the dryness.

When you looked up at him, Damien let a moan slip past his parted lips. “God, look at you,” he let his hand slip from your face, and it settled on the nape of your neck, “Pretty little slut, gagged with her own soaked panties…” His hand moved from your neck, running down your spine. He watched you arch under his palm, “You’re going to be quiet for me now, right?”

“Y—ss—r,” you choked on the wadded-up fabric in your mouth, words meshing together, garbled.

He moved behind you once more, kneeling so that his face was mere centimeters from your core. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, kneading the flesh with both hands as he spread you apart. The tips of his thumbs barely grazed your entrance where they sat on either side of your slit, pulling and pushing the meat of your ass. All at once, he pressed his mouth to you, lips parting for his tongue to swoop over the moisture escaping from your hole. You gasped, throwing your head back and letting out weak sounds, muted by the lace between your teeth.

“So good,” he licked his lips, savoring your flavor, “God, it tastes so fucking good, baby. I think you get sweeter every time.” He dove back in, fingers pressing into your thighs as he traced your folds with his tongue. “And so fucking wet, Jesus Christ—did you get wet like this just teasing me?”

You nodded, flimsy moans escaping the obstruction of the panties as you arched further into him. You tried to get him to use his fingers, to fill you up with him and let you feel the stretch that you loved so much, but this wasn’t for your pleasure—it was for him. All day he’d been waiting to have you to himself, all day he’d been watching you act out, and now he just wanted to bury himself in you; coat himself in your need and remind you that he was in charge. He needed to get his fix of the delicacy between your legs.

The wet noises that filled the room were pornographic, and if people could hear it from behind the locked door, you knew they would have no questions about what was happening. Damien licked stripes up your slit, punching his tongue into you, lapping at just the right spot. He was enjoying himself; groans left his throat in the moments he could bear parting from your core, muttering your praises between flicks of his tongue.

He stood back up; the buckle of his belt jangled, followed by the sound of his fly coming undone, and then his cock was pressed against you. The warm, taut skin of his length slid between your ass, and you sighed gleefully, jutting your hips back against him. The thought alone of having him inside you made your clit pulse.

“Think you can take it like this? Without me getting you ready with my fingers?” He asked, his voice a sinful whisper. You didn’t know how to respond; you could, you knew you could—but even if you couldn’t, you would try. You made a noise of uncertainty, wiggling your hips for him. “Yeah, you’re going to.”

You bit down on the fabric in your mouth when he pushed into you. With one fast, hard thrust, he bottommed out immediately, and you cried out, still muffled by your makeshift gag. He groaned behind you, letting you get used to the familiar, wonderful stretch of his cock as he watched you swallow his length.

“Good girl,” he commended you, chest heaving, “Look at that, so tight, taking all of me.” He pulled his hips back slowly, his hands finding your waist. “Knew you could do it.” He thrust back into you, just as hard as he had the first time. You were thrown forward slightly, elbows knocking against the bookshelf. You squeaked, the sudden ache in your arms and legs countered by the way his cockhead nudged the most delicate spots inside of you.

When he set the rough pace you'd been hoping for, your moans became more wanton. You found it harder and harder to stay quiet; the spit-saturated panties that hung from your lips sagged on your tongue and became more malleable, and any noise you let out easily found its way around the cloth.

Damien squeezed your thigh. “Quiet, baby,” he cooed, “Much easier to get fired on a tenure track than you might think.” He was laughing, purposefully channeling his energy into finding your g-spot so that he could watch you battle with your voice as you tried to mute the effects of the pleasure he was bringing you.

You let your head fall to the side, resting it on your shoulder as all of your attention fell on the way his cock pressed against your walls. “’M s—r—eey,” you tried to use your manners, the material in your mouth keeping you from engaging in proper etiquette.

He delivered an especially sharp thrust, and your knees bent beneath you. Maybe he took pity on you, maybe he just wanted to make sure you stayed still, but he reached forward, hand coming to a halt just as the tips of his fingers grazed your chin. “Open, baby.” You did as he said, and he removed the makeshift gag from for mouth. “Good girl, keep it open for me.”

He unraveled the panties, cold and wet in his hand after soaking up all the moisture from your tongue. He shook them back out into their original shape before twisting them into something more akin to a rope. He looped your head through his arms, both hands holding either side of the now stretched-out panties as he placed them back into your mouth. He kept his grasp on them, tugging you back against him for leverage to fuck into you.

With your head pulled back, you were forced to arch as far as you could manage, resulting in a delectable change of angle. You could feel all of him; every ridge and vein dragging within you as the tip of his cock repeatedly licked at just the right spot, causing you an overwhelming surge of bliss despite the slight sting at your cervix.

You knew you couldn’t scream, but you wanted to. You wanted so intensely for him to hear how much you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. You let whimpers fall quietly from your lips, gnawing at the gag as he dragged your cunt over his cock, pulling you into him. Your arms, still pressed against the shelf above you, threatened to drop as they struggled from lack of blood flow, but you were too lost in the haze of lust as it circled your core to recognize any discomfort in your fingers.

Damien pulled you backwards with the gag, your ass flush against his hips, his cock stretching your walls. A wave of your arousal gushed over him. The gasp you let out was drowned out by a rumble from behind you, rising from his chest; proud of himself for being able to make you respond like that, proud of you for being able to take what he gave you so well. He repeated the motion, nearly pulling out of you, before quickly pushing himself back inside the waiting warmth of your cunt. His moan came out rushed, tinged with amazement, and you wanted to bottle the noise.

“Fuck—” He removed your gag, tossing the fabric onto the floor. You licked your chapped lips, drooling. “Need to touch you, baby.” He placed his hands on your hips, leaning forward to kiss between your shoulder blades. He paused, pressing his cheek against your back, “If you make a fucking sound, you don’t get to cum. Ok?” His lips felt soft against your back, his words cutting, his voice sweet. “I’ll fuck your pretty mouth instead.”

You nodded, mouth shut but eyes wide, afraid he’d make good on that promise and leave you high and dry. Even though you loved going down on him, feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue as he pressed into the back of your throat, you thought you’d explode if he pulled out of you now.

“Good girl.” You could feel his nails making crescents on your skin, his hands hungry for you after being allocated to holding your gag for so long. He removed his grasp from your hips, trailing his hands upward to slip beneath your shirt and grab your breasts. He moaned when his palms grazed your hardened nipples, quickly moving to roll them between his fingers. You bit back a whine, closing your eyes and enjoying the way he played with you.

His pace was unforgiving, and slick dripped from you to create a filthy sound that served to heighten that of skin-against-skin. You tried to focus your breathing, fighting the moans that threatened to escape your mouth as it hung agape.

But when his hand began to sink lower, fingers dancing over your stomach until they fell to your clit, you let out a strangled noise, unable to hide the pleasure that shot through your veins the moment the pads of his fingers made contact with the swollen bud.

"Fuck—like—just like that, oh my god," you disregarded his rules and his warnings, unable to contain your delight.

Damien was quick to deliver a sharp smack to your ass. “What did I tell you, hm?” Another spank, this time to your thigh, "What did I say?" His hand moved from your clit, palm pressing into your stomach.

“N-no sou—nd,” you choked out a whisper, “I’m sorry, sir—I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll be g—be a good girl for you, sir. Promise, I’m sorry.” Tears welled in your eyes and you bit your bottom lip; you craved so badly to cum on his cock that you’d say anything to make sure he didn’t fulfill his prior threat of disallowing you to finish.

He bent forward, pressing a hand to your cheek and forcing your face against the bookshelf. “What else are you sorry for, baby?”

“Being a br—at,” you grit your teeth, swallowing a sob of pleasure as you quietly moaned your apologies, the hardcover book spines pushing against your cheek. “I was a—I was a brat, I was acting like a whore, sir. I’m sorry, I’m reall—y sorry.”

His strokes became slower, more intentional as he pressed his chest against you. He crowded you against the shelf, drawing his hips back barely an inch before gently thrusting back into you. It did nothing to relax the fire in your lower stomach, still hitting the delicate spot on your front wall that made your vision go white around the edges.

“I could stop right now,” he cooed, voice quiet, cloying, “Leave you right on the edge.”

You tried to shake your head, eyes darting back to throw him a pathetic look from your peripheral in a hushed plea. “No…” The forced silence you’d endured had caused your voice to go hoarse, “Please.”

“I know, baby,” he pulled out of you until just the head of his cock rested against your entrance, barely penetrating you, “You wouldn’t like that at all.”

“Please, sir,” a tear slid down your cheek. You needed to feel all of him. You needed him to feel all of you; to know the heights of pleasure you were able to reach thanks to him. “God, please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He mused, voice gravelly, still moving his hips just enough to make you clench around nothing, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. “Then shut up and take it.” He punctuated his sentence with a rough thrust, spearing you on his cock and watching your eyelids flutter over the whites of your eyes as your pupils rolled back. You opened your mouth to scream, before quickly pursing your lips. “You know I’d never do that to you, baby,” he panted out behind you, moving the hand he had pressed against your cheek and opting now to hold your hips steady, “Can’t deny myself the opportunity to see my pretty girl cum for me.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling against the fabric-bound books you rested against, sure to have indentations on your cheek when you moved. Damien’s grip was tight, but every thrust still managed to make you veer forward. You felt the coil in your abdomen tighten, a spring being pressed down into your core.

He knew you were close, the telltale flutter of you around him and the dazed expression on your face gave you away. His hand sunk back down over your stomach and his fingers brushed your clit. He watched you knit your brow and clench your jaw as you tried, straining, to follow his orders.

“Good girl,” he pressed two fingers to you, “Wish you could see how beautiful you look, finally listening to me.” He lessened the pressure he applied to your clit, and you whined, “Are you going to keep listening, baby?” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Pushing himself as far into you as your anatomy would allow, he paused his ministrations; his fingers hovering over your clit, his hips still. “Gonna stop being a fucking brat? Stop acting out in class—stop acting like a slut and trying to distract me?”

"Mhm," you nodded vigorously, lips parted to allow the panted breaths you took in and out.

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, baby,” he smiled against your skin, and you whimpered helplessly beneath him. “But—fuck—” he felt your cunt squeeze down on him tighter, “But I wanna see you cum for me, anyway. Taking it so good.” You breathed a sigh of relief, and he chuckled, pressing firm on your clit and beginning to move again, “Keep being good for me, baby—come on.” He urged, rubbing circles over your clit, his other hand keeping your waist in an iron grip as he rolled against you.

The spring that had been coiled so perfectly within you snapped. You felt your thighs tensing, limbs shaking as the chill of your orgasm washed over you like a cold, heavy rain after a drought.

“That’s it,” Damien heaped praise onto you, still rocking his hips into you, relishing the way you pulsed around his cock, “That’s my good girl. What do you say?”

“Tha—nk you, sir,” you croaked, “Thank y-you for letting me cum.” You felt dizzy with glee, your body in a happy medium between heavy and light. You relaxed against the shelf, trying to savor the way his cock continued to drag within you, heightening the already overwhelming pleasure that ran through you from head to toe.

“Fuck—you’re welcome, baby,” he moaned as it became increasingly harder to stave off his own high. “Christ—shit, you feel so good,” his movements became more frantic, “Gonna cum, baby.”

“Yes—fuck, yes. Please,” you moaned, pushing your hips against him in time with his thrusts, “Inside. Please, inside.”

“You don’t deserve it,” he growled, “Be good for me like this, I’ll fill you up as much as you want later.” His hands were all over you, frenzied sweeps of his fingers grabbed at as much of you as he could, “But you don’t deserve it after your fucking attitude today.”

“Fu—god, please,” you knew that any effort in trying to convince him was futile, but you couldn’t help but beg.

“Gonna paint you, baby. I’m gonna paint you with my cum.” He was groaning through his words, hands finding purchase on the globe of your ass and squeezing hard, “Cum all over your ass and let it drip down your legs, get your pretty skirt all messy.”

His snarled tone and the frenzied motion of his hips had you keening for him, and just as the fire of your first orgasm had fizzled out, you could feel your second approaching.

“And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Gonna thank me and beg for more.” Damien was smiling, voice smooth, but his movements proved how hungry he was for his own release.

“Ye—s,” you moaned, “Ple—ase.” His words made you feel weak in the knees, unable to form a coherent thought after hearing the filth he muttered to you. He felt so deep in this position; his cockhead pressed kisses to your cervix while his balls, drenched in your slick, smacked heavy against your clit.

“Bratty fucking cumslut.” He moaned, and it was all you needed to reach the apex of pleasure once more. Damien cursed behind you, too caught up in his own enjoyment of the moment to have expected your second orgasm. He delayed his own gratification for a beat longer to enjoy the way your walls throbbed around him, to feel the way you trembled.

He pulled out seconds later, fisting his cock and spilling onto you with a throaty moan, watching intently as his spend dripped over your ass and down towards your shaking thighs.

“Fuck,” he muttered after regulating his breathing. Once he had tucked himself back into his pants, he swiped a finger through a rope of his cum on your ass, rubbing it into your skin. He brought his hand to your lips and you licked the digit clean, humming around him, not missing the way his breath hitched when you circled your tongue around the pad of it.

When you released his finger with a wet pop, he placed his lips on yours, wrapping both arms around your midriff. His only thoughts now centered on showering you in affection; he led you in a soft, fond kiss, mouths closed to enhance the tenderness between the two of you.

He held you tight, letting you curl into his chest. He reached to flip your skirt back down, and the fabric clung to the mess on your thighs. Slowly, he backed up, arms still wrapped around you when he lowered the both of you into a chair by the desk, pulling you into his lap and petting your hair.

“Is it bad that I think it’s…it's kinda hot that you have the spine of Tristan Und Isolde indented into your cheek?” He chuckled, fingers coming up to trail a feather-light touch over the texture that had etched itself into your skin.

“No, actually,” you laughed quietly, shoulders bouncing, “I was hoping you’d dig my new look. Thinking of doing the cover of the German to English dictionary on the other cheek.”

“God, you really know how to drive a guy wild.” Damien pressed kisses to the top of your head, and you hummed.

After a beat of silence spent nuzzling one another, he cleared his throat, “Was that alright?” The biting tone in his voice was gone, replaced by tender whispers and soft kisses aimed at your scalp.

“You always ask,” you muttered into his neck, “And I’m always more than alright.”

“I—I know,” he dropped his chin onto the crown of your head, “But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t check with you…”

You pressed your face into him, smiling against his skin. “Boyfriend?” You echoed, and you felt him tense a little beneath you.

“Is that—I just kind of figured…but if not, that’s fine, we don’t have to—”

“Boyfriend…” You giggled, and you could feel his heartbeat pick up against you where your body pressed into his. “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, well,” he laughed quietly, “You’re a little intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” You perked up, grabbing at his cheek, “Your cum is running down my ass. I'm effectively glued to your thigh.”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. “I’ll do laundry when we get home.” He stared at you for a moment, eyes up close gazing into your own. "You know, even when you only do it to act out, you say some really fucking smart stuff."

"Yeah, well...I learned it all from my favorite professor." You giggled

“Pretty, smart, perfect girl,” his eyes closed as he sighed.

“I'm all yours,” you confirmed. Your eyes closed, too, as exhaustion began to catch up with you. Damien let out a happy noise. You spent a few minutes contentedly slouching against him. Then you forced your eyes open, leaning on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Let’s get out of here."

“You have somewhere to be?” He smiled, teasing. He helped you ease yourself onto your feet.

“Yeah,” you turned to face him, straightening out, “Gotta do laundry with my boyfriend.”

"Well, then" you watched him puff up slightly, tongue between his teeth as he grinned, "We should get you home to the lucky guy."

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