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#No I don't need to read the book it actually has nothing to do with the show like most visual adaptations of verbal or written stories
glitterycvm · 9 hours
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"I'D UNDERSTAND "
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[•~college!au, aged!up kirshima x reader~•]fluff/slight angst/smut
[•~synopsis: you find out your boyfriend was just using you, don't worry ejiro will help you forget all about that~•]
[•~a/n: inspired by a situation my friend was js in, send requests!!~•]
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you couldn't believe it. after all that time? all those memories you two had together. it was all for nothing.
you and your (ex) boyfriend had been dating for a couple weeks. even though it was merely a couple weeks, you were convinced that he was the love of your life. you knew that he was the one. or at least you thought so-
gradually things got distant, he stopped making an effort overall, while you put in everything you had. you were confused and frustrated. you didn't do anything to him? so what was going on?...
then earlier this afternoon, you were catching up on some nearly-late homework assignments. as you scribbled your way through some equations a light buzz vibrated against your thigh.
curiously, you took out your phone and glanced over at the notification. you had got a message from your boyfriend.
you open his chats eagerly, for once he started a conversation with you. but your moment of glee soon came to an abrupt end as you read the first couple words.
"y/n. we need to break up"
you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. your stomach dropped making the guilty and panicky feeling overtake your senses even more.
you continue reading the paragraph, each word making that sick feeling grow in you. you couldn't believe that this was happening. it had to be a nightmare.
"tbh i was desperate for a prom date cs all my friends going had one and i didn't wanna be left out and at that point they were making fun of me so yea i shoulda js told the truth from the start instead of lying"
emotions flooded your mind. betrayal. disappointment. anger. were just to name a few. you were at a loss for words. you thought he actually loved you. he treated you better than any other guy you were previously with. and you get played?
you drop your phone, tears flooding your eyes as you fall onto your bed, head buried in the pillow below you. the only thing you felt like doing now was to cry your eyes out dry. sob until you got better if that was possible anymore. you felt stupid.
teardrops dampened the pillowcase below you face as you say there in sorrow. but your moment of mourning was soon interrupted by a series of knocks. a familiar voice following.
"y/n? you left your textbooks in the library-"
you quickly fix yourself up, taking in a couple deep breaths and wiping the tears off your cheeks. you swiftly get up from your bed, praying that the faint pink tint plastered all over your face wasn't too obvious.
your hand curls over the doorknob and you open the door slowly. being greeted with a familiar red haired boy. eijiro kirishima, your best friend. one of his arms holding up a stack of books, while the other was shoved in his jacket pocket.
"h-hey eijiro... thanks for bringing me these" you whispered, hiding your shaky rattled voice. eijiro looked down at you with a small frown. "you okay, y/n?" he asks, handing you the books, worry and concern evident in his tone.
those three words were all it took to make you crack. you erupted back into that familiar sorrow, eyes overfilling with water.
you then feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a warm and comforting embrace. without any thought you cry into his chest, a spot in his hoodie getting soaked.
a hand strokes your back softly as his soothing voice whispers in your ear "let it out, it's all gonna be okay y/n, I promise..." you hug him back even tighter, too lost in your emotions.
a couple moments pass before eijiro pulls away for a quick moment, arms still wrapped around you.
"you wanna tell me what's wrong?..."
you explain to kirishima everything that had just happened. he knew about this boyfriend you had and wasn't too trusting of him to begin with. he has a gut feeling something was off but he didn't want to burst your bubble so he kept quiet.
at least that's what he told himself. in actuality he couldn't tell if he was just jealous of him or if he actually had a guy feeling. something eijiro had never told you was that he had the biggest crush on you ever since you two had met. and every time you mentioned or introduced him to a new guy the only thing he could think of was how much better he was.
this moment was no different either. you told him in the past about how your boyfriend was treating you. from all the dry and lackluster conversations to the lack of attention. he heard it all. and he tried his best to comfort you, to try to look out for the both of you. when in reality he wanted you all for himself. he wanted to tell you how much of a better boyfriend he could be.
his blood boiled and his heart was full of fury. "that is so messed up." he grumbled arm wrapped around one of your shoulders as he held you in close, inhaling tye sweet scent of your shampoo.
"I know... im so tired of this ejiro. am I really that unlovable?.." you ask, glancing back up at the red haired male, eyelashes decorated with tiny teardrops. kirishima feels his cheeks reddened and blush as he thinks carefully about his reply. he could ruin your friendship if this doesn't go his way. but if it does workout, his dreams will come true. a moment passes before he replies.
"y/n, honestly I can't even hide this anymore from you. I love you. I mean it I swear. it drives me mad seeing you let these guys take advantage of you like this, you're too pretty and perfect to be treated like this. please- let me show you how good I could treat you-"
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and that's how it all started. you were laid down on your back, thighs pushed all the way to your chest as kirishima towered over you.
"relax for me mamas... ima make you feel so good..." he cooes into your ear, hand caressing your cheek. you listen to him and let go of all the tension you were holding in, a breathy exhale leaving your lips.
kirishima teases his tip in between your fold and clit, making the both of you let out a small moan. soon enough he gently pushes himself in, groaning at the way your wet walls clam down on his length. you grip the bedsheets next to you as the feeling of the pleasureable yet painful stretch engulfs your senses.
"you okay princess? can I start?..." he asks, checking in for any signs of discomfort on your face. it took everything in him to not start moving and pound the life out of you, he had fantasized about this moment since forever and it was finally in his hands.
you nod, and kirishima starts moving at a slow pace, making sure you were okay, after all the last thing he would ever want to do, is to hurt you. but soon enough he picks up the pace gradually, making you cry out for more. "your takin it so well for me mamas..." he praises, his hips bucking into your cunt even quicker.
"f-fuck she was made for me hm? bet that lameass boyfriend couldn't get ya like this" he mumbles, pointing your chin down to make sure you maintain eye contact with him.
he begins to get rougher, hands quickly shifting your legs from pressed against your torso to now your calves on his shoulders. the new position made him ram into that spongy spot, making your moans even louder.
it all felt so good, from the way his cock was now even deeper in you, the way his thrust became harsh and passionate you could only shut your eyes from the ecstasy.
"don't close your eyes on me mama, keep them open or I'll stop." he commands, drilling into your hole even faster now, the sound of skin slapping follow suit. you open your eyes, listening to his warning. he smirks and whispers down into your ear "good girl... you're so obedient for me mamas" he grins.
he pounds into you harshly, faint mumbles of " so-so sorry mamas... can't hold back anymore" as he drills into you, his grip on your hips was sure to leave a purplish bruise the next morning.
you feel the familiar know in your stomach tighten. "m'so close eijiro please!-" you mewl. "cmon baby... tell me who fucks you better? me or him?" he teases. "y-you do..." you mutter out, somewhat inaudible. he lightly slaps your cheek "the fuck was that?. tell me who the fuck you belong to-" he grunts out. "y-you, I only belong to you eijiro-" you cry out
"good girl, listenin to me so well..." eijiro grins and places a hand on your bud, digits rubbing quick circles all over it. bringing you over the edge.
your back arches and your thighs tremble. you let a loud moan as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. the sight alone was enough to make kirishima reach his own high. he pulls out and begins to stroke his cock, letting out pretty groans as his lips part slightly.
long ropes of cum decorate your stomach as you both pant out heavily. you close your eyes, as you catch your breath. while you do so kirishima notices your phone on the other side of the bed, open.
he grabs it quickly without you noticing and snaps a quick photo. hurriedly tapping on your exes icon and sending him the photo.
"kinda sad that you let such a pretty girl like her go. it's okay i'd understand, you didn't deserve her anyways"
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tetrakys · 16 hours
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As a close friend of Chinomiko, how does your conversations go when it’s about mcl new gen, I’m pretty curious 🤭🤭 Because she probably can’t you stuff, so when you talk about your theories about each episode, she just sits and listens? heheh I wouldn’t be able to be her friend, I would probably beg her to spoil me!!
Ahah funny you say that because it's kinda the opposite, she knows I don't want to be spoiled in any way when it comes to plot or illustrations so no I don't discuss theories with her at all, that's what the fandom is for. We have often worked side by side on our own things and I'm not even tempted to snoop, I want to enjoy the games.
Of course it would be disingenuous to say that we don't talk about the games at all. We chat a lot about the characters, their personalities, not only New Gen but all her characters and OCs (her elf thief Thael? You'll see, he's going to be my Lance 2.0 😭💕😭💕). We also read the same books and talk about romance in general, tropes, things that people like and don't like. I do bring a player perspective when we chat about possible themes, and of course not everyone has my tastes and I absolutely don't act as if I'm representing the whole fandom, but I've been playing for so long that I can give suggestions on things I know the majority of players would hate or like.
For example, people were super scared that one of the LIs could possibly cheat at some point in the game, and I know for sure this is never going to happen because we've talked about this kind of things a lot. She miiiight create drama and make the MC and players think this is happening, just because she likes to torture her characters (and us all), but it won't actually happen. So, I guess in a sense I do have a different perspective on things, just because I know her and her tastes and opinions.
About New Gen, I honestly know nothing about what's going to happen, other than the fact that we will have more personal interactions with Jason starting the next episode, and that the story in general is kinda light hearted, there isn't going to be any real drama or deep plot. We should see it more as a sitcom than a drama, if we compared it to a tv show. And that's pretty much it 🤔 I'm trying hard to think if there's anything else I know that you guys may not know by this point but I can't think of anything. I do know she's many episodes ahead, but this isn't a secret, it was said many times even when working on other games, that the Bees are always at least one year ahead of us, so everything we see was planned a while ago, they can't really incorporate current feedback.
Would you really ask to be spoiled anon? I know it's tempting but I want to be surprised while playing the game 😌 I need to slowly fall in love 💕
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viric-dreams · 2 days
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I don't think I'm ever going to finish this, so its current state will have to do.
Jones has the far nicer accommodations between them, so most evenings he and Nite end up at his townhouse.
--
I started rambling in the tags, but I'm going to move it up here instead: a bit of exploration into a relaxed moment for the both of them behind closed doors.
Small luxuries are important to Jones. They're something that he was denied for the majority of his adult life. He doesn't like the public message they send, however, so they remain relegated to the private sphere. When at home and at ease, he'll reach for the expensive dressing gown, with the soft fabric and complex embroidery. Finally, he can properly catch up on his reading. He's often spotted in public with a book or newspaper in his hand, but rarely is he actually reading. Instead, it's a convenient way to appear occupied for an extended amount of time and eavesdrop. At home, he's able to finally relax and actually get lost in what he's reading.
Nite is a bit more practical. His lounging outfits are just some of the layers removed or the buttons undone on whatever he happens to have on at that moment. He did try the robe on once, and liked the feeling of it against his skin, but felt slightly off wearing it. Let its owner enjoy it. Despite the sheer number of evenings he's spent in Jones' home, it never seems to occur to either of them to clear out a drawer, or even leave a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Nite rarely feels like he's able to close his eyes and just exist without doing something. Usually, some part of his brain is pushing him to keep working, or if there's nothing that needs his attention then it's clearly because he forgot about something important that needs doing. Actually being able to lay down somewhere and not have his brain race is a rarity. And the physical contact certainly doesn't hurt.
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spacelesscowboy · 14 days
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sometimes i'm like i don't have adhd and then the Executive Dysfunction literally starts driving me crazy
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batking-lich · 6 months
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"i'm not like those Other People, i only consume Unproblematic Media™ with Good Representation™ and i don't like Irredeemable Media™"
"i'm not like those Other People, i don't like this Sanitized Media™, i only like Real Art™ with Bad Messy Representation™"
you are literally the same people wearing different hats the only things you disagree about are what counts as bad media and what counts as good representation
#bats makes a post#oh this ''bad'' representation you love was made by an actual queer person? depicting their lived experiences?#and/or you like it because it in some way reflects your own actual lived experience? so you think it's good rep then.#and this other queer media doesn't reflect your lived experiences at all?#and it feels too clean like it was made for straight people and not actual queer people? you might even go as far as to say it's... bad rep#''i don't like Show A because there's not enough good rep'' ''i don't like Show B because there's too much good rep''#You Are Both Grown Adults Arguing About Shows For Children. You Are The Thing You Claim To Hate.#everyone needs to chill the fuck out and get some nuance and recognize this a giant community where everyone has different needs#and that we all have better shit to do than argue over ultimately nothing#and to be clear i'm not different from any of these people either! none of us are! we all like it when things are good#and don't like it when things are bad#and it's completely within human nature to argue over pointless shit so i don't necessarily blame anyone#back in the day you had to get books published and shit to be a philosopher#but now anyone can be a philosopher for free and share their ideas with the world#and that's wonderful! but god is annoying to read sometimes#(and to be absolutely clear i'm not coming specifically for people who love ''bad'' rep#those are just the takes i see more often due to content curation#and therefore the side of the debate that annoys me more because i actually see it regularly#and generally is the side i agree with more often in the broad strokes which Makes It Worse when they're annoying about it)
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faglover4000 · 1 year
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Four words followed by three: Bland, white male hero and black woman servant
The show was mid at best. You people are kidding yourselves
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frodolives · 7 months
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1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...
🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow
the franklin expedition is dead as hell
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan
10,558 notes
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all
#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh
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🎨 asherbrowndurand
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Just painted this
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ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927
RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed
🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow
HERITAGE POST
📝 shakespearesforehead Follow
How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol
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🌄 loyalromantic Follow
poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/
#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect
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🎀 thefopdiaries Follow
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I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling
📜 bartlebi-thescrivener
i think i hauve consumption
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🐋 whaler4life
They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME
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🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow
I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense
#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo
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🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow
🙈 butchbronte Follow
Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep
🙈 butchbronte Follow
I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon
#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting
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👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
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LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH
#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....
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⭐️ newamerican
Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol
#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure
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karmaphone · 7 months
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singlets stop presuming that everyone is multiple to some degree, actually challenge
#bruh there's a big distinction#does everyone experience dissociation? yes most people daydream and read books and lose track of what exactly they're doing while driving#the big distinction is SEPARATE personality states#if you do not have more than one of you in your head then you're a fucking singlet no matter how much dissociation you experience#there's a big difference between say someone with did or osdd and someone with dpdrd#can it run the whole gamut of experiences thereupon? yea. are there some people who don't align fully with either and who don't fall into#neat little boxes because that's not how the human experience works? yea#but there is a huge difference between acknowledging the level of dissociation that people experience every day and not integrating multipl#personality states between the ages of six and nine#it's a literal documented thing. there's research about it. it's not like systems are doing ALL of this in the dark#it's not like systems are out here pointing at singlets and being like You Have Exactly 0% Of What I Experience because it's just not true!#everyone experiences dissociation but not everyone has multiple fucking people inside them!!!#compare me losing entire days and weeks and remembering NOTHING except vague minute long snippets to people suffering in school from not#being able to pee when they need to#is much of our daily life traumatizing? yes. is it so traumatizing as a whole that Everyone's A Little Bit Multiple Actually? hell no#we make up 1-3% of the population not fucking 10-20 or 30-50 and certainly not 90#I realize this comes off as super psychiatry approval-y which I personally don't believe much in but like. we'll take what fucking#scientific evidence of our existence we can fucking GET#I'm. literally Angry right now ****** will probably delete this later but jfc are you serious
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jaysgirlx · 4 months
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"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"
"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"
Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.
"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"
"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"
"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"
"Buy a book or get out Jason"
You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"
Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.
Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.
Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"
"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"
"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"
It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"
"It's good he does, I like guys who read"
"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"
"Oh shut up Dick"
Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"
"Who told you about that?!"
"…Dick"
When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.
"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"
You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.
The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.
"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"
"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "
"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"
"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"
"You are soooooooooo in love me"
"Jay, get out"
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usuallydyinginside · 19 days
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TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.
Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.
But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.
Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).
In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.
At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.
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She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.
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Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.
Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.
He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.
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Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."
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I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.
Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.
Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.
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LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.
Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.
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And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)
Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).
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So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.
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I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.
WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."
Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.
Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.
The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"
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Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.
Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.
ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.
SO. MUCH. BETTER.
Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.
Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)
So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.
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I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.
Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?
You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.
(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)
Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.
2K notes · View notes
angelfic · 1 month
Text
— IT’S SO SWEET
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pairing: jason todd x best friend!reader
summary: the 3 times jason takes care of you and the 1 time he lets you do the same. alternatively, jason thinks he's invincible, but his best friend needs to be protected at all costs.
warnings: unedited. again. pls don't kill me. swearing, kissing, mentions of blood/weapons/injuries, mentions of periods, reader is a nursing student, best friends to lovers!!! <3
author’s note: *shoves it at you* another one of these fics with the same format, this time with jason :) listen to 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex while reading this btw. and let me know what you think!! drop an ask or a message, don’t be shy!💌
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1. when finals are going to kill you.
Sometimes you think being a vigilante like your best friend is worth the constant risk of dying if it means you never have to open another textbook again. When you voice this to Jason, he scowls like you've just threatened to kill a kitten in front of him.
"That's not funny. Don't even joke about that," he scolds, still frowning at you from the opposite end of your kitchen island. His Red Hood suit is sprawled out in front of him as he stitches up a loose hem, compliments of the last goon he most likely beat to a pulp. You make a face at the fact that his sleeve is covering your anatomy notes, ignoring the way he leans down in attempt to catch your eye. He resorts to snapping his fingers in your face. "Hey. Hey, I'm serious."
"Jason," you sigh, setting down your pen and resting your chin on your hand as you talk to him. "I'm studying for nursing school finals in my kitchen, because I didn't want to walk the five more steps it takes to get to my bedroom after making instant ramen. Do you really need me to tell you I'm not being serious about becoming a vigilante?"
His shoulders relax very slightly, but his expression stays annoyed. "You're going to give me an entire head of grey hair before I'm even thirty."
"Well, at least we know it'll suit you," you say through a yawn as you point to the white streak running through his hair. "So, if anything, you're welcome."
He gives you another withering glare, going back to his stitching. The tiny needle in his large hand distracts you for a minute until you realise that Jason has stopped sewing and you're actually staring into nothing now. He notices your eyes that have glossed over and immediately reaches over to slam your textbook shut, startling you back to attention. It isn't until he does this that you feel the exhaustion seeping into your bones, emphasised by the knot in your neck and the cramp in your writing hand.
Jason drags your textbook away from you, along with your notes. You take a second to appreciate how careful he is not to crease the pages, knowing you'd lose your mind. "Okay, you're done for today."
"Huh?" you mumble stupidly, his words registering in your mind too late and you realise he's just hijacked your study material. "Wh- Hey! Give it back, Jay, I have-"
"Finals, I know. Last I checked, you need to be alive to take finals and I don't see that happening unless you take a nap," he says, voice a little too calm for someone who you're about to pounce on and claw at until you get your textbook back. You sluggishly clamber off your stool and step in front of Jason, who immediately raises his arm to hold your textbook out of reach.
You look up at him and attempt an intimidating glare. "Hand over the textbook, Todd."
Jason raises his eyebrows, huffing out an exasperated laugh. "Lift one of your arms to get the book and its yours."
Your finger doesn't so much as twitch, but you sway a little until you reluctantly accept that maybe he's won this one. And maybe a nap does sound pretty good right now, you think with a groan, dropping your head so it rests on Jason's chest. Your arms hang floppily at your sides. "I'll kick your ass after my nap," you mumble into his shirt.
"I'm terrified," he deadpans, and you hear the thud of the textbook on the counter before his large hands come up to grip your waist so he can walk you backwards to your couch, knowing you well enough to anticipate your grumbles if he were to attempt to take you all the way to your bedroom. You smile into his chest.
"You've met your match, Red," you say as dramatically as you can for someone who's practically the equivalent to a sack of potatoes against Jason right now. When you feel the back of your legs hit the couch, you grip onto the bottom of Jason's shirt and tug at the fabric before he can let you go. "You're my human pillow, where do you think you're going?"
Before he can answer, you nudge him onto the couch and he obediently lies down so you can nestle in next to him and plop your head back onto his warm, muscled chest. You blame your exhaustion for your shameless behaviour.
Despite the tiredness, you can't help irritating Jason just a little bit more. "Hey, Jay. What would my vigilante name be?"
"Shut up," he says without any bite, resting his chin on top of your head. You snicker into his shirt, half delirious with fatigue but awake enough to feel his face moving as he smiles when he thinks you're not looking.
"Something cool. Like Nightwing," you mutter sleepily, poking the bear.
"What? Nightwing is not as cool as-" Jason starts incredulously, but cuts himself off. "Whatever. Go to sleep."
You hum, eyelids feeling heavy and you start drifting off, the last thing you register being Jason's fingertip tracing circles on your back.
When you wake up, Jason and his suit are gone, but you have a blanket tucked around you and a box of your favourite cookies on the coffee table.
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2. when, apparently, you aren't immune to the streets of gotham.
Considering you live in the most corrupt city in the world, you probably should be a little more cautious about going out at night. It's not like you don't take precautions, though. Like every woman in Gotham, you're loaded with pepper spray every time you leave the house. Unlike every woman in Gotham, you also have multiple vigilantes in your phone with whom you share your location with.
Even then, you aren't stupid enough to step into any alleyways. You wish that were enough to stay out of trouble, but as soon as you realise the streets have completely emptied while you've been distracted with your thoughts, you start panicking a little.
You're fine, you reassure yourself as you slide your phone out your pocket to pull up your recent texts. You keep your screen open just for some reassurance, gripping the sides of your phone tightly when you hear some distant footsteps.
It's only ten more minutes to the convenience store, so you're more irritated than scared when you hear the footsteps quicken behind you, catching up. Your fingers fumble to text an SOS to Jason, but you accidentally tap send on your chat with Dick instead. With slightly shaky hands, you try and send one to Jason as well, hoping it's gone through when your phone is suddenly knocked out of your hand.
"Oh, for the love of-" you hiss, when you hear the cracking noise of your screen against the pavement and you don't risk reaching down to grab it. Instead, you turn around slowly to face a dark figure, clad in a cliche, all-black outfit and stood in a threatening stance. God, you hate Gotham.
"Hand over your-"
"Wallet, money, most prized possession," you cut the man off, probably very stupidly. "I know the drill, hang on."
He falters for a moment before anger clouds his expression and he pulls out a knife before you can get your wallet out. You try not to sigh in relief. For anyone else that might sound crazy, but knives you could manage. Being best friends with Jason Todd means of course you've been made to learn self-defence. Disarming someone with knives was doable enough to learn as a nursing student. Guns, on the other hand, are out of your league.
The fact that you know how to defend yourself doesn't make the knife look any less threatening and sharp, though.
"Hey, look, I'm not gonna be difficult," you say, dropping your voice to a low murmur as though you're trying to coax a cat out of a tree. "I'll give you my money."
"Yeah. Yeah, you do that," he rushes out, sounding confused. You kind of feel bad for him. Most people confronted with a mugger would probably be a lot more scared than you're acting and it's clearly throwing him off his game. You almost regret bothering to send your SOS and as you're thinking about how you're going to apologise to Dick for wasting his time, you go to grab your wallet to try and stall before the mugger becomes violent. "Stop! Put your hands up. I'll grab it myself."
You furrow your brows, about to argue that no, he fucking won't. But you see that the man's face suddenly becomes ten times paler than before and he's looking behind you instead. Your shoulders sag with relief as you spin around to see Nightwing in all his black and blue glory.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?" he lowers his voice an octave and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. He seems to be focusing hard on acting like strangers, because anyone with eyes would see the problem very clearly in the form of a man wielding a knife.
"Please, help me," you respond, drily. Dick raises a brow at your flippant attitude, so you clear your throat, kicking it up a notch. You glance at the man behind you and try to look more terrified than you feel. "Please help me, Mr Nightwing. This guy's got a knife, and he's going to stab me with it."
The man frantically shakes his head, dropping the knife immediately and backing up. "I wasn't! I swear, man, I was just trying to scare her. Look, I'll just-"
"Hey." You hear another familiar voice boom, this time through a modulator. You sigh, lifting your head to see Jason, all the more threatening as Red Hood. His guns are already in either hand by his side and you have to respect the mugger for not passing out where he stands. If you didn't know it was Jason behind that mask, you'd be terrified to death. He tilts his head, evaluating the man. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Nowhere, I-"
"Exactly," Jason's warped voice comes out tight, and you hear the cocking of his gun, making you whip around to send a panicked look to Dick. He runs closer to you and you drop your voice to a whisper.
"I've got Hood, you take care of the guy."
"Don't do anything stupid," he says, not unkindly and the two of you snap into action.
You run back over to the mugger and step in front of him, making Jason falter in his movements and lower his gun. His chest rises and falls with deep breaths like he's exercising real control. "Move."
You stay as still as possible, arms splayed out in an attempt to cover the man behind you, despite the fact that Jason definitely possesses the skill to take him out even with you in the way.
"Put your guns away," you hiss when Dick has successfully restrained the man out of earshot and is dragging him away with ease. Jason steps towards them, but you stay in his way, using both hands against his chest to stop him. It's more of a symbolic gesture than anything, since you know you wouldn't be able to budge him an inch even if you threw yourself at him with full force. He stops anyway, looking down at you with his hands gripping his firearms tightly. "He was practically harmless. Let Nightwing deal with him. Please."
You're talking him down, trying to waste time so Dick can leave before Jason is able to do anything. You know you've succeeded when he tucks away his weapons, albeit reluctantly. Dick is too far away with the man now, anyway.
"What the hell were you doing out at this time?" he says, raising his voice instead of the usual quiet, deadly anger he reserves for the people who deserve it. It's how you know he's worried, when he doesn't try and control his temper. "And without dropping me a text first, so I could check on you? You do understand where you live, right?"
"Don't yell at me!" Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence and you feel your lower lip tremble slightly. Jason stills. You refuse to cry, cursing your damn hormones and the fact you're a woman and the fact that you're cramping again. You aren't in the mood to talk to Red Hood right now. You want Jason. "And turn off your stupid voice thing!"
He obliges quickly, stepping closer to you. You're angry at one less thing now that his voice is back to normal. "I'm sorry for yelling. Please don't be upset with me, I was just worried-"
"You were going to kill that guy."
"Damn straight," he fires back, defensive again.
You glare at him and he has enough sense not to speak further. Shaking your head, you let out a frustrated groan. "He was a lousy mugger. That hardly deserves a bullet through the head."
"Are you forgetting that he had a knife?" he exclaims, throwing his hands up. Suddenly, as though he's remembering something, Jason folds his arms across his chest. "Why'd you call D- Nightwing for help first?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. How about next time, I'll ask the guy with the a knife if he can hold off for a second while I select the right contact number!" you grit out, hit with another wave of cramps, extremely tired of this conversation. "It was an accident, you idiot. I meant to text you first."
You can't see Jason's expression beneath his Red Hood mask and you aren't going to ask him to remove it in the middle of the streets, but you imagine he's mollified with the way his shoulders relax a bit.
Huffing, you walk away to get your phone, gingerly picking it up to inspect the newly made cracks all over. You vaguely register Jason standing over your shoulder before you shove your phone in your pocket, a problem for tomorrow. You turn around to face him and clutch at your lower stomach, breathing turning shallow.
"I was on my way to the convenience store," you explain, gritting your teeth. "I assume you're coming with me now?"
"Why did you need to go so late?" he questions, typically not letting it go. Instead of responding, you screw your eyes shut and puff out a few pained breaths. He immediately grips your shoulders and begins inspecting you. "What? Are you hurt? What happened, did he get you?"
"I have cramps, you ass," you groan, shoving his hands away. He ceases looking for an injury, and you don't need to ask him to remove his mask to know that he's relieved. "I was going to the store so late because I'm out of my sanitary products."
"Oh," Jason says gruffly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice due to his excessive worry. "Well, I kept a whole box of pads and stuff from the other month in my apartment. It's closer, come on."
You sag with relief, dragging your feet to follow him as the two of you walk to his place. You're in his apartment so often that you're not surprised it's stocked up with period products as well as your usual things for when you stay the night. You feel a funny little flip that has nothing to do with cramps when you consider how he kept everything.
"Do you need me to carry you?" Jason asks, completely serious, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I know how bad the cramps can get."
"I took some meds a couple hours ago, they're not the worst yet," you explain, shaking him off and trying not to think about him offering to carry you all the way to his apartment just because you have cramps.
You reach his complex quickly and he sends you up while he enters through the fire escape from a back alley as not to expose Red Hood's living quarters. By the time you've entered through his door, Jason is already there, judging by his helmet sitting on his kitchen counter.
"Be out in a second," he calls from his bedroom and so you flop down on his couch, face down in one of the cushions as you try to think about something other than the sharp needles stabbing your lower belly. He walks out while you're writhing in pain and sets down some pads, two painkillers and a glass of water on the coffee table. "Here, take them now and go sleep in the bed. There's some snacks in my nightstand if you get hungry. Do you need me to stay home?"
You reluctantly turn over onto your back and see that he's also holding your fluffy panda hot water bottle. You might combust, there and then. Pouting, you reach out for the panda, grabbing it to hold it close to your body and sighing at the slight pain relief. "I'm okay, you can go back to patrol. Thanks for looking after me, Jaybird."
"It's nothing," he shrugs, turning away to hide the pink flush appearing on his cheeks and grabbing his helmet. He shoves it on quickly and you try not to let out an unattractive snort of laughter. He turns on his voice modulator. "Text me if you need anything."
With that, he slips out of his window, making sure to shut it tightly behind him. You stay on the couch after knocking down a couple of painkillers  and try to entertain yourself with some TV while you wait for Jason to come back.
You mournfully scroll through your phone, trying not to cut your fingers on the broken glass. The actual phone seems to be giving up on you as it takes forever to click on one thing to the next. Giving up, you toss it on the table and close your eyes. Making make a mental list in your head of things to do tomorrow, you add buying a new phone to it and prepare to say goodbye to a healthy chunk out of your bank account.
You don't remember dozing off, but your alarm startles you awake and you grab around for it on the nightstand next to you. Turning it off, you decide to brave the world outside the comfy sheets and realise you're in Jason's bed. He must have gotten back late and put you there, you think with a smile, suddenly happier than you were when first waking up. This happy attitude sours a bit when you nick ur finger on the broken glass of your phone screen trying to turn off the rest of your alarms.
Making your way out of his room and following the smell of toaster waffles, you see Jason plating up some breakfast for you. "Morning," you yawn, plopping down on a kitchen stool. "How was patrol?"
"Same old," he says, giving you the usual, non-descriptive answer. For all you know, he could have taken down an entire drug ring single-handedly and you'd be none the wiser. He sets down a plate in front of you, as well as a rectangular box. "Here."
You inspect the box, confused and wanting to focus more on the food before you process what it is and your jaw drops. "Jason Peter Todd. What the hell did you do!"
"Your phone broke," he says, gruffly, clearly trying to downplay the fact that he bought you a brand new smartphone, a later model than the one you already have. "Don't make a big deal out of it."
"Of course I'm going to make a big deal, Jay," you say, frowning. "I was going to get one myself today. Why did you waste your money on me? How much was it?"
"Don't worry about it," he says flippantly, plating up his own waffles. You should have known better than to ask. There's no way he's taking money from you.
You sigh, shoving your waffles and the phone out of the way to make your way over to him. "Jay," you say softly, grabbing his face in your hands. His eyes widen slightly and you fight the urge to smile. "I can't accept it."
"I said it was nothing," he replies, furrowing his brows and you release his face in favour of hugging him instead. "And it's not a waste if it's on you. You're taking the phone."
"It's everything," your voice comes out muffled by his hoodie. The cost of a phone really is nothing to Jason. It wouldn't have made even the slightest dent to his bank account, but that's not the point. "You need to let me take care of you for once. Oh, one more thing."
He hums in question, resting his chin on your head and wrapping his hands around you.
"If you buy anything for me again, I'm cutting a heart shaped hole in your suit."
Jason huffs out a laugh and you feel the vibration through his chest. "What about the coffee I get you after class every Friday?"
You stay silent.
He snorts, knowing he's got you. He drops a kiss on your head and grins when you look up to frown at him. "That's what I thought."
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3. when this guy just won't take a hint.
Jason owes you big time. You've had the longest week of your life and yet here you are, in a floor length, dark red dress and heels, for crying out loud.
Realistically, this is the least you could do for him, showing up to a gala thrown by his father to keep him company. You're more than happy to do this as a favour to him, but that fact doesn't make the heels pinch at your toes any less.
"I haven't worn this dress since high school," you grumble, twisting it around your waist where it fits snugly. You're thankful for the fact that it falls loosely past your waist, or you'd have ripped it from your body by now. "If I eat one thing, it might actually tear."
"I'll give you my jacket when you spot the appetisers," Jason says, absentmindedly. You squeeze his bicep gently in thanks from where your arm is looped in his as he leads you into the venue. "Anyway, we'll be in and out, as always. Just making an appearance for Bruce."
"In and out," you repeat, lowering your voice as the two of you enter a more populated area. You know even though Jason moans about these events, he wouldn't be here if he really didn't want to be. He cares, even though he'd never admit it.
Groups of businessmen, celebrities, entrepreneurs; basically a bunch of rich people who are dressed in clothes that are definitely more expensive than your rent are milling about, every one of them with a drink in their hand. Their unwavering smiles and the constant trips to the bar are nothing new and you wrinkle your nose at the atmosphere of the place. "Do they even know what charity Bruce is throwing this for?"
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Bruce could be throwing this thing for homeless badgers and they'd be none the wiser," he mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. Rolling his neck, he takes a deep breath. "I should go say 'hi' to him, while he's talking to a bunch of people. Prove that I actually showed up. You wanna come?" 
You almost agree, not wanting to be left alone, but just before you reluctantly trudge over to a group of Bruce's boring business associates, you thankfully spot Jason's brothers by the bar. "I'll just go hang out with Dick and Tim, is that okay? I can come with though, if you want."
"Nah, go ahead," he says, detangling his arm from yours and giving you a reassuring smile. "Come grab me when they start getting annoying."
"Be nice," you warn, gently shoving him towards the group of men as you make your way to Dick and Tim.
"Hey," Tim greets you with a smile, glancing up quickly before returning to his phone. He does a little double take, eyes snagging on your dress and his smile turns devious. "Well, you look nice. You're wearing a very... nice colour..."
"Tim," you heave a deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes, but he can't help the corners of his lips quirking up. "You can't keep doing this every time I wear red."
"I'm not doing anything, just making an observation," he shrugs, rocking back and forth on his heels in an attempt to look casual. Tim glances around to see make sure no one is in earshot before lowering his voice. "Hey, totally unrelated, but I heard Jaybird nearly shot a guy for almost mugging you."
"Tim."
"Leave her alone," Dick intervenes before Tim can needle you further. He definitely enjoys it too, but ever the golden boy, he seemingly wants to keep the peace. "How are you doing after that, anyway?"
"Fine," you nod reassuringly. "Thank you, again for showing up, Dick. I really appreciate it."
"Don't be silly, it's-"
"I heard he got you a brand new phone, too," Tim pipes up, cutting his brother off.
"Tim," you groan, thwacking him in the arm with your clutch. He barely flinches. "For the last time, Jason and I are just friends."
Tim opens his mouth to respond, but his eyes dart behind you and he thinks better of it, choosing to just smirk like the troublemaker he is.
"That's good news." You whip around to locate the source of the voice, finding yourself looking at a guy you've never met before. He seems to be around your age, dressed smart and very rich looking. You stand there stupidly.
"For who?" you ask, chuckling nervously.
He shrugs, giving you a charming smile. "Anyone who wants to buy you a drink. May I?"
Understanding dawns on you and you glance at Dick and Tim with wide eyes, feeling a little awkward that they're here for this interaction. Dick keeps his expression carefully neutral as he considers the man, whereas Tim frowns when he meets your eyes, jerking his head as subtly as possible in Jason's direction.
This has you glaring at him and just to prove a point, you plaster on a wide smile of your own and return your attentions to the stranger. "Yes. You may."
The two of you walk closer to the end of the bar and away from the others. You pointedly don't look at them. "What was your name?" you ask the stranger, mostly for the sake of being polite.
"George." A rich guy name, you think to yourself. If Jason were here, you know he'd have a million things to say.
He asks your name and you give it to him as he orders you a drink without actually asking what you want.
"Pretty name," George remarks, handing you a glass of something you've never had before. You pretend to take a sip, smiling in thanks. "So, what's your story?"
You try not to outwardly cringe at the question, sorely regretting tonight's decisions despite the fact you've been here less than half an hour. "I'm just here to keep my friend company." You keep the story short, not bothering to explain how you know the Wayne family.
"Ah, well. I dont blame you for looking so bored. I'm just here because I have to be as well," he mutters, swirling the contents of his glass. "Business connections and such."
"Oh." You find yourself being less and less interested in this conversation. "Do you know what the fundraiser tonight is for?"
"God, no," George laughs, taking a sip of his drink. You try your hardest not to grimace, mentally checked out of the conversation already. "It's always the same shit, anyway. Forget all that. Drink up and we can get out of here."
You nearly choke on your own saliva at his sheer confidence and set down your drink. "I really shouldn't. I'm, uh, I'm okay staying here."
"Aw, come on," he leans in a little closer than you'd like and you try to look as imperceptibly as you can for Dick or Tim, but it seems they've left you to face the consequences of your own actions. Traitors. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself. What, you don't like me-?"
"Hey." You feel Jason's presence at the same time as hearing his voice. You almost laugh at how relieved you suddenly feel and you and relax into his hold when he places both hands on your waist. Jason drops his voice to a murmur that only you can hear. "Ready to go home?"
You nod, turning to leave. About to bid a quick goodbye to George as not to be rude, you open your mouth but get stopped in your tracks.
"She's fine right here, man," George says, voice as smooth as glass. If the glass is shattered into sharp, pointy spikes that are as uncomfortable as this conversation, that is.
Jason's previously polite smile hardens as his front is now practically plastered against your back. "She can talk for herself."
"She was actually just-"
"She's right here," you interrupt, squirming out of Jason's arms to step back. He drops his hands immediately, but doesn't look at you. Instead, he assesses George through a narrow eyed gaze. You can't decide if George is being brave, or stupid for not cracking under the weight of Jason's intense glare as he stands there, all six foot two of him posing a threatening picture. "Right, well. I'm just going to-"
"Hey, hold on," George says, averting his all-too arrogant gaze back to you and gripping your upper arm, jerking you slightly. You flinch a little when he moves into your personal space. "You aren't going to give me your number?"
His grip doesn't hurt, but it's a world away from gentle and you almost gape at the fact he doesn't seem to be aware of how uninterested you are.
Jason immediately clocks this, stepping forward. "Yeah, I don't fucking think so," he says darkly and then he shoves at George. Hard.
The people nearest to you gasp and titter when they see George careening into the stools at the bar and you slap a hand over your mouth, shocked. Shocked that Jason had actually gotten violent as Jason and not as Red Hood. All over a random creep, no less.
Before George even has the chance to recover from the surprise of Jason's brute force, you pull harshly on Jason's suit jacket, steering him out of the venue and into the hall. He follows you without protest, still breathing heavily.
"What the hell was that?" you hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, despite being alone out in the entrance hall.
"He grabbed you," Jason says slowly, as if he's confused as to why you're upset. His expression is tight, like he's being careful to control his anger even now that you're away from George. "I would have done a lot fucking worse to him if you hadn't dragged me out of there."
"You cannot go all Red Hood when you're Jason! It's suspicious as hell. Not to mention how you were practically back-hugging me like some sort of reverse bulletproof vest."
"I always do that," Jason says, calmly. The fact that he isn't raising his voice just spurs you on to raise yours higher. The multitude of emotions swirling around in a confused whirl around your stomach makes you nauseous.
"You hate being touchy in public," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Last month, you punched Tim in the stomach for putting his arm around your shoulder. Anyway, that's not the point! You're so occupied with trying to take care of everyone that you never consider yourself. Or let anyone else do so. Yeah, that guy was an asshole. But he was just an asshole trying to talk to a single girl. He wasn't some... some crime boss or villain or evil freaking mastermind for you to take down!"
"I don't need looking after. And he didn't know you were single," Jason scoffs, running a hand through his neatly combed hair, mussing it up. If you weren't so irritated, you'd take a moment to appreciate how much you prefer it when he looks like this. Real and raw, like the current expression on his face rather than closed off and emotionless. "You came here on my arm, wearing my colour, like Tim's always fucking going on about. You... you're my..."
"Your what, Jason?" you ask, hysterically. You're almost yelling now, finally ready to snap at Jason's inability to share his thoughts with you. He stays silent, face going blank again, an indication that he's closing himself off to you. Your shoulders sag from exhaustion. "Come talk to me when you can give me an answer. I'm going home, I'll get Dick to give me a ride."
You don't wait for a response as you walk back into the venue. Thankfully, Dick is near the entrance and you don't have to subject yourself to too many stares before he takes you home. You don't glance at Jason on your way out.
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4. when he asks for your help.
You're moping. You don't bother trying to deny it, but you're definitely moping around your apartment since your fight with Jason. You wake early every day and get dressed and study, but your movements are almost robotic in nature.
Dick has tried texting you a few times, but you've decided to just avoid looking at your phone, because it's the one Jason bought and it just makes you feel even worse. You aren't sure if Jason's tried contacting you, but your phone stops going off around the same time as Dick's evening patrol and you don't let yourself dwell on it further.
The two of you have never gone this long without speaking and aside from the pit of unease in your stomach as well as the sadness hanging over you like a dark cloud, you're also just bored. You have acquaintances from your nursing course, but no one close enough to do anything with this late at night.
Oh, well, you think to yourself, Chinese food and Grey's Anatomy for the second night in a row it is.
You take a quick shower, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary to let the time pass. Getting out, you change into your second pyjama set of the day, opting for a hoodie when you feel a chill in your room that wasn't there before.
You go to shut your bedroom window with a frown, not remembering why you opened it. The handle is stiff and you internally curse your landlord for still not fixing it as you finally succeed in shutting the damn thing after a particularly hard tug.
It shouldn't have taken that much energy out of you, but you're panting when you walk out of your bedroom to enter the living room so you can sit in front of the TV and order the takeout that you probably shouldn't be eating.
Before you can even attempt to regulate your breathing, you look up in the direction of your couch to find Jason sitting there in his Red Hood suit and slap a hand over your mouth to smother your shriek.
"Oh my God," you gasp, your free hand flailing out frantically to grasp the door frame in an attempt to steady yourself. The minute it takes for you to catch your breath is enough time to take in the state of the vigilante sitting in the dark of your living room.
You switch the light on and Jason winces at the sudden brightness, but you take the opportunity to give him a thorough once over. His dark hair is disheveled and falling into his eyes from hours of confinement in his helmet and he has a fresh bruise blossoming across his cheekbone.
You hardly ever use the main light, usually opting for a warm-toned lamp instead, so when the main light casts the cuts and scrapes on Jason's body in a harsher light, you want to turn it off even more.
Jason's eyes flutter shut for a second and you immediately rush forward to assess him for any injuries causing major blood loss. "Did you get stabbed?" you ask clinically, your voice void of any emotion. "Are you bleeding under your suit? You need to stay awake-"
"I'm fine," Jason mutters, opening his eyes to peer up at you through tired eyes. "I'm not bleeding or anything. Just wiped out from patrol."
You relax slightly, taking a step back to create some distance between the two of you. "Oh. You snuck through my window to tell me that you're tired?"
"Anyone could have snuck through that damn window," he says, brows furrowing in disapproval. He's been hassling you about the security of your apartment since you can remember and you usually wave him off, but in this moment you bristle.
"You don't get to be annoyed at me right now," you say, crossing your arms and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "Why are you here, Jason?"
He grimaces at the use of his government name coming from you and takes a deep breath. "I haven't slept."
"So, go home and take a nap," you say, exasperated, letting your hands fall to your side as you're about to turn around and walk back into your room. Before you leave, you hear your Nursing teachers' voices in your head, reprimanding you and you sigh. "And you want to clean those cuts before they get infected."
"Could you do it for me?" Jason asks quietly, barely audible. His jaw clenches with the effort of asking you the question. "Please?"
You blink at him. "But, I- You've never..." you trail off, not knowing what to say. Jason has always refused to let anyone else patch him up after patrol. Hell, he's even learned how to do stitches on himself when you're the one learning how to do them for a living.
"I want... to let you look after me," he whispers, looking at you imploringly like you're going to refuse. Your irritation immediately melts into something else that you don't want to analyse any time soon.
"Oh," you exhale softly, heart twisting unwillingly. You nod slowly, words escaping you again. "Okay."
Jason's head flops back onto the couch cushion and he sighs like all of the tension is leaving his body. His hair covers his eyes, but you don't miss the dark circles under them, contrasting starkly with his skin, pale from exhaustion.
You consider letting him stay there, but you know it'll be easier in the bathroom where you keep all of your first aid supplies and the lighting is better for when you're practicing your techniques. "Come on. Up," you say, gesturing to the bathroom with a jerk of your head and you walk away, allowing him to come in his own time.
While you're digging through your bathroom cabinet for all the supplies you've haphazardly thrown in after using them, Jason slips in and you glance over at him quickly. "Sit down," you mutter, reaching up for the disinfectant. It sits on one of the higher shelves and you have to get on your tiptoes to reach it. Jason instinctively moves to help you but you shoo him away, managing to grasp it yourself. "Sit down."
"Yes, nurse," he huffs out a quiet laugh and you bite back a smile, opting to roll your eyes at him instead. Setting your supplies down behind Jason, you focus your attentions on unzipping his suit. The way his arms are resting limp in his lap tells you that he's not wanting to move anytime soon. You bring the zipper down yourself and pull off each sleeve cautiously, not wanting to rip the suit further where the torn fabric is clinging to the bloody cuts in his skin.
Once the suit is hanging loosely around his waist, you see from the black tank he's wearing that the cuts are localised to his now bare arms from where he's been defensive, whereas the fabric on his chest and abdomen are intact.
Jason's eyes track your face as you assess the extent of his injuries and when you lift your face to look at him, he's unabashed, continuing to look directly into your eyes. Your cheeks warm and you stutter out a sentence "I-I'll be right back, one sec."
You rush out of the bathroom and into your kitchen to pull open the freezer and scramble around for a bag of frozen anything. Settling on a bag of peas that you have no intention of cooking anytime soon, you hurry straight back to the bathroom.
Jason eyes the peas warily and you raise a brow, daring him to challenge you. When he stays silent, you move forward to shove the peas onto his cheek where the bruise is a darker red mark than before. He hisses when the icy bag makes contact with his face, flinching away from it.
"Ouch," he mumbles belatedly, giving you a sheepish smile when your mouth sets in a line. You should probably be gentler with him considering it's the first time he's allowing someone to physically care for him and it's you he's choosing to cross that boundary with. It's not like you want to scare him off so he never asks you again, but you can't help still being annoyed with him after your fight.
You sigh, trying to relax your face into a non-threatening expression. "Sorry. Keep it on your face to stop the swelling."
Jason grasps the bag slowly as you let go, letting his fingers brush over your own. You clear your throat and focus your attentions on the cotton pads, dousing them with disinfectant. Jason looks at you through one open eye, the other obscured by the bag of peas. "You shouldn't be the one apologising," he says, after a beat.
You purse your lips, bringing a cotton pad up to Jason's shoulder. "I know," you say simply before you press the disinfectant into one of the larger cuts, harder than probably necessary. Jason screws his eyes shut and works his jaw, but stays quiet. "Did that hurt?"
Jason shakes his head immediately, letting out a short breath he was holding. "Nope. Felt good actually. Kinda like a cooling effe- Shit," he hisses, tensing his arm. You think that's enough torture for now, instead continuing to gently wipe away the blood and dirt.
"I won't apologise about that one," you say, shrugging. Jason cracks a smile and you find yourself hiding one of your own as you clean off the other, smaller cuts and scrapes that don't need bandaging. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Promise I'll be nicer about it this time."
Jason shakes his head again, so you dispose of the cotton pads and get the band-aids, the only noise in the bathroom being the sound of you rummaging through your supplies. When you spot the choice of band-aids, you grin. "Pick one."
Surveying the two that you hold in your hand, Jason's gaze lingers on the dinosaur patterned band-aid, before flicking his eyes up to yours and raising an eyebrow. He points to the other one. "I'll take the Hello Kitty."
Your grin widens, knowing he's only choosing the pink Hello Kitty band-aid to appease you. You're certainly not going to challenge him about it as you carefully peel off the backing to stick it over his shoulder. Stepping back, you tilt your head to evaluate him and nod. "You look very pretty."
Jason smirks, but the slight blush creeping across the cheek that isn't covered by the frozen peas doesn't fool you. "Pretty enough for you to forgive me for being such an ass?"
"That depends." You take a tentative step towards him, crossing your arms. "Are you going to stop being stupid?"
Jason lowers his arm holding the bag of peas and places it behind him. With both hands, he reaches over to your arms, uncrossing them to bring you forward until you're standing close. He's so impossibly tall in your tiny bathroom that even standing up, you're only eye level with him as he sits on the closed toilet seat.
"I can't promise that I'll never be stupid in front of you again. You kind of have that effect on me," he says, sighing like it's some curse inflicted on him. You thwack his rock-solid arm and he grins. "I can promise I'll let you take care of me from now on, though. And that I'm going to stop lying to you."
"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. You're even more confused when Jason places his hands around your waist to guide you onto his lap, both your legs hanging off one side of him. You raise both eyebrows expectantly, waiting for his answer, but he merely stares at you, smiling. "Jason. When have you lied to- mmph-"
He cuts you off by pressing your lips together in a kiss, one hand still holding yours, intertwining your fingers while the other tilts your chin up so he can kiss you deeper. You're a little slow on the uptake, frozen from shock for a second, but it isn't long until you're kissing him back just as eagerly. You shift in his lap, lifting one of your legs to swing over to his other side until you're straddling him and Jason takes a sharp inhale, sitting up straighter and pulling your body closer to his.
He pulls away for a millisecond, before his lips reattach to your jaw, travelling down to pepper soft kisses down your neck and you let out a noise halfway between a sigh and an embarrassing whimper. Jason groans at the sound, nipping at your neck and you feel like you can't breathe enough air.
He pulls away again to catch his own breath and you take the opportunity to come to your senses and lean back, gently pushing at Jason's chest. You breathe hard, trying to lift your gaze from Jason's swollen lips and he seems to be having a hard time looking away from your own.
"Jason," you say, voice shaky and uneven.
"Mhm?" he hums distractedly, pressing a soft kiss on your jaw before looking at you again.
"You kissed me," you point out, stupidly. "You really, really kissed me."
"I did," Jason murmurs, both hands cupping your face. He swallows, expression going from dazed to nervous before he speaks. "You asked me what you are to me before you left the other night."
You nod slowly, head still reeling from the kiss. Truthfully, you were willing to pretend the conversation never happened if you could go back to being friends again. You missed Jason. 
"You're everything to me." Jason's shoulders are relaxed, his face free of tension as he says this. You're so shocked by the fact that he doesn't seem to be in pain as he opens himself up to you, that it takes a minute to process the actual meaning of his words. Your lips part but he shakes his head, continuing to speak. "You're everything. And sometimes I can't even think about that too much, let alone speak it, because I'm scared it'll consume me. I'm scared you'll consume me. The idea of compromising your safety, the idea of you loving me back, all of it. I'm... I was scared."
You lift your hand to place it over Jason's, still resting on your cheek. "That's okay. I can think and speak enough for the both of us," you tease and Jason laughs quietly, his breath tickling the inside of your wrist and sending a shiver down your spine. "You're everything to me as well, by the way. And sometimes all I can think about is loving you. I was just waiting for you to say it first."
Jason smiles and you think the corners of his lips lifting up and his eyes lighting up is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, each time blowing you away like it's the first time you've witnessed it. "Does that mean I lose? Kinda feels like I've won," he tilts his head, pretending to think about it.
"Oh, you've so lost," you furrow your brows in a mockingly serious frown. "And I'll be telling Tim as much."
Jason stills. "Please do not tell me that he bet you fifty dollars I'd confess first as well."
Your jaw drops. "That little bastard was playing both of us?"
You start laughing when Jason lets out an irritated groan, dropping his head onto your shoulder to bury his face in your shirt. You thread your hands in his hair and wrap an arm around his neck. He sighs, half content and half resigned. "I say we don't tell him for as long as we can get away with it. Live in peace for a while."
"We're talking about Tim here," you remind Jason, leaning back to lift his head and look at him. "I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew. And he'd literally never talk to you again if he knew we were hiding it after he finds out."
"I don't care," Jason says, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles. He leans back to run his eyes over your face, drinking you in like looking at you is a rare occurrence that he doesn't get the opportunity to do much. "You're all I need, anyway."
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© angelfic 2024.
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hello!! im not sure if you're still doing requests for miguel, but i'd love to read a miguel x reader where they both find out they enjoy daddy kink and miguel just absolutely spoils them rotten 🥰 can be smutty and fluffy, like a headcanon style thing!! thank you so much <3
hii!! I don’t personally like daddy kink, but I did this in a way that’s similar just bc you asked so nicely (it might even actually be what you wanted lmao, but im not sure) thanks for requesting, hope you like it 💌
MIGUEL BEING A PROVIDER ;) HC’S
miguel o’hara x female reader
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warnings. 18+ only! dacryphilia, size kink, tiny mention of sir. mdni
// fluff and smut are split in half (fluff first)
fluff hc's:
— one thing about miguel is he's a provider, always taking care of the special people in his life. he's the kind that loves to give (i say that loosely), especially to those he loves 
— he loves to treat his little love: giving them lavish gifts, spoiling them - getting them things they could never afford. nothing has a price tag for his girl
— I imagine him frequently surprising you with dinner and flowers. dressed all smart, fancy car pulled out front, waiting to spoil you for the evening: wines, cheeses, 3-course meal, a violinist playing in the restaurant (which he booked out for the evening btw) all the extravagant things he often does for you, and only you !!
— you never have to lift a finger, never have to work, never have to clean, never have to cook your own meals (unless of course, you wanted to) he believes it's his job to take care of you, and all he wants in return is for you to love him, and give an occasional back rub
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smut hc's:
— again, he thinks it's his job to take care of you - to meet your needs, but that doesn't mean he's opposed to an impromptu blowie when he's in the home office/ lab
— don't think he likes being called 'daddy,' so 'sir' would be a good substitute. he likes it when you say it on accident, all breathy and whiney between strokes
— he loves how small you are compared to him. the sheer size of him towering over you, so I def think he loves a bit of missionary or mating press - he's just so massive, and he gets to cage you against the mattress which he loves !! he gets to watch your face as he slowly fucks into you. he gets a bit cocky (??) and says all these things that make you really fucking weak in the knees, "whose fucking you this good?" "like it when I fuck you like this?" "no one does you this good, do they?" but it's all low and quiet, breathy and husky. THE king of, "oh, yeah?" and "mhm-hm,"
— when he's on top - he holds your face in his MAMOTHLY LARGE hands !!! rests his forehead against yours !!! softly grunts against your lips !!! kisses away your tears !!! compliments and praises you for taking him so well !!! sandwhiches his chest with yours so you can't move !!! hikes your legs over his hips/ thighs !!! he's slow with the strokes, letting you feel every SINGLE centimetre. he surprises you with a snappy jab occasionally just to feel you shudder and to hear the harsh moan you make - and when you bury your face the crook of his neck and dig into his back and and and 
— THOUGH he does like you on top sometimes. watching you struggle to use his huge cock, whining pathetically when you can't get it to feel good. he'd cave and grab onto your waist, gripping you so he can fuck himself up into you. pounding you from below - balls slapping, skin sticking, the lot. makes you cry with his cock, and he loves it
— also you have to cum at least once before he even gets his dick out, sorry it's his rules 
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
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bvidzsoo · 6 months
Text
Grease and Oil
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⨳Mechanic!Mingi⨳
TW: cursing, smut wrap it before you tap it
Word count: 5,6k
A/N: I don't think I'll ever let go of bleached spikey haired Mingi. It changed something in me, I'll never be the same. I have nothing to say except...why did I even write this? Song Mingi stop haunting me, thank you. It's not the best, but the best I can write lol. Feedback is very much appreciated!
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            The smell of grease, oil, and gasoline weren’t something unfamiliar to me, nor were they nauseating. It was something I was used to. These were familiar scents; scents which I have started associating with home. Cars, too, were something I associated with a feeling of familiarity, of something dear to me. Walking inside my father’s car service was like a second home, a place I knew like the back of my hand. I wasn’t huge on fixing cars, but I knew a few things here and there. Despite my father’s attempts at making me a great mechanic one day, I struggled to understand the in-depth parts and mechanism of a car, therefore I settled on appreciating their beauty. Can’t say my father was too happy about it, but his concerns faded away when I found a path for myself. I applied to a college, choosing to study literature as I struggled finding anything else I liked. Perhaps creative writing was a subjected I happened to enjoy too, but I had no idea where my degree would take me one day. I had no intentions of teaching English literature, the children these days were awful and very disrespectful. My short temper would’ve surely gotten the worst of me if placed in a situation where I had to deal with rude kids. And so, I settled on reading my books and pouring my feelings out into short poems when I wasn’t at college. Or by wasting my time away at my father’s car service. It’s not like I had anything better to do—I actually did, but procrastination is my best friend. Besides, most of his employees are above the age of thirty-five, and two of them I have known since I was a little girl, they could be really fun to hang around…and it’s not like I would often stop by because my father has an employee who is barely a few years older than myself. And it’s definitely not because he is the hottest man alive I have ever seen. He’s a tall and lean guy, his posture immaculate with his shoulders always pulled back, his long legs worth envying and shoulders so broad you could hide behind them and nobody would see you. In the summer, he usually wears tight tank tops, showing off his humble muscles, biceps finer than most guy’s of his age. And his pants, which are fireproof, cling onto his body, showing off his narrow waist. This guy was a sight for sore eyes and I couldn’t blame the few ladies who would occasionally stop by, completely taken aback by this guy’s visuals. It wasn’t fair that he had a perfect body, especially when his face was good-looking too. God sometimes had favorites and Song Mingi definitely was one of them with his long nose, sharp eyes and cherry red lips, a singular mole underneath his left eye decorating his flawless skin. His personality also made him desirable and that just made him a dangerously charming and handsome human being. Perhaps my frequent visits to the service during the summer were sort of his merit too, not just the want to spend some quality time with my father as he spent little time at home. I knew he was busy; I couldn’t blame him. His service was one of the best in our little town and money didn’t just magically appear, you had to work hard for it and that’s what he did, he worked his ass off all the time. The fact that he has employed Song Mingi was just the cherry on top, the little motivation I needed to perhaps learn more about cars.
I was settled on top of my father’s working desk, tools pushed to the side, feet dangling as I watched him work on a car’s engine, getting more and more furious by the second as he couldn’t find one missing screw. I watched quietly as his phone rang again, making him sigh loudly before he straightened himself up and took the call, eyebrows furrowed. It was a hot summer day, the AC did little to nothing inside the hot service, and the use of different electrical tools only created more heat inside the spacious room. I had started fanning myself, overhearing my father make an appointment as an obnoxiously loud engine whirled past the entrance to the service, making my heart skip an excited beat. It was lunch break, and Mingi had just returned from eating his meal. He was gone by the time I had arrived; I was rather lazy this morning and thus didn’t bother getting out of bed before 12 pm. My father turned towards me as he finished his call, looking rather irritated. It wasn’t directed at me; however, I still knew a lecturing would follow because I sat on his tool desk…again.
“Get off, Y/N, I asked you so many times not to sit there,” He sighed tiredly as he headed for the exit, “I have to examine a car, are you coming to the front?”
Certainly not before I have seen Mingi, “I’ll wash my hands first, they feel slimy, meet you at the reception, dad.”
He nodded once and hurried outside, phone already ringing once again. Summer seasons were always busy, work pilling up quickly. I started fanning myself with my hands as another heatwave hit me, making me sigh. Not even a tank top and shorts were enough to stop me from sweating buckets. I pushed my hair behind my shoulders and gripped the table, about to jump off it, when the man I stayed behind for finally showed up. He walked through the open garage door, having to duck as it wasn’t raised enough for his towering height. He had his back to me as he walked inside, carrying two boxes, muscles of his arms bulging as a few guys greeted him, instructing him where to place the boxes. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for the wave of shook which rooted me to my spot. My mouth hung open as my eyes remained trained on Mingi, and I could only hope nobody noticed my shameless gaping. Three days ago, when I have stopped by last, the man’s hair reached his shoulders almost and was a faded light brown. Now, his hair was completely bleached blonde and stood up in all places, spikey. A hairstyle definitely shouldn’t have made my tummy do flips, yet I had nothing to swallow as I watched Mingi laugh with a fellow mechanic, explaining something to him animatedly. His black tank top was tucked inside his beige pants, a black belt holding it against his hips securely. A black bandana was tied to his left bicep and I licked my lips as my eyes ran over his frame, stopping for a second too long on his ass. Perhaps crawling onto the wall sounded like the most normal thing to do right now. Just as I was about to look away, the man he was talking to briefly glanced at me and Mingi suddenly turned his head, eyes falling on me. Looking away right now would mean admitting that I had been staring at him, so I forced myself to smile nonchalantly at him and blame the flush on my cheeks on the extremely hot weather—which combined with Mingi’s presence only made my body heat up even more. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’d do anything to get railed by Mingi while he wore his working clothes with grease smeared on his cheek. My heart skipped a beat as a lazy smirk appeared on his lips as he took off towards me, making me gulp in panic as I straightened my posture.
“Hello, princess.” He called once he was close enough and I rolled my eyes at the nickname, acting as if I totally hated it. It did bother me at the beginning when he started calling me that, but I didn’t mind anymore. And it certainly shouldn’t have made me blush.
“Hi, Mingi.” I greeted him back, smiling as I crossed my legs and leaned forward, holding myself up by my hands. My knuckles hurt from the grip I had on the table, but I ignored that.
“What brings you here today?” He asked nonchalantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. I didn’t want to look, but his biceps were bulging and I’m just a simple woman, “Thought you washed your car when you stopped by last time.”
Ah, yes, the good old excuse of washing my car when it didn’t need washing yet. To be fair, I had a cleaning problem so that was the main reason why I washed my car so often, Mingi being here was just another thing to motivate me to stop by more frequently.
“I did, I’m not here for that.” I admitted, clearing my throat as Mingi’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, mischievous glint appearing in his eyes. He hummed shortly, the sound deep in his throat, reminding me how hot I found his raspy and deep voice. He had once whispered in my ear as he snuck up on me, wanting to scare me, and I swear to God, I almost reached Heaven that day.
“Are you here for me then?” The cute pout of his lips and the finger he pushed against his cheek definitely didn’t match the sultriness of his words and the look in his eyes. It made me take a deep breath as I forced myself to roll my eyes, embarrassed that he had a feeling I was only here to see him. I mean…I did wear my favorite off-shoulder top just because I knew we would see each other.
“Why the sudden change of hairstyle?” I decided to change the subject, but it only made Mingi smirk as he looked at me almost victorious, almost as if he knew I didn’t answer him because he was right. Mingi ruffled his already spikey hair with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Just wanted something new,” He answered, “besides, it’s so hot these days, my long locks only made me sweat more. I feel like a new man right now. What do you think, do I look nice?”
Nice was little said, I would’ve described him more like: hot, sexy, attractive, gorgeous, mouth-watering, “Yeah, you look nice. It suits you.”
Mingi smiled happily and bowed lightly before his phone beeped. I didn’t understand how a man like him could be so cute while looking like a Greek God. My eyebrows slightly furrowed as I watched Mingi chuckle and smile down at his phone, quickly typing something on it. Perhaps he was seeing someone? Of course, why would a man like him be single? It shouldn’t come as a surprise; I should have thought about that sooner. But then again, he never mentioned a significant other. With a sigh, I jumped off the table and dusted off my shorts, running my hands through my hair. Mingi paused, looking up at me through his long lashes. I forced a smile on my face, suddenly discouraged by my own thoughts, as I grabbed my phone off the table.
“Got to go, dad’s waiting for me.” I mumbled as Mingi’s eyes slightly narrowed, eyes swiftly running over my body. He nodded wordlessly and I turned around, taking off towards the exit.
“That top looks really nice on you.” My steps halted for a second as I looked back at him and chuckled before exiting the garage, walking towards the reception, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach at the simple compliment. I should probably download a dating app and find someone available to obsess over.
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            The blaring music and blinding disco lights in the living room were becoming too much as my tipsy head swirled around like a disco ball, throat parched up and dry from the lack of water. Certainly the amount of alcohol I have had was enough for the night as I pushed people out of my way, slightly wobbling as I headed for the kitchen, desperately needing water. A super rich guy from college threw a huge ass party and invited some guys over from our college, one of them being one of my close friends. I wasn’t one to turn down a good party, and when the alcohol was free, I would certainly attend it. Seonghwa and I had teamed up and played beer-pong together, kicking Wooyoung and San’s asses, but losing to Hongjoong and Yunho. We should have known better not to challenge those two competitive monsters. All in all, the night was fun and after having lost Sooyoung to some hot guy, I hit the dancefloor with Wooyoung and San, the three of us dancing our hearts out to every song. After a while, I grew concerned and started calling Sooyoung, making my two dancing companions almost take my phone away after six missed calls. But it didn’t take long for Sooyoung to finally text me, telling me she was upstairs with a Yeosang named guy smoking some weed, and that she’d be down in no time. I rolled my eyes at the text, huffing as I handed Wooyoung my phone to take care of. My skirt had no pockets and I forgot to bring a fanny-pack, I have grown tired of holding my phone, Wooyoung’s back pocket would do the trick until Sooyoung returned and I could give my phone for her to put in her little purse. The music wasn’t as loud in the kitchen as it was in the living room and it was also less packed, which made me grateful as I walked over to the window and pushed it open, smiling contently at the cool air which hit my face. I certainly needed to cool down. I grabbed a red cup which looked relatively unused and filled it with tap water, downing it in mere seconds only to fill it up again and again until I felt satiated. I threw the cup away and leaned against the counter, holding my thumping head in my hands as I closed my eyes for a second, thinking it would help. But it only made me more nauseous and I quickly opened my eyes as I massaged my forehead, still leaning slightly over. Somebody next to me asked if I was okay and I quickly nodded, telling them that I just needed a moment to regain composure again, and I’ll be off dancing once again. However, a weirdly familiar deep voice suddenly filled the kitchen, some high-pitched giggle following straight after the ridiculous joke the guy told. My nose scrunched up at the very cheesy pickup line which followed and I snorted, unintentionally catching their attention as they didn’t stand too far away.
“Y/N?” The deep voice asked surprised and my eyebrows furrowed as I finally raised my head, smoothing down my hair as it fell in my face.
“Oh, Mingi.” I muttered just a little surprised by his presence here. I wondered how he knew about the party, however, the black-haired girl by his side was a tell-tale. She was a student at my college and she was pretty as fuck. I sighed, and unintentionally glared at her, unimpressed by her presence next to Mingi. It’s not like I knew her well to form an opinion about her, but personally, I didn’t like her that much. Especially since Mingi seemed to be here with her. My eyes fall back onto him and my brain blanched for a second, never having seen him outside of the car service up until now. Him not wearing his tight-fitting clothes was something new and I couldn’t help but let my eyes run all over his body, taking in the sight in front of me. He wore a loose-fitting white t-shirt, the front slightly tucked inside his grey ripped jeans which were baggy. He wore a black pair of convers, and a black fanny-pack was pushed around to his backside to not bother him. However, what made me take a second to process what I was seeing were his accessories. His necklaces were layered as he wore a red braided like material which sat snugly against the base of his neck, then a silver chain followed, and a silver cross which reached just bellow his collarbones. His wrists were decorated with silver chain bracelets, matching the chain around his neck and he wore various rings, some bigger than the other, his right-hand sporting four meanwhile his left three. If all of that combined with his hair wasn’t enough, his fingernails were also painted black, albeit already coming off in some spots, but still painted black. He was a sight for sore eyes and it took everything in me to not grip his arm and walk us upstairs, completely disregarding the girl he was here with.
And she just had to speak up, “Oh, you two know each other?”
“Yeah, her dad’s my boss.” Mingi answered before I could and I raised an eyebrow as the girl took me in, unexpectedly smiling at me as she placed an arm around Mingi’s shoulders. My jaw tensed subconsciously and I licked my lips as I leaned back against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“We go to the same college,” She told Mingi, offering her hand to me, “I don’t think we’ve ever really introduced each other, though. My name is Jennie, I’m Mingi’s cousin.”
“Cousin?” My eyebrows raised as I shook Jennie’s hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Mingi playfully pushed Jennie off himself as he answered my question and Jennie just rolled her eyes.
“Whatever, giant, if I leave you alone with Y/N, will you behave?” She raised her eyebrows threateningly at Mingi and he just chuckled, raising his hands in surrender.
“I always behave.” He defended himself quickly, but sounded like he didn’t mean it at all.
“No, you don’t.” Jennie rolled her eyes then looked back at me, “I have to find my boyfriend, he’s somewhere here around, probably drunk off his ass. If Mingi bothers you, just knee him in the stomach really hard and come and find me, I’ll kick his ass for you—”
“I’m right here, you know.” Mingi rolled his eyes and ruffled Jennie’s hair, “Get lost before I chase you away.”
Jennie scoffed but walked away after she waved at me, leaving me alone with Mingi. My hostile behavior slightly dropped, but I couldn’t help look at Mingi with narrowed eyes. I knew what I heard while I was fighting the urge of throwing up. Why would anyone flirt with their cousin? That was disgusting.
“If Jennie is your cousin…why would you say a pickup line to her?” I couldn’t help but ask him accusingly. It made Mingi laugh as he stepped closer, smiling cheekily.
“Eavesdropping, weren’t you?” I opened my mouth to deny his claim, but Mingi didn’t let me, “First of, ew, that’s literally my cousin do I look like I fuck with family? And second, that pickup line was actually sent by someone whom I have been talking to, and I was just reading it to Jennie.”
“How many girls are you talking to currently?” The question tumbled past my lips before I could even think about it. I only could blame the alcohol for making me so straightforward and embarrassing.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Mingi chuckled and stepped closer, invading my personal space. I gulped and pressed myself harder into the counter, hands coming to grip the edge of it. A smirk appeared on Mingi’s lips as he leaned down to be eye level with me, eyes searching my face before they settled on my lips briefly. My head was spinning and perhaps I was seeing things, but his tongue poked out for a second, “You look really hot.”
I gulped and let out a quiet breath, looking down at myself. The leather skirt clung onto me like a second skin and the flower decorated corset did little to nothing to cover what I would usually hide. It was Sooyoung’s idea to dress up like this, she wore a matching set except her corset was green meanwhile mine pink.
“Uh, thanks.” I whispered and didn’t dare move as Mingi lowered his head even more, looking through his lashes as he looked me in the eyes. He’s never stood this close to me before; it only now made me realize the height difference between us. And I couldn’t help but faintly smell gasoline despite his strong cologne.
“Dressed up for someone?” He muttered and I felt a warm finger lightly trace the skin of my right arm. I gulped nervously and ignored the goosebumps on my skin.
“I didn’t know you’d be here—” I tried changing the subject, it seemed to be a habit of mine lately.
“But if you did know, would you have dressed up for me?” Mingi’s raspy voice whispered in my ear as he leaned closer, my mouth opening without a sound coming out. My tipsy brain didn’t exactly know how to function in that moment and that meant I had nothing to say. But as he pulled back, we made eye contact, and his intimidating gaze pulled an answer out of me instantly.
“Yes.” I would totally hate myself in the morning for admitting that, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when he was standing so close and saying things like that. A smirk pulled onto Mingi’s lips and suddenly his hand raised as he gripped a strand of my hair lightly and twirled it around, brushing it behind my ear. I watched him mesmerized, body slightly trembling because of different things. The opened window brought in the chill breeze and we stood close to the it; Mingi’s closeness and touch made me want to crash my lips against his, and I was fighting every fiber in my body to stop myself from doing that, thankfully not tipsy enough to lose all rationality.
“I think I know about your little secret, princess.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he suddenly cupped my cheek and tilted my head back, hovering his face over mine, eyes tracing my features slowly. I hoped my red lipstick wasn’t smudged and that it would be smudged in no time.
“What secret?” I asked confused, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, his fingers slipping towards my nape as his thumb pushed against my cheek.
“About your little crush—” He barely whispered, eyes on my lips as my mouth parted, heart beating like crazy, “on me.”
Before I could answer him, his teeth caught my lower lip between his and he sucked on the flesh, making my face flush as I mewled, hand holding onto his waist for more stability as the counter wasn’t enough anymore. He held eye contact as he released my lip and I felt like crumbling onto my knees and giving him anything he wanted as my grip tightened on him, head pulled closer to his by the grip he had on my nape. Mingi’s lips barely brushed against mine and I tried to close the impossibly little distance between us, but he just tsked and smirked.
“Good girls eventually get what they want, princess, be a bit more patient.” I couldn’t help but groan in frustration as Mingi released me and took a step back, smirking as he swiped his thumb over my lower lip, smudging my lipstick. I threw him a glare, but he just laughed and then turned around and walked off with a cup he grabbed off from the counter. I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip, pressing a palm against my racing heart as I tapped the sweat off my forehead, needing another cup of water to cool off.
            And I didn’t even have to wait for too long. Four days after the party, my father asked me to stop by the car service because he couldn’t decide what color to choose for the tuning he was doing for one of his friend’s car. I couldn’t have been happier to stop by as I made it my personal mission to stay away from that place for as long as possible, embarrassed by what happened between Mingi and I at the party, but also because I wanted to torture him a bit too. I could only hope he yearned to see me as much as I yearned for him. My father was out, having to pick up some pieces in the nearest city, which was half an hour away, so that meant he’d be gone for approximately an hour and a half. Everyone was gone by now from the car service as working hours were over, everyone except Mingi, of course. He had to catch up on his work as he had to skip a day for some undisclosed business. And yes, Mingi should’ve been working right now on that old car nobody actually wanted to fix, but here he was, balls deep in my pussy, thrusting into me like his life depended on it. I guess he was just a simple man too, and he fell exactly into my trap as I walked through the garage door wearing my little sundress, high heels elongating my legs. It didn’t take long for Mingi to stop whatever he was doing as he dragged me to the backroom, where there were no cameras, and pushed up on the table, wasting no time in undressing himself and working up the both of us. My head was thrown back from the constant pleasure his movements brought, his length reaching places no one else has before, my right hand gripping his bare waist as I rolled my hips to meet his thrusts. Mingi was biting his lips hard, holding onto my hips as I had to hold myself up with one arm, muscle straining with each strong thrust. Perhaps I should have expected him to be vocal, but the whines he would let out every now and then only turned me on even more, dragging my own moans out of me. Grease stuck to his left cheek, just underneath his mole and his already sweaty body from working was glistening once again, smelling strongly of the substance he has been working with to clean rims of the old car.
“I bet you’ve been fantasizing about me fucking you covered in grease and all sweaty from the long day I’ve had.” My only answer was a loud moan as he hit the sweet spot which made me see stars, and for a second, all I could hear were his own pants and the table squeaking louder and louder with each thrust.
“You have no idea—” I moaned as I clenched around Mingi, mind blanching for a second as he hit that spot again, “How fucking hot you look—like this.”
My fingertips dug into his hips and Mingi suddenly leaned down, pressing my back flat against the wooden table, rotating his hips as he suddenly slowed down. My mouth opened in a gasp and my legs went around his hips, one hand tangling in his blonde spikey hair as the other went around his shoulders to anchor myself. Mingi groaned in my ear as I clenched around his length again, his thrusts painfully slow on purpose, making me try to move my hips, but he had me pinned down by his heavier body.
“Fuck, please—” My whine was muffled by his lips as he pressed them against mine, pushing his tongue past my lips as I kissed him hungrily, wanting to feel more and more of him. Our lips moved messily against each other as Mingi slightly quickened his pace, but it still wasn’t enough. My eyebrows were furrowed as it started becoming unbearable and I whined, pulling my head away and choking on my words for a second, “I’m going to fucking die if you don’t go faster.”
I couldn’t believe Mingi had the audacity to smirk as he bit my lower lip harshly, making me push his head away as he chuckled amused, fake pouting at me.
“Thought I said good girls get what they want—” He completely stilled, bringing tears into my eyes out of frustration as I gripped his nape, trying to move against him to no avail, “And you’re being rather impatient right now.”
But before I could say anything, the slightly stood up and pulled almost fully out before slamming in again, his pace relentless and thrusts sharp as he threw his head back, moaning, making me grip onto his lower arm as he hit my g-spot over and over again, making my back arch as broken moans left my lips, nails digging into his skin. I was going fucking insane as his thumb found my clit and he started rubbing circles on it, making me cry out as I felt my orgasm building up, ready to snap any second as Mingi’s moans got higher and higher, my walls clenching tightly around him, bringing him closer to the edge as well.
“Fuck.” He hissed at a particular sharp thrust, his hips almost stuttering but I managed to meet his movements, desperate for my own release as I clawed at the wooden table, back arching as the pleasure became unbearable and the knot in my stomach snapped, making me let out a high-pitched moan, only for Mingi’s lips to muffle it as his hips stuttered, his own release following mine, filling me up. My body trembled and my lungs heaved for air as I came down from the high, our lips touching with Mingi as we both panted into each other’s mouths. His scent was intoxicating and I couldn’t help but burry my head into his neck and lightly bite down on his perfect skin, making him shudder. He didn’t pull out yet and I felt him twitch slightly, making me chuckle.
“So, I’m hot when I’m all sweaty and covered in grease?” He spoke up, voice raspy, and his words made me laugh as I allowed my head to rest against the wooden table, throwing an arm over my eyes. I could feel Mingi’s smile as he pressed a kiss against the corner of my mouth, swiftly pulling out.
“I said it once, I won’t say it again.” I peeked at him as he quickly pulled up his boxers and tight pants, adjusting his tank top.
“If I knew all I had to do was change my hairstyle for you to finally let me fuck you—” Mingi shook his head as he helped me off the table, smirking when I had to lean against it for support, my legs having gone numb, “I would’ve done it a lot earlier.”
“Perhaps if you weren’t so oblivious,” I threw him a glare and pulled up my panties, adjusting my dress, “You would’ve noticed how badly I wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you, idiot.”
Mingi laughed and threw an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into himself, “Now that that’s out of the way…do you want to date or do you want us to just fuck?”
His question made me pause as I looked up in his eyes, biting my lower lip in thought, “You want to go out with me?”
“I sure do.” Mingi said it like it was the most obvious thing, then he jutted his chin towards mine, “What about you?”
“What do you think?” I asked with a chuckle.
“That we should go for a second round—”
“Mingi!” I pressed my palm over his mouth and threw him a little glare, “My father could be back anytime, you know. And yes, I do want to date you. Unless you’re always this annoying.”
Mingi fake laughed as he pushed my hand off his mouth, “Aren’t you just so funny?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and he tried kissing it, making me yelp and push him away, which made Mingi giggle as he placed his hands in his pockets, “So, tomorrow at six?”
“But you better shower before you come pick me up.” I pointed a finger at him as we went to leave the room.
“I thought I smelled hot—”
“You can’t smell hot, so just—” I sighed and looked at him, “Just—dress up. You—I mean, you know, you looked really good at the party. I haven’t seen you out of your work clothes before.”
“Aw, aren’t you so shy right now and stuttering all of a sudden?” He cooed and poked my cheek, “As if I wasn’t inside you—”
“Y/N, you still here?!” I heard my father’s voice shout from afar and I threw Mingi a warning look as I pushed him away. He walked towards the car he had to fix defeated, throwing me those sad puppy eyes and a pout as my father walked inside the garage.
“Hi.” I waved at him and he smiled, glancing at Mingi.
“You can fix it tomorrow too, you know?” My father said as he went to put his own utensils away. Mingi hummed but said he didn’t have much until he was done, liar. My father glanced at me and I looked away from Mingi, smiling at my father innocently. He just shook his head and threw his keys at me, making me clumsily catch them.
“Go pick up your mother, I’ll stay behind and help Mingi fix the car.” He muttered tiredly as he walked up to my soon-to-be-boyfriend, oblivious to what Mingi would soon become to him as well. Not just an employee, but perhaps a part of our family too. I jokingly saluted my father as I stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Mingi, who was already watching me.
“Goodbye, Mingi.”
“Bye, Y/N.” Mingi tried to fight the smile off his lips as I turned around and ran off with a giggle, cheeks burning suddenly with embarrassment.
Good girls eventually get what they want, don’t they?
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thevoidstaredback · 23 days
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Every man has his breaking point. Danny's is just a bit higher than everyone else's because he's a king and has a high tolerance for absolute bull shit. No matter how strong that bar is, though, one can only bend so far before snapping.
Unfortunately for everyone around him, Danny has reached his breaking point.
"I wish I could get drunk," he stared into his drink longingly, "Or high. But mostly drunk."
"Why do ya say that?" Billy asked, tilting his head curiously to the left.
Danny sighed, "It's a long story."
"I've got time." he shrugged.
"Are ya sure?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "You don't think any emergencies are gonna crop up? Nothing you'll need to go take care of?"
Billy backed off a little, folding into his seat. "What're you talking about? I'm just some kid on the street. I ain't going anywhere."
Danny rolled his head from side to side. "Mostly, I'm talking about the JL meeting the both of us are gonna skip out on tonight."
"What-?"
"C'mon, Captain, it won't do to talk here," he stood, picking up his coffee and waiting for Billy to do the same.
Billy's eyes narrowed as he looked Danny up and down. "I don't recognise you," he whispered, "Who are you."
Danny produced another calling card from his sleeve as he sipped his drink, holding it in front of himself but not handing it over. When Billy was looking at it, he flipped it over. The white background turned matte black, all the runes in the Ouroboros turning so white that they glowed. The DP in the very middle tinted blue, pulsing with toxic green energy, slightly cold to the touch. The edges started to frost over.
Quickly, Billy pulled the card Danny had given him before from the inner pocket of his jacket. It, too, had changed to match the one Danny held, though there was no longer a DP in the middle. Instead, it said 'Phantom' in fancy calligraphy.
"No way," the kid muttered, his expression awestruck, "Phantom? That's you? No shit?"
Danny chuckled, tucking the card away again, "No shit, kid. Don't tell anyone, though. You're the only one who knows."
"Really?" he squeaked.
"Really."
***
Having someone know his whole story was refreshing, just as he's sure Billy felt good to have someone know his, too. That didn't stop him from feeling bad about dumping it all on the poor kid.
"I still wish I could get drunk," Phantom lamented."
Constantine looked up from the book he was reading. "You can't get drunk?"
"Nope."
"How'd ya figure that one out, kid?"
"Please don't call me a kid."
That's not good. The blond marked the page before setting the book to the side. Phantom had never actually asked him to stop calling him a kid. "What's wrong?" He didn't normally do the whole 'feelings' things, but the was an exception.
Phantom sighed long and sad. He didn't look up from the carpet. "I told you they were going to ask invasive questions."
"Who was it?" It was more of a demand then a question.
"Red Robin,"
"Red- I thought you would've skipped town when we were done there? I sure as hell did."
"I know you did, but I decided to stick around for a bit. Wander, y'know? Red Robin caught up to me and would leave me alone."
Oh, oh no. Those were tears. Were they? Yeah, shit, they are! John is not equipped to handle this!
Phantom sniffled. "He asked me how I died."
Fuck.
John Constantine is not easy to anger. Sure, he gets tired, and irritated, and a whole slew of emotions, but he is very slow to anger.
Phantom, he knows, is not a child. The ghost can very much take care of himself in basically every way one could think of. He saved the world on his own, several times, when he was fourteen. He became a King and Protector when he was fourteen. He died when he was fourteen.
Right now, all he could see was the child who hadn't ever been properly laid to rest. It was hard not to call Phantom a child when he seemed so small, seeking comfort from anyone. Phantom was crying. He'd retreated to the House and locked himself in Constantine's room, only talking when he was ready to, but he'd waited to cry.
Phantom didn't like crying. Every person in the JLD knew this.
No. John Constantine is not quick to anger, but he is scary when he reaches that point. Batman might be the night and vengeance and all that shit, but John Constantine was wrathful.
He sat beside Phantom and let the ghost lean into him and cry. He didn't like dealing with feelings, but this was a child in need of comfort and he was the only one around to offer it. "Do you really want me to stop calling you 'kid'?"
A sniffle and a small head shake. "No."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"...sure."
"How old are you really? As a ghost, not as a human or a halfa. How old are you?"
"Fourteen." he mumbled, "I'll never be any older than fourteen, John," he was getting a bit hysterical now, "I'll never be any older than fourteen! I-I died and-and now I have to rule and-and people keep asking and no one believes me and-!" A sob cut him off, heavy with grief and wet with tears. He cried for hours, giving up on trying to form words. Constantine let him, ignoring the wet patches on his shirt. Eventually, Phantom's sobs died down into hiccups. "I didn't...I'm- I'm sorry."
"It's alright, mate," he meant it, really and truly.
Phantom rubbed his eyes, "I'm gonna go hide somewhere."
"Not gonna share where?"
"No, I want to be alone for a while." He paused at the door, "Whatever you're gonna do, will you leave Captain Marvel out of it?"
Odd request, but, "Alright," he nodded, "I'll talk to the others." And by 'talk', he means lecture. There are boundaries that one shouldn't cross, and not asking the dead how they died should've been obvious! With his League issued communicator, John called an emergency meeting in one hour, required attendance, barring Captain Marvel. First things first, though, he needed to talk to Deadman.
Part 7 Storyboard
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alwaysshallow · 6 months
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@bunnyreaper's secret santa thing; I had the pleasure to write for @cooliofango ❤️ I hope you're gonna have the best time reading this, love.
AO3 VERSION
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Simon isn't there—that's the first thing you notice, when you wake up.
You think it's odd; he always sticks around, especially in the morning. Either he is reading something in bed, a book or an article, or tries to wake you up, softly, kissing your arm, if it was past nine in the morning.
Right now, even his side of the bed is cold, so he had to leave at least an hour ago, maybe more. You get up with a slight frown on your face, multiple questions in the back of your mind, what possibly could bring Simon out of bed. There's many thoughts, and they aren't really positive; usually if he had to leave, it was something military related. A missile missing, someone to rescue, intel to get or secure.
Being with Riley made you realize how fucked up the world is and how many times it needs to be saved. This time though, in theory, he has vacations that he asked for. Holidays with his girlfriend, he said, which caused you to grin like crazy one, since you loved this term. His girlfriend, his significant other with whom he decided to spend time with, even if he doesn't like holidays.
It's main reason why you aren't really doing anything festive this year; out of respect to him. Sure, you spend more time together, you plan to watch movies tonight, make some food, but nothing really related to Christmas. No lights, no tree, nothing what could possibly trigger his memory with the holidays and make the time worse than it already was.
But now, your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, and your plans are under a big question mark. You don't even know where he is, if he is here, in your shared house that you've decided to buy a few months ago.
"Baby?" you call out, looking around. There's a few boxes laying on the ground, door is wide-open; if you wouldn't know any better, you'd assume that somebody broke in. Knowing your boyfriend though, how he secured the house... hell, it takes only one wrong move and alarm goes off, as Simon said once, shortly after he installed it.
So, door wide-open, bringing in the cold, clear indicator that he actually is here somewhere. And, sooner than later, you'll see him.
You prefer sooner than later, though, so you go through the door, just to see your man with a tree—Christmas tree, to be precise—with shocked expression on his face. Then, he puts it down, just to sneak his arms around you, tight. Just like he loved to do, practically from the start of your relationship.
For a military man, he is very touch starved, and you try every time to give him the love he deserves.
"You didn't wake me," you murmur into his broad chest, at which he chuckles. You look up at him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling.
"Sorry, love. Had to take care of some things," he says, his hand caressing your back delicately. "But 'm here now. Let's go to bed, yeah?"
"Oh, no, no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I want to know why there's a Christmas tree here. And those boxes? Seems like decorations to me, Mr. Riley."
He acts like you caught him red handed on something; Simon looks away and sighs, just to look at you a few seconds later with a semi-guilty look on his face. You have to hold back a laugh; he seems so stressed about something simple, it's adorable.
"I don't like Christmas," he starts, playing with your hair. "But I know you like 'em. Your eyes sparkle every time you see this shit, lights, trees, everythin' and—"
"—Simon, we don't have to—"
"—let me finish." He looks at you, a bit sternly, so you nod. You have to listen to him, especially if he asks you to. "And I just can't do this to you. Take it away from you. 'm a grown man, it's time to change some things. 'specially those hurtful ones."
You gnaw at your bottom lip, silent for a few seconds, as you try to collect your thoughts about this situation. It's hard not to cry right now, given how he overcomes his own weaknesses, just for you. Just for the both of you, so your future will be brighter.
"You are," you cup his cheeks into your hands, "the best man I've ever, ever met. I'm so lucky to have you, you know? A man that's willing to spend Christmas with me the traditional way, to
“You can't say this shit to me,” he warns, his voice almost a whisper. You raise your eyebrow, but you don't stop kissing his jaw, even when he sighs.
"Because that's so bad? Or because that's the truth and you'll blush any second?" you ask teasingly, at which he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. To see his smile, to see how happy you can make him... you cherish every moment like that, knowing his history. Knowing how hard it was, how hard it still is because demons doesn't go easily.
Yet, you see the progress. His battle, to be more open, to allow himself to be more vulnerable at least around you.
“You’re gonna make me even more addicted," he explains to you, kissing your face a few times. He bangs with his nose against your eyeglasses, but he doesn't really seem to mind. "And I’m already weak. It's like... you're something that I’m not immune to. Everyone will see that later, on that Christmas party.”
He doesn’t say he loves you. That would be crazy, he thinks; every time he told someone he loves them, they died. He doesn't want it to happen with you, not when he didn't think of an idea how to possibly save you, keep you safe and locked, close to his heart.
But he can’t deny that you have him wrapped around your finger and you always will. Task Force 141 knows about you, they even invited you two to the Christmas party later, but the l-word has to wait. You know that he loves you anyway; maybe he doesn't say it, but his actions shows you enough love. And, he has other words—be safe, you know I care about you.
It speaks louder than simple I love you but he knows he's gonna say it. He has to, even for your sake.
"That's good. I love you being addicted." You grin, hugging him even tighter. "Because I'm addicted to you as well. To my big, wonderful boyfriend. Now... about those Christmas decorations."
You wouldn't think that decorating your shared house with Simon would be so fun and chaotic in the same time. Your boyfriend does the lights—since his height abilities are just insane—and you are basically running around with snowmen, reindeers and other creatures that you somehow can associate with winter. Riley also gives you disapproval looks from time to time, telling you to dress yourself properly, as you're just on your pyjamas; it ends up in you being in his big, warm hoodie, since you don't listen.
It's like everything you dreamed for, in domestic matter.
The best is taking care of the tree, though. You two have different ideas—yours with doing it in two colors that compliment each other, red and gold for example, which would give the glamour vibe of the house. Or, Simon's idea which is complete chaos. He looks so happy with placing the ornaments, that you don't tell him about color theory, you don't suggest making it less colorful either.
You just put everything just like he is, with instinct, and when he asks about your opinion, you can't help but smile widely and praise him for being creative. His enjoyment gives you the time of your life, honestly.
"You do it like it's in your blood," you say, laughing happily when he gives your cheek a big, wet kiss. His arms locks around you automatically, his lips dropping a bit lower.
"'st because of you. My girl," he purrs. "Maybe we should take a break and eat somethin', eh? Something Christmas-y."
"Christmas-y?" you repeat, observing with a small smile stomach how he drags you over to the couch, towering over you. He has absolutely no problem with crashing you with his weight, which feels so good considering how warm he is. "What would you like?"
"Anything my woman wants, I'll eat. My civilian woman."
You can't help the sensation of your heart fluttering at this view; at Simon kissing your knuckles, at Simon being so affectionate. You are sure that you haven't seen him like this before, not this open with his feelings.
"Yours. That civilian woman, for a superordinary man," you say, quietly.
“My civilian woman.” Simon’s eyes shine as he repeats your words, a light smirk forming as he gazes down at you. You really are gorgeous, so beautiful as you're there in his arms. "'m not superordinary, but I guess I'll take it."
He reaches over to remote, turning off the light in the room. Now, all that’s illuminated is the moonlight and sparkling, multicolor Christmas lights, casting a pale ray of light in the darkness.
Before he loses himself in your eyes, he leans over and presses his mouth to yours. It’s a slow, quiet, yet passionate kiss—one that sparks a fire in both your souls.
"That sounds very dorky, if you think about it," you chuckle quietly, still keeping his gaze. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, glimmering so gently, you can't help but be lost in them. God, it's even better when he turned off the light. You don't see each other properly, but the dark figures are adding everything to your imagination, when you continue this slow kiss.
You can only hear your lips smacking against each other.
“You’re perfect to me,” he says, his voice husky as he gazes down at you. You make his heart flutter. You always do, but lately, those butterflies have turned into something else, as he told you a dew days ago. "The most perfect woman in the world. Even if it's cheesy, as you say."
"You're such a cheesy man, Riley," you whisper, as you smile at his sudden comment how you are perfect to him. Knowing that he's not the best with words, and still says something like this, was just the most important thing for you. "But I like that in you. Just as much as your soft spot for those romcoms we watch. Even if you call them sappy and cringe," you say, closing your eyes.
"They are sappy and cringe. But it's our type of sappy and cringe," he murmurs into your skin, burying his face in your neck. Right in this moment, he doesn't seem to care about anything else.
And you don't care about anything else either, when you have him right by your side. Safe and secure, far from deployment, far from all those dangerous things probably just waiting for him out there.
"I love you," he whispers.
And you know you have your gift.
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cherryredstars · 17 days
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omg hi cherry!!! yay yay yay I'm so excited requests are open! I love your writings ❤❤❤
Mkay so I was wondering if you would be into writing something more fluffy (I mean you can put smut if you want, lord knows I'm not gonna complain 🤭). I was thinking maybe reader is a teacher, and Gabriella is in her class at school, so she meets Miguel that way. And like over time he just keeps making excuses to see her, even though Gabriella's grades are actually totally fine— he's just so down bad lmao
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reder
Warnings: Fluff, Last Line is Suggestive
A/N: Hi, lovie! Thank you!!!
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You're fucking stunning.
Standing there in a pretty little dress, skin glowy from summer vacation. Got one hell of a smile on you, too. It has Miguel antsy as he waits in line to drop Gabi off for her first day, his hands tightening around his daughter's book bag as his eyes study every little move you make. Eyes zeroing in on how the wind plasters the back of your dress to your legs, your hands catching the front of it to prevent the fabric from flying too high up. He's nothing but a lovesick puppy by the time he reaches you, nodding dumbly to your introduction as he marvels over the softness of your hand in his, and eyes dropping to the glossy tint of your lips. He has to stop myself from making a noise when you bend down to talk to Gabi, complementing her outfit and gushing about how excited you are to be her teacher this year. The sight is so fucking domestic and he has to stop the fantasies popping up in his head. He takes it as a god-given sign that you're meant to be his when you start to get up, only to grab onto Miguel's shoulder as two little kids come running and bumping into you from behind. He'd be one hell of a lousy man if he didn't jump at the opportunity to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him to 'help steady you'.
Any day that Gabi comes homes with a little paper asking for parent help at a school event for her class is one hell of a lucky day for Miguel. Instantly jumping at the opportunity, signing up the seconds he reads it. Can't miss out on a single opportunity to see how you treat Gabi like she's your own kid or be close to you. Fucking loves how flustered you are every time he takes something off your hands, encouraging you to leave all the heavy duty labor to him so you can focus on the kids. He's always offering to do something for you. Something in the classroom is broken and the school's maintenance is taking too long to fix it? Oh cariño, why didn't you say something sooner to him or Gabi? He'll come in during your lunch break to fix it up while the kids are at recess. Sweet little thing needs help putting up decorations around the classroom? Oh baby, what do you think big, large men are meant for? He'll stay after school Friday and put everything up, just sit and be pretty as you help Gabi with her math homework. Sad that you need to buy new supplies for the classroom but they don't fit into your budget and you feel bad having to ask the parents to donate supplies again? Oh doll, send him a list of anything and everything you want and it's yours, pretty ladies like you don't deserve to worry about things like that. He'll even give you his number so he can buy you lunch.
And when you blink up at him with your sparkly doe eyes and ask, "What can I do to repay you, Mr. O'Hara?"
Fuck.
If you aren't careful, he might just have to buy you a pretty little ring. And, by next school year, you'll be introducing yourself as Mrs. O'Hara.
Maybe he'll even give you a kid of your own while he's at it; Gabi's been bothering him about a baby brother, anyways.
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