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#but this man is so massive they are probably just gonna keep moving with his current roles like bakugou's va
saeraas · 2 years
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Huh, Sakurai Takahiro is trending I wonder if it's jjk- "Sakurai Takahiro has been found cheating on his wife for ten years" WHAT?!?
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milla-frenchy · 4 months
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Wolf like me
2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: you meet someone who finally fills the void in you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Darkish. rough sex, oral (m/f), facial, self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spitting, biting, manhandling, unprotected piv, rimming, ass play, anal, creampie, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta-ing me, and hearing me whine 😭💕🫶 There are Joels that are particularly physically powerful, brutal, and sexually aggressive. I call them “beast!Joel” 😍🥵 Here they are: Carnal @pascalsbby | Daddy Joel & A day in the filth @toxicanonymity | Lost in the dark @iamasaddie. Thank you for these awesome fics 🙏❤️ Here’s mine :) The title is from Wolf like me by TV on the radio
ao3 | masterlist | part 2
Joel was pretty well known at the QZ. He had the reputation of a distant man, not meddling in other people's affairs and hating people meddling in his own. He carried out the worst tasks, those that paid the most. It was impossible to know what shenanigans he was getting into with Tess, the woman he was often seen with. Impossible to know why he sometimes met FEDRA soldiers on the sidelines, but without really hiding it, as if he knew that no one would dare bother him.
You worked for Robert and you knew that his relationship with Joel was tense. So for some time now, when Robert needed something from Joel, he went through you. Every time you met him, Joel lived up to his reputation. He grumbled more than spoke, he was not very verbose, he did not bother with manners and was barely polite. He used to roll his eyes an embarrassing number of times at you, like you were the stupidest person in the world. However, he didn't impress you, and one day, you caught a grin when you responded to him in a biting tone.
That’s probably how you ended up on your knees in front of him one evening, his cock in your mouth and his fist clenched in your hair. His massive hand on the back of your head holding you exactly how he wanted, while he was fucking your throat without worrying about the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
He let go of you, and ordered you to get on the bed, “cheek against the pillow and ass in the air.” 
You looked up at him, without immediately obeying, and he pointed to the bed with his chin. You got up and settled in, unable to resist his directive tone. When he knelt behind you, his fat cock in his hand, ready to push it into your core, you freed yourself from his hand, asking him to wait.
“Wait for what exactly, little girl?”
In someone else's mouth, this pet name might have been cute. Or kind. But in his, you felt like a helpless little thing in the hands of a man much more powerful than you.
“Wait until I’m prepared,” you whispered.
“Do you think I’m gonna make love to you, baby girl?”
He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your response which didn't come.
“Cause I don’t make love. I fuck hard. So either you take my fuckin’ cock the way I wanna give it to you, or you get the fuck outta here.”
You let him fuck you the way he wanted, your teeth digging into the flesh of your hand to keep you from screaming, while his fingers were firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. He pulled out just before he came, grabbing your arm for you to follow him to the side of the bed. His feet planted on the ground, he jerked himself into his clenched fist until spurts of cum covered your face.
Stunned by his animality, you didn't move before he pushed you down onto the floor, and he plunged into you, his tongue dipping into your aching pussy. He ate you as he had fucked you just before: like a hungry beast devouring its wounded prey. His fingers were everywhere, on your clit, in your pussy and in your ass. Yours were buried in his curls, clawing at his scalp, making him grunt against your folds until you came, exhausted, and finally relaxed your muscles that had been contracting until then, under the assaults he had inflicted on you.
Of course, he didn't walk you home. He didn’t even say a word to you, to be honest. He barely watched you wipe away the cum that was still on your cheeks.
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You continued to meet Joel on Robert's behalf, and you returned to his apartment several times.
Every time he fucked you, you felt like you were being tossed around in dark waters, the movement of which seemed strangely familiar to you. And above all, the feeling gave you the confirmation that you were still alive.
Joel wanted to own, to take. And you wanted to be owned, creating a perfect balance between you. You were giving him everything he wanted. Your body was always adapting to his, whatever hole he thrusted into. He probably licked and smelled every inch of your skin. Left bite marks on your body, as if his cock deep inside you wasn't enough, as if he needed to sink his teeth into your skin. Needed to show everyone that you were his. That you had been claimed. “I want you to use my body whenever and however you want”, you told him once. And he did. Days after days.
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As soon as you closed the door to his apartment behind you, you felt that the atmosphere was heavier than usual. He was sitting near the dining room table, facing the front door, and you.
“Who was it?”, he asked, in an annoyed voice, so low you barely heard him, while his fist was clenched on the table.
"Who are you talking about?"
“That boy, with you near the guardhouse this afternoon.” He spat out the sentence, his jaw clenched, the sound of his voice barely reaching your ears.
“He’s one of Robert’s guys, he’s not a boy,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. He stood up suddenly and slammed you against the wall with surprising agility for a man of his build. His hand pressed against your throat, his face lowered towards you, you only saw his dark eyes.
“You let him fuck you?” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.
“No, damn, Joel…”, you whispered.
He released his grip slightly and breathed down your neck, then moved up to your ear, as if to make sure that he would only smell your scent on you.
“Mine,” he murmured, his nose in your hair, his hand sliding from your throat to one of your breasts which he grabbed.
“Yours”, you breathed in his ear, your hand clinging to his bicep.
“I’m gonna be brutal, baby doll.”
“I know.”
He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his hard cock, before grabbing your thighs and lifting you off the ground. He pushed aside the panties under your dress, and positioned his tip at your entrance. He looked at you, daring you with his gaze to tell him to wait. But it’s been a long time now since you asked him to be prepared. You only wanted to feel him more. Always more. And the faster he plunged into you, the more intoxicating the sensation was.
He sank in, his gaze boring into yours as his cock split your pussy. In one push he bottomed out. He pulled back almost all the way and thrusted in again, after tilting his pelvis so that you impaled yourself as deep as possible on his shaft. Breathless, you grabbed his shoulders to try to ease the way you were taking his cock. But he placed his arm against your back and tightened his hand on the back of your neck, trapping you in his embrace. He pounded you against the wall, and you were whimpering at each stroke of his cock.
“You’re mine”, he said again, thrusting in. “You belong to me, only my cock can fuck this cunt. You hear me, little girl?”
“Fuck… Yes Joel! Just you.”
“Not only your cunt. Everything. I want only my smell on you.”
He grabbed your chin in his hand, looking at you questioningly. You nodded and said “only you.”
“Good girl. Come here.”
He released you and grabbed your arm, squeezing it way too tightly with his large hand, before throwing you onto the bed. He was standing in front of you, his pants just under his balls, still covering his thick thighs. His hand was tight on his cock, glistening with your wetness. You could see the vein in his neck pulsing.
He spat into his palm before jerking off harshly while watching you.
“Joel”, you whimpered. “Please I want-”
“You’ll have that cock when I’ll give it to you”, he cut you off.
“Please Joel, use me”, you whined again.
“Jesus, you need my cock that bad? Get on all fours, then. And take off your clothes.”
You undressed and watched him remove his clothes, before waiting for him on your hands and knees. The bed sank under his weight as he knelt behind you. He ran his hands from your neck to the small of your back. He reveled in your eagerness, seeing your ass pushed back towards him. You wanted him to use you, the way he wanted. He placed his cock at your entrance, and thrusted in slowly. So slowly that it was almost more painful than when he would suddenly stick it in you. Like a bandage that you gently remove instead of ripping it off all at once. You felt your pussy spread painfully to let his cock sink in. You felt his skin warming you up from the inside. He kept thrusting, and you realized that you had been holding your breath since he dove in you. You breathed deeply, keeping yourself from moving backwards and impaling yourself on his cock in one blow. You knew he wanted to control the pace, and you wanted him to act that way. You wanted to be in pain, to feel things as intensely as possible, and for as long as possible.
You felt so fragile and vulnerable, with his massive hands on you and his cock piercing you. And at the same time, you had never felt so safe. Nothing could happen to you, with him.
Finally his cock bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled back and thrusted in with a brutal move this time, as you reflexively leaned forward. He tightened his embrace, threatening “don’t you dare. You’re gonna take my cock, as I want you to take it.” You bit your lip and nodded.
You heard him spit and you shivered as you felt his saliva reach your ass, his thumb immediately coming up to push it into your ring. You heard him grunt behind your back, guessing his contemplation between keeping fucking your pussy or claiming your ass. With a snort, he pulled out, dipping his tongue against your ass, lapping flat. You heard him jerking off into his fist and part of you hoped to see him desperate to the point of cumming against the sheets without having time to fuck you. But his primal instinct for possession was the strongest, and he positioned himself against your ring once he felt you would be able to take it.
He pushed, and you waited quietly, controlling your breath, until the tip was fully in.
“Oh fuck, Joel…”
“Always ready to take it in your ass, right?”
“I…fuck. Yeah. I can always take it.”
“Good girl”, he praised, as he thrusted in suddenly, the brutality of his action clashing with the sound of his voice. You didn't have time to say a word, he was already pulling back before burying himself again, showing you once more that you were his, pinching your hips, and you knew that the morning after your skin there would be blue.
“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said, pulling back and manhandling you to turn around.
You lay on your back, and he grabbed the back of your knees to bring them closer to your shoulders before thrusting in. The position made the penetration so deep that you thought he was actually going to tear you in half. His growls were more animalistic than human and you lost yourself in their sounds. 
“Look”, he said. “Look at my cock, ruining your ass.”
He pulled his torso away from yours and you looked down, where your bodies were one.
“Fuck, baby doll. Look. You’re taking it so good.”
“Joel... Let off all your steam. Use me for that.”
“Shit you’re…you never get enough of that cock.”
He fucked you, probably harder than ever, and you couldn't feel your body anymore.
“Lose yourself in me”, he told you, looking at you as if he was reading you. “I’m here for it”, he added. You came, hearing him, your clit rubbing against his lower stomach.
Burying in your ass, he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them above your head, placing his mouth against your armpit, licking away the beads of sweat hidden there and growling against your skin.
“Jo…fuck. Joel.”
“Mmmm?”, he growled.
“The sounds you make, when you fuck me. I…- fuck.. I feel so full - …I love these sounds.”
For the first time, you thought you saw a loss of control in him, and you tried to catch his gaze. When he froze inside you and shot the hot spurts of cum into your ass, all you could think about was the dark waves you were floating in, and you came a second time on his cock.
You got dressed and as you were leaving he grabbed you, holding you against him like no one had ever done before. He held you so tight that it was painful, but you would have let him crack one of your ribs if it would allow you to continue this embrace. When he released you, you tried to meet his gaze again, but he had already turned away from you.
When you got back to your apartment, you knew you were screwed. Fucking with him, letting him use you in any possible way, was no longer enough.
Part 2
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Thank you for reading 🙏
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️
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heartlesscorpse · 3 months
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Ghostface HCs ⋆。°✩👻🔪
Wahoo, more Ghostfaceeee. Ghostface brainrot be really taking over tho gadayum, Danny gonna drill a hole into my fucking brain; unlike Pyramid Head as he pretty much made a crater. Smh, I’m rambling too much and Imma move on from that now — yeah slightly busy week but pushing through in the mean time and having Ghostface for some fuckin’ motivation. Some nsfw shit will be mentioned and possibly some gore but nonetheless, this’ll be a fun one boys. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_
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OKAY getting this shit out of the way first but Slipknot do be hitting hard for me atm and I gotta say it’s either Vermilion or Prosthetics that give me massive brainrot and Ghostface vibes.
It’s a possibility I might even write a mini fic based off of Prosthetics ngl, now there’s a fuckin’ thought.
It’s either some dumbass banter or flirting between you and Ghostface, never an in between. Most of the time 90% of whatever flirtatious remarks comes out of Danny’s mouth is a joke, but at the same time he’s also not fuckin’ kidding.
“Baby what that tongue do?” “Lick my fingers. To turn the pages of the Bible for sinners like you.”
Get ready for some nightly fucking shenanigans because Ghostface is going to drop in when you least expect it.
Despite being the flirtatious bastard he is, Danny can get clingy at times.
Like this man could demand cuddles and if you refuse he will just tie you up and have his cuddles anyways because he doesn’t give a shit if you say no. He does what he wants anyways.
He’ll have you lying there tied up and helpless on your bed, listening to whatever fuckin’ rants he’s going on about, probably something about his night or maybe shit talking about another resident in Roseville he plans to kill in some few days. ┐( ̄ヮ ̄)┌
By the time he’s leaving he might’ve took something small of yours for keeping, not like you were gonna notice much of a difference anyways. And you’re definitely not gonna get it back.
Besides stalking his chosen targets for his next kill, Ghostface still keeps his tabs on you whenever he doesn’t happen to show up inside your home or phone in. Either he’d take some photos on random occasions while you’re in public, keeping lost items of yours, might’ve ended up building a small shrine out of that shit ngl.
It’s almost hilarious but at the same time it isn’t, because Ghostface swore to himself he would never build some sort of attachment towards his victims or anybody in general but then you came along and somehow changed that shit. 💀💀
Might’ve found out your text tbh so he could annoy you for endless hours during the day when he’s not around and playing himself as Jed and working at the Gazette.
Did I forget to mention how possessive he is??? Man’s honestly lucky to have some restraint and composure seeing some other people talking to you and breathing the same fuckin’ air otherwise he would’ve killed them already by the next night, this shit don’t apply to that drunkard who was harassing you the one Saturday night you went out to the bar with friends though. That shit was justified in his opinion.
There’s either two reasons and two reasons only why Ghostface would’ve made a drop inside your house, either this man is wanting attention from you and to talk, or this mfer is horny as shit. There’s no in-between.
Dude’s into kinky shit you name it, stuff like: bondage, blood play, knife play, things like that. Blood play might’ve been off the table for the first half however he might’ve brought it up some time around when you got comfy enough where you weren’t constantly having to get into some cat fight with the guy.
Might I add, the first time he met you and he was picking you off as one of his victims he got a fuckin’ hard-on from your fear and seeing the bit of blood smeared on your arms or cheeks while you were fighting for your life.
Mirror sex, semi-public sex, a quickie, phone sex, dude’s up for some small bit of risks and that mainly goes with semi-public ofc because he finds it fun and adds more spice to the situation.
He’s still paying close in mind wherever he does it so he himself isn’t getting caught in that position with you and shit would somehow escalate. He doesn’t do it often a lot but maybe to some rare occasion or something like that.
He likes hearing you beg and looking like an absolute flustered mess under him. 😌
Rough sex is also a big yes, he doesn’t do it gentle much but it might’ve happened in some rare chances even if you didn’t ask for it.
Mask stays on babes he’s not taking it off during sex.
He’s also pushing you to overstimulation because he can and will, and he takes fuckin’ joy out of it >:))
Gets a small power trip out of it too, knowing he’s the one driving you insane this way and making you plead for his cock.
Shhh that’s just his way of showing how much he loves you.
He’s pretty good with aftercare, cuddles in bed afterwards and a short nap in the mean time before morning where he’ll have to bounce by then and get to work.
☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐
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constantcrisis19 · 1 year
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Making Progress
Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O
AN: So I did a thing. I was dragged into the COD fandom kicking and screaming and now I can't get the skull man or the feral Scot out of my head. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2,172
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You gracelessly slumped into one of the seats that lined the right wall of the helo's hull with a relieved groan that probably wasn't all that appropriate outside of certain bedroom activities if the several wide-eyed stares you suddenly found aimed your way by the soldiers dutifully filing into the bird was any indication, but you were much too tired to care about the mix of shocked and judgmental looks being thrown your way.
You still had your headphones on, the low bass music humming through the speakers keeping your hands from shaking like they wanted to when you weren't holding a weapon. The weariness that seemed intent on weighing down your frame reared its ugly head now that you were coming down from the rush of adrenaline that you got every time you went out into the field. 
You leaned your head back on the metal wall behind your chosen seat and closed your eyes, not even bothering to buckle yourself in as you instead focused on taking deep breaths, the floor under your boots vibrating as the rest of your haggard team moved about to secure the helo for lift off. 
You figured that it wouldn’t be much longer before they closed the bay doors to seal them in if the faint rumbling sound of the engine warming up echoing through the hull as the massive blades atop the helo slowly began to spin was any indication. 
You were distracted from your musings when you heard someone take the open seat next to you. You looked over to see none other than Ghost, the man not bothering to even look up from his task to meet your questioning stare as he meticulously buckled in.
A silent and awkward tension slowly built up between you two, and Ghost still hadn't even offered a word of greeting.
You were about to break the silence with something when the helo began picking up speed, its blades spinning faster and louder and causing you to quickly buckle your own seat belt without even thinking about it, the noise of the engine drowning out the music that you had been listening to.
The helo slowly began to rise into the air as its rotors reached the speed needed for it to lift off, moving up until you could see the city below through the windows getting smaller.
You lifted a hand up to grab your headphones, shifting one of the earpads away from your ear to rest against the side of your head before you decided to break the silence yourself, clearing your throat nervously before speaking.
"Been a hell of a day, huh, sir?" You said while staring at the side of Ghost's head, his intimidating skull mask blocking your view of his face as you tried to break the ice.
The only response you got from Ghost was a slight grunt, his mask not moving from his straight and relaxed staring. His complete lack of emotion made it feel as if he hadn't even heard you, his only other reaction being him shifting his gun to the side, the barrel pointed off behind him. And, after a few more seconds of silence, he finally spoke up again. "Yes. It has."
"What are you gonna do to unwind when we get back? I personally feel that we could all do with a nap." You stated with a longing sigh, you desperately missed your bed but, at the rate that you were going, you'd be willing to lay on a slab of concrete if it meant that you could get a few uninterrupted hours of sleep.
"Nothing." Ghost stated coldly, his answer blunt and almost unnaturally calm. He didn't seem to be annoyed or anything, just that simple answer of 'nothing'. "You?"
You blinked at him for a moment, caught off guard by Ghost actually actively engaging you in conversation by prompting you to give an answer of your own. "Uh, I was thinking that I'd take a shower and then crawl into bed and stay there until somebody checks up on me to make sure I haven't suddenly up and died." You replied with a shrug before squinting at Ghost curiously. "You really have absolutely no routine to come down from such a shitty mission?"
"No."
Again, his response was short and blunt, no trace of any emotion in his voice as he stared out into nothing. His lack of any kind of routine was almost eerie, it was as if he simply didn't have a need for it, as if he simply had no reaction whatsoever to the exhausting and life-threatening events that you and the rest of the squad constantly got dragged into.
"Come on, Lt, there's gotta be something. Humor me." You prompted with a good-natured smile, and Ghost finally turned his head to level his dull, brown eyes at you.
"I sit in the dark. Sometimes for hours. And I think." Ghost responded simply, the fact that his eyes didn't betray a single hint of emotion even as he described this almost frighteningly dark process he went through after each mission only made that statement even more unsettling.
"Jesus." You breathed in response, not even sure if a paid therapist could successfully unpack all that laid beneath such a simple statement. "You like tea, right?" You asked a little bit desperately. "Why don't you try making a cup for yourself when we get back? I'll even join you if you'd like?"
You weren't even that big a fan of tea, but you'd tolerate the less than desirable taste if it meant that Ghost didn't sit in his room, in the dark, all by himself.
"Tea?" Ghost questioned blankly, still staring at you with that same cold, blank expression on his face, a slight head tilt accompanying his question as if it had simply never occurred to him to take up such an action. He then stayed silent for a few moments as he thought over the idea, before eventually responding in a soft yet simple, non-committal way. "Why not."
"Cool. Do you have a specific flavor of tea that you tend to gravitate towards?" You asked, feeling proud of the progress you've made in engaging Ghost in conversation so far. The man was antisocial, sure, but that didn't mean that he was impossible to talk to, it just meant that it took a little bit of elbow grease to get him to loosen up.
"...earl gray." Ghost stated with that same non-emotional blankness. It almost sounded more as if he was reciting his tea preference, like it was something that he had been programmed to say, rather than an actual personal decision.
"Oh, jeez. Could you be any more British?" You teased with a lighthearted grin.
"What would you like?" Ghost continued, countering your question with a question of his own, and completely ignoring your comment about his tea preferences.
You thought about it for a moment, tipping your head back against the metal hull behind you to squint up at the bright fluorescent lights that lit up the enclosed space before answering. "I'm personally fond of London Fog. Though, I feel inclined to warn you that it's very sweet."
The tea you liked took copious amounts of both milk and sugar to make, but you had one hell of a sweet tooth so you believed that it was very much worth the potential cavities. That being said, you figured that Ghost most likely wouldn’t enjoy London Fog tea since you’ve never even seen him use sugar in his own preferred tea on the rare occasion he had some free time to make some. 
"I see." Ghost said in a slightly more questioning tone than usual, a sign that your comment about the tea being sweet had caught him off guard. Still, he didn't show any signs of dislike about the idea, and instead kept up his same blank stare as he considered this new information.
"Alright." He then said, seemingly approving of your choice.
"Perfect." You stated with a wide grin, feeling pleased as pie that you managed to rope the infamously reclusive Ghost into some social interaction with you.
"Oh! I have a playlist that I usually play to help me wind down and it's become kind of a habit to listen to it after missions. You don't mind if I were to play it aloud while we drink tea, do you?" You asked when the thought came to you, looking at Ghost imploringly and hoping that he wouldn't mind.
"I don't mind."
This time, Ghost replied in a slightly more casual tone, his statement sounding more like him stating an honest personal answer rather than merely a programmed response.
He then gave a simple nod as he added, "You can play it."
Your smile widened, an intense feeling of giddiness rising inside you as you realized that Ghost was warming up to you, the man's slow but steady emergence from his shell making you bold. "Do you listen to any music?"
This question seemed to catch Ghost off guard a little bit, a noticeable flinching of his eyebrows in surprise as a slow and confused nod crept up on his face.
"Rarely." He said hesitantly, seeming deep in thought for a few moments as he was clearly struggling to remember a song. "Classical, usually."
Your eyes widened as you stared at him incredulously. Heavy metal, sure you could see him listening to that angry stuff. Alternate, yeah maybe certain starving artists that sang about their like trauma and struggles or something. But classical? Never in a million years would you have guessed that the dark, brooding Ghost listened to classical music and if anybody would have suggested it, you would've laughed in their face.
"No way." You laughed, not unkindly, and lightly nudged his shoulder with your own, barely enough force to even jostle him since the last thing you wanted was for him to see the gesture as some sort of attack. "Who's your favorite composer?"
"...Beethoven." Ghost said simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "You?" He then asked after a short pause.
"You know... that actually makes a lot of sense." You mused as you stretched your arms over your head. From what you remembered of Beethoven's compositions, most of them were dark, powerful swells of music that scratched a very specific itch in the back of your hindbrain. "As for my favorite, I'll have to go with Bach."
"...Bach." Ghost echoed blandly, as if he were trying out the name for the first time and figuring how it sounded. After a few seconds, he replied. "What do you like about him?"
Ghost had never shown much curiosity to anything outside the scope of his usual tasks or duties, so seeing him so interested in such a mundane topic was... intriguing, to say the least.
"I guess I just like powerful music that tells a story and makes you feel something, ya know?" You said as you slouched back in your seat as much as the straps would let you.
"Powerful." Ghost echoed the word in a slow, monotonous drawl, and seemed to mull over the word for a few seconds before speaking again. "Define 'powerful' in this context."
He seemed oddly fixated on this particular word.
"The slow crescendo into a thunderous roar as the climax of the composition hits... until that intense mix of harmonies are all that's ringing in your ears... I suppose a word that I could've used instead of powerful could be 'all-consuming'." You gesticulated as you spoke. You were very passionate about music, as evidenced by how animated you became while rambling.
Ghost nodded slowly, seeming to consider your words as his unblinking, unmoving stare pierced through the helo's hull.
"And Bach's music makes you feel that way?"
There was that same note of mild surprise in his voice as he spoke, as if he couldn't quite believe you were able to describe the sensation so clearly.
"Yeah, I can add a few of my favorites to my playlist, just for you if you're interested." You said with a smile, only half teasing. There was no doubt in your mind that if Ghost did end up saying yes, you would absolutely add some classical tracks to your wind down playlist, if not to further encourage future get-togethers with you and maybe broaden his music tastes in the process.
Ghost stayed silent for another few moments, his face turning into a slight and rare grin as he found something genuinely amusing about what you had said.
"Sure." Ghost said simply, once again with that simple, neutral tone of voice. "...Thanks."
It was his first instance of genuine kindness throughout this entire short conversation, a small thank you that he added on in a soft, genuinely appreciative tone. He even flashed you a faint yet real smile, and while it was brief, it was more than most people had seen from him.
It was progress.
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zprites · 1 year
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June TMNT All 4-1!
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It's time. The man, the myth, the legend... It's Bayverse Raphael! This month's prompt came to me surprisingly quickly as compared to some of the previous months so I'm riding this high!
The lovely hosts: @turtle-babe83, @thelaundrybitch, and @leosgirl82 <3
Prompt I chose: “Well, that didn’t go as planned…”
Bayverse! Raph x Female! Reader - SFW
As always, the turtles and reader are both well into their 20s!
Enjoy! <333
Taglist: @turtle-babe83, @manduse, @morning-sun-brah, @crazysarah-98, @pacoholin, @iamdefinitelytheratking
Summer Loving
If words fail… She'll know what I mean If words fail… She'll just take my hand She sees me like no one else has If words fail… She'll understand When Words Fail - Brian D’Arcy James
"C'mon you slowpoke!" You called back to Raph, your voice reverberating off the  walls of the sewer. 
"You know I can easily catch up to you, right?" Raph said, keeping a modest distance between the two of you. You gathered he was being slow on purpose, probably because he wanted to let you win a race for once, but you weren't having it. 
You knew what would happen if he caught up to you. So you goaded him on.
"I'd like to see you try, old fart!" You hollered before breaking out in a full on sprint, smiling widely as you rounded the corner. 
You heard the telltale sounds of him rapidly approaching you, heavy footsteps breaking through your constant giggles until he was right behind you. He reached out and ran his fingers along your sides, knowing it was one of your ticklish spots, causing you to squeal and try to squirm out of his grasp. 
"Raph! Let me go!" You managed to get out.
He didn't let up. "What was that you called me? An 'old fart'?"
"Okay, okay! You're not an old fart! You're a young one! A baby fart even! Please! I'm gonna pee!!" Tears welled up in your eyes as your cheeks quickly began to grow sore from the enormous grin on your face.
Thankfully he ceased his attack, allowing you to catch your breath. "So I'm a baby fart now?" He raised a brow ridge at you.
You slowly collected yourself before nodding. He let out a chuckle while shaking his head. "Suppose that's better than an old one."
"I don't know, you are kind of old." You teased. 
"I'm only a month older than you. Besides, if I was really old, I wouldn't be about to do this." He promptly picked you up, easily settling you against his chest with a singular muscular arm. 
You rolled your eyes in a playful manner. “Okay show-off. You made your point.”
He gave a breathy laugh as he set out further into the sewers, fully intent on carrying you the rest of the way. 
Not that you were complaining. You planned for this after all, knowing after he caught up with you he would opt to hold you in his arms for the remainder of the walk, like he always did. You used to question it but always got a simple ‘It’s faster this way’, so you’ve learned over the years to just accept it. 
After being away for five months at a time you found yourself wanting him to carry you at every opportunity when you were back home. Like now.
You decided to go out of state for your graduate program, wanting to further your education in data science at a gorgeous university located in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Thankfully you only had two more semesters left and with each break you came  back to your hometown, staying with the turtles who graciously opened up their home to you since your family had moved out of the country during your previous semester. You used to live with April but since you began school in Colorado, she moved in with her boyfriend, Casey Jones. 
You didn’t mind. In fact, you were glad you were staying with the brothers who you had come to consider family. You looked back on the night you met them with fondness - April trying to shield their hulking forms in her living room when you raided the kitchen at 2am, squinting at the massive mutants behind her in the dim light, tension filling the air until you asked them, in your sleep-addled stupor, if they wanted some late night nachos. Five plates of nachos later and the rest was history. 
Over the past two weeks you spent as much time as possible catching up with the turtles. Leo joined you in yoga and meditation some mornings, Donnie enthusiastically discussed everything you learned while looking over your notes and textbooks (which you always let him keep), and Mikey was glad to have another person to paint with again. 
And Raph, well anytime you weren’t hanging out with his brothers you could be found by his side. The two of you did everything together, from watching movies to singing along while he played his guitar. However one of your favorite pastimes was when the two of you would lay opposite of each other on his bed, him knitting while you read outloud, your legs resting against his. It was comforting, those moments. 
Which did nothing to help your ever growing crush on the mutant terrapin. Soon after meeting him you were instantly smitten, feeling your heartbeat pick up whenever he glanced your way, or when he smiled at you, or when his hand would sometimes rest on your leg, running his fingers along your calf almost lovingly, causing you to stutter while you tried desperately to focus on the words you were reading to him. 
Yeah, you were fucked…
Raph was your best friend and while the others would text you everyday while you were out of state, he was the one who always wished you a ‘good morning’ when you woke up for classes and a ‘good night’ when you headed to bed. At least once a week he would call you up when he knew you were in bed, talking to you for hours until you both inevitably fell asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. He made you feel special, as if you were the most important person in his life. 
And you supposed you were, since he told you so earlier when he tried to kiss you.
Okay, in your defense you should have seen this coming, but you figured he wasn't interested in you in a romantic sense, so you kept your feelings to yourself all those years. You told yourself that his wandering gazes and lingering touches were nothing more than what they were, just fixed looks and accidental brushes of skin. Oh how wrong you were.
For not even four hours ago the two of you were cleaning up after dinner, alone in the kitchen. You made a passing joke, one that might have been self-deprecating in nature, but it seemed to have caused something in him to snap since he took you by the shoulders and… 
Well, if you had the tiniest sliver of uncertainty in regards to his feelings for you before, you definitely didn't now.
He confessed everything, from how he was captivated by your laughter and smile from the very beginning to how you occupied his every waking thought. How he missed you when you were gone and always treasured every second he spent with you, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side.
If only Mikey chose to barge into the kitchen a few seconds later, not when Raph's lips were only centimeters away from your own. 
You bit your lip as you thought about that moment, remembering the sincerity in his voice, the way his warm breath tickled your face, the feel of his rough skin on your cheek. 
And you were hell bent on getting that kiss tonight, through hell or high water. You had just the activity in mind to set the mood just right for that to happen, and thankfully when you suggested it to him he agreed. 
“We’re here.” 
Raph’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He had stopped at the ladder that led to the more affluent part of Staten Island, shifting you in his arms as he grabbed the rung closest to him. 
“Better hold on tight, spider monkey.”
Your full-bellied laugh rang through the tunnels as he began his ascent, your arms looping tightly around his neck. Soon the two of you were in the middle of the suburban street. Using the dark of the night to his advantage he kept to the shadows, keeping the two of you out of sight despite it being almost midnight. You pointed out a house to him and he moved towards it. A quick peek over the backyard fence confirmed that this house had what you two were looking for and effortlessly hopped the two of you over the fence with you still in his arms. 
Raph finally put you down and you immediately slid out of your flip-flops, the cool grass beneath your feet felt heavenly as you walked closer to the large in-ground pool. You bent down and tested the water’s temperature with your hand.
“It’s a bit cold, but thankfully it looks like no one is home to hear you bitch.” You teased, standing back up to your full height.
He let out a huff. “I don’t bitch. You’re the one who squeals like a little girl when the water… isn’t…”
He trailed off as he watched you get out of the oversized shirt you wore over your swimsuit, letting it fall to the ground and fully revealing your bikini-clad body to him. You looked at him over your shoulder, a knowing gleam in your eyes.
“When the water isn’t what?”
His mouth opened and closed several times as his eyes raked over your form. If this were anyone else you would have smacked them or at the very least yell at them for ogling you, but this was Raph, and now that you knew how he felt, you felt nothing but flattery for the way he took the sight of you in.
“Hello? Earth to Raph…” 
He blinked and shook his head, as if he was trying to get rid of whatever mental image he had conjured up.
“Just get in the pool.” He grumbled, already taking off his gloves. 
You snickered and took a few steps back from the pool’s edge, knowing getting in the chilly water would be easier if you jumped in. So you did, cannonballing into the pool with a modest sized splash. 
Surprisingly enough your body adjusted to the water temperature rather quickly as you began moving gently across the water’s surface, seeing that Raph was now busy removing his knee pads.
“Any day now.” You taunted.
You couldn’t hear what he said in response because you went underwater, doing a few flips as you waited for him to join you. Finally he lowered himself into the chlorine water, wearing only his shorts. 
As you came up for air you were prompt splashed. Raph chuckled as you sputtered.
“Really?!”
You were met with another splash.
“Alright, that’s it!”
The two of you started an all out war, attacking each other with never-ending barrages of water. Soon you had to surrender as there was no way to win against his powerful sprays he produced with ease while you struggled to land any hits on him. He basked in his victory, letting out several whoops while you snuck around behind him, latching onto his shell and pulling back with all your might, effectively sending both of you under the water. 
You broke the surface and giggled as you felt his hands come to your waist before he joined you, his own laughs intermingling with yours in the quiet of the night.
Eventually the amusement of the situation died down. The two of you stayed that way, simply enjoying each other's presence while crickets chirped in the distance. He was crouched in the five-foot deep water so that he was eye level with you, holding you above the surface since he knew your mouth would be submerged if you were to fully stand. Time seemed to slow down as you stared into his golden eyes. 
You decided now was the time to lure him in. 
“Did you really mean what you said?” You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. 
Hook…
He seemed confused so you clarified for him. "What you said, back in the kitchen…"
Raph frowned while you felt the hands on your waist tighten their hold. "You think I would joke about something like that?" 
You hummed, your own hands coming to run along his shoulders and upper arms in a repeated motion. "No, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
Line…
His breath hitched as you gave him a gentle smile. It took him a moment before he licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak but no words left him. This continued for a bit until he shook his head and let out a sigh. “Sorry, I’m… Having a hard time thinking right now.”
“That’s okay, take your time.”
Raph took a deep breath. “I just… There’s not much I can say that I haven’t already said.”
One of your hands moved to cup his cheek, running your thumb across the pebbled green skin. 
His gaze never left yours as you felt him nuzzle into your caress. 
“You’re everything to me.” His voice was low, as if he was afraid this was all a dream. “You… You have this way of making me feel like I really am someone; not just a giant mutant turtle, but an actual person. I know I can’t give you a lot, but I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you. And…”
He trailed off as his eyes glanced down to your lips so quickly that you would have missed it if you blinked. 
“And…?” You breathed out.
“And I really want to kiss you.”
Got him.
"Well, good…" You leaned in a bit closer to him before continuing. "Because I really want you to kiss me."
 His eyes widened at your admission. The seconds ticked by as you allowed him time to gather his nerves. Finally he began to close the distance between you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed your eyes once his lips were a hair’s width from yours.
“MOMMY!! There’s a strange lady in the pool!”
The two of you froze.
“And she’s kissing an alien!”
Shit… Guess someone was home after all…
In your periphery you could see a small boy running back inside the home and several lights turn on, most likely from his mother checking to see what all the commotion is about. 
“Run?”
Just as the question left your lips, Raph picked you up once more and hauled the two of you out of the pool.
He gathered up both of your belongings in one arm while he held you with the other, getting the two of you back into the sewers as quickly as possible before being seen again, jumping down into the dark tunnels and replacing the manhole cover with a skill that came with years of practice.
In the dead silence of the sewers the two of you gave one quick look at each other before devolving into fits of laughter. He gently set you down before handing you your sandals and shirt. 
“Well, that didn’t go as planned…” You jested while you tugged your shirt over your head, the hem reaching your knees due to how large it was. Beside you Raph was busy securing his knee pads back on.
He chuckled while you slid on your flip-flops. “No, but that ain’t stopping me anymore.”
“Oh?” You asked, mouth curving into a smile. 
Raph tossed aside his gloves and reached for you, pulling you towards him before he promptly pressed his lips against yours. 
Yeah, definitely worth the wait…
315 notes · View notes
cablecar-s · 2 months
Text
to love and self loathe
part 1 part 2 part 3
I'm Just A Guy, With A Boomerang!
Okay, so maybe she was a tiny bit rusty as being Spider-Woman. No big deal, just a few more days or nights being in the suit and she can-
Wait- No, this was supposed to be the only and last time she was even putting on the suit. It was just a precaution! You know, if the other vigilantes weren't able to make it because of the decoy or whatever Black Mask was planning.
. . .
God what was she doing...?
Swinging from building to building, she headed into the direction of Wayne Manor. Except, she soon found out just how far the manor was from the city. By the time she made it to the manor, just on the edge of the forest where she saw the clearing of the rather large and gothic mansion, she was quite literally out of breath.
"Damn rich people..." She wheezed, slightly panting as she tried to catch her breath. Once her breathing went back to normal, she climbed over the aging stone wall and jogged over to the massive building. 
Scaling up the wall, she peeked through the multiple windows, making mental notes to herself as she continued to go through each window.
"Now if I were a bunch of thugs, where would I-"
And as if on cue, a large explosion shook the mansion, smoke coming out from one of the sides of the mansion.
"There, I would be over there." She sighed out.
Quickly crawling her way over, she let herself inside the very large ballroom, trying her best to not gawk at how fancy it looked whilst crawling on the ceiling.
"Nobody move! Or the brat gets it!" 
Looking down, everyone was in a state of panic while a thug with a black mask held a young boy hostage, a gun to his head.
With the smoke slightly clearing up, she had taken note that there were about 8 men, and they were all armed, wonderful.
All of them were shoving through the crowd of rich folks, seeming to look for someone in particular. While they were busy doing that, she quietly dropped down, trying to use the smoke and people, hopefully they didn't scream out when they saw her.
"Sorry, pardon me." She quietly whispered, squeezing past the many expensive suits and dresses. "I like the tie." She complimented, though everyone just gawked at her as she put a finger up to where her lips were supposed to be as she made her way over to one of the thugs.
"Hey." She called out, poking the thug's shoulder.
"Wha-" Turning around, about to aim his gun at her, she quickly webbed his mouth shut with one hand while the other had shot out a web to take hold of his gun to take it out from his hand. Shooting out another web to wrap his upper body, she jabbed the butt of the assault rifle into his stomach, causing him to let out a muffle 'oomph!'.
Stumbling back from the impact, she gave him a simple push into the wall before using her webs to keep the man stuck to the wall.
Dusting off her hands, she soon took notice of the many rich folks who only looked at her in bafflement. A bit embarrassed at the attention, the Spider cleared her throat, pointing behind her shoulder.
"I should.. I should probably go." Raising her hand up, she had her web shooter pull herself back up onto the ceiling, crawling on her hands and feet to get to whichever criminal she saw next.
For the next 20 minutes, she was able to take down two more guys before the hostage situation had gotten worse.
Finishing up with keeping one of Black Mask's stuck to the ceiling, the sound of laughter from Mask's men had garnered her attention.
"Now we're getting somewhere." The man holding Damian grinned cynically. Just opposite of him was another one of the criminals, now having Bruce Wayne as a hostage, another gun pressed to his head.
"Alright Mr. Philanthropist, you're gonna listen closely and do as we say: Within 24 hours you're gonna give us 20 billion in exchange for the brat." Damian's hostage tightened his grip around his neck, pressing the gun even closer to the pre-teen's skull.
"I will kill you all." Damian hissed out, but he was only met with getting hit with the gun, making him grunt in pain.
"Shut the hell up." His captor growled out.
"You can have the 20 billion, just leave my son out of this." Bruce said, doing his best in trying to stay calm.
The man only cackled, the sound of his gun cocking, his finger now hovering over the trigger. "We're gonna need the 20 billion first Mr. Wayne."
"Ahem."
All heads quickly swiveled to the sound, only to see Spider-Woman standing there, almost a bit awkwardly.
"Didn't know we were supposed to bring guns to a party as fancy as this." She commented.
It went silent for a moment.
Okay.. Great start.
"Who the fuck are you?" The young Wayne's captor hissed out.
"Oh you know," She let out a small nervous huff. "Just a passerby, thought I would take a look around Gotham and all." She waved a hand nonchalantly. "And you know, it's really nice in Gotham, well, of course, minus all the crime and guys trying to mug an innocent bystander every ten minutes."
She continued to ramble, her arms moving about.
People only looked at her like she was crazy, and honestly? She couldn't blame them.
She herself had no idea what in the hell she was doing, she just hoped she could find herself an opening before the situation escalated any more than it already has.
At some point, the captors were getting irritated, now finding her ramblings tiring.
"Would someone get rid of this bitch already!?" One of them yelled out.
In that moment, her senses tingled, but everything had almost gone in slow motion as the sound of a gunshot rang out, making people scream while some sort of black baton was simultaneously thrown at one of the captors.
Bruce Wayne's captor let out a pained yell as he had been hit with the baton, to the Spider's left though, another yell of pain was heard, as it was one of thugs who was about to shoot the woman.
"What the-!?" Damian Wayne's captor's attention quickly turned to where the baton and gunshot had came from.
Taking this moment of distraction, the female vigilante quickly shot out a web and yanked the gun out from the captor's hand.
"Hey!" Turning his head to look at her, she shot another web, making it cover his entire face. Alarmed, his hands quickly let go of the boy and tried to pull the webbing off. Damian, in response, turned to his captor and gave him a swift kick, knocking him back onto his butt.
There was no time to relax though, for from the corner of the Spider's eye, she saw another one of Black Mask's minions point their gun straight at Damian.
"Hey kid watch out!" She yelled. Quickly running towards him, she closed the distance by grabbing him with her web before shooting another web and pulling themselves up to the ceiling.
An echo of screams rang in the ballroom, everyone now running and panicking, all of the rich folk quickly trying to leave the now dangerous room.
"You alright?" She looked at the boy who had a scowl, arms crossed.
"I'm fine." He retorted.
Rude.
"Okay Mr. Grumpy-Pants." She muttered.
Hearing more gunshots, she looked over and saw two of Gotham's vigilantes fighting off the rest of Mask's men.
"Hey so, I'm gonna leave you up here real quick-"
"You will not-" 
It was too late though, the young Wayne found himself webbed into a cocoon, now stuck to the ceiling of his home while the Spider made her way down to help the two men.
"Release me at once!" He yelled at her, fuming.
Both Red Hood and Nightwing were preoccupied and cornered by Black Mask's minions. Both fighting the men and dodging the bullets they shot at the vigilantes.
Too preoccupied, Nightwing had realized too late as one of the men were about a second away from getting shot. But an all too familiar sticky string had pulled the gun out from the minion's hands only to be promptly knocked out with a harsh kick from behind.
"You boys need help?" She questioned, tossing the gun to the side.
"We have it just fine."
"That'd be appreciated."
Red Hood and Nightwing glanced at each other, but Red Hood seemed to be the one to look away first. With a smile, Nightwing threw his escrima stick, shocking a criminal as they went down while he looked back at the Spider.
The two nodded nodded at each other at the result of Red Hood's lack of resistance and made quick work of joining the two men. 
"I don't think I've ever seen you around in Gotham before." Nightwing turned a bit, dodging a fist that flew his way.
"Ah well, I just thought I'd do a bit of sightseeing." Spider-Woman replied, webbing one of the men's foot to the ground, causing him to fall face first onto the ground.
"And Gotham was your first choice?" The first Robin looked over at her, both brows raised, while simultaneously kneeing a man in his face.
She let out a small laugh, weaving her way behind a guy before shoving him to fall to his knees.
"I let the wheel of fate choose for me." She shrugged.
 Nightwing quickly picked up his escrima and tossed it to her, her web shooting out to have it come to her faster.
Once in hand, she tossed the escrima in the air a bit before catching it once more and hitting the man, who was trying to get up, in the back of the head, causing him to fall once more, though this time staying down for good.
"You two, less talking and more beating Sionis' men up." Red Hood grunted in irritation, taking hold of the man throwing a punch at him and bent it the other way, causing the man to let out a blood curdling scream.
Both Spider-Woman and Nightwing backed up into each other, their backs pressed to each other.
"Is he always that snappy?" She questioned, causing him to laugh.
"He's nice, I promise."
She only let out an unconvinced hum in response. 
Clasping his fingers together, Spider-Woman stepped into his hands as he threw her into the air. Finding her target, she shot two strings of webs to the ground before pulling herself feet first, giving the last guy a good kick, and a long-term concussion, to the head.
A satisfied hum left her lips, hands on her hips.
Nightwing whistled a bit, walking over to her. "You're pretty good." He mused.
She couldn't help but feel giddy at the compliment, remembering the adrenaline rush that comes with being a vigilante. 
"Why thank you." She said in a bit of a posh accent, one arm slinging behind her back while the other wrapped around her stomach, and bowed.
Nightwing chuckled at her antics as she straightened herself up.
"I thought I'd be a bit rusty, but it seems I still got it." She hummed brushing her shoulder. Soon, she felt something sturdy and warm brush against the back of her head, slowly tilting her head backwards, the looked as Red Hood was tilting his head down to look at her.
"What are you doing here in Gotham?" His robotic voice questioned. "And don't give me that 'sightseeing' bullshit." 
Turning herself around to face the slightly scary man, she looked up at him clearing her throat and held a finger up.
"Uh well, for starters," She started. She only looked as he continued to stare at her, waiting for a response.
God was he scary when you weren't a citizen.
She seemed to be having a hard time trying to come up with something, a sense of deja vu coming upon her. 
"I have.. Family..?" Her response was more of a question than an answer, and that only made Red Hood even more unconvinced.
"Really." He crossed his arms.
"Ye.. s...?" She slowly drew out the word a bit more, slightly cringing at how unsure she sounded herself.
"If you are done chatting then it would be smart of you to let me down before I come down myself!" A voice, slightly far away, yelled out.
All three vigilantes looked up towards the voice and saw Damian still stuck to the ceiling.
Nightwing snorted a bit at this, the Spider quickly clearing her throat.
"I uh, better go get him." Letting out a nervous chuckle, she glanced at the two vigilantes before webbing her way up to the ceiling, ripping away at the webs to get the boy out from his cocooned confines.
"I don't trust her." Jason squinted his eyes at her, watching her every move.
Dick rolled his eyes at this. "You don't trust anyone Jay- Ow!" 
His head went forwards, a light slapping noise echoing in the walls.
"Vigilante names, we don't know if she can hear us or not." Jason stated.
Dick only let out an annoyed huff, rubbing the back of his head, there was a bit of a smile on Jason's lips, his mood slightly lifting after giving his older brother a good smack.
The Spider soon let their youngest brother down back to the ground. They only watched in amusement as the two seemed to have an exchange of words before Bruce made his way over.
"You're alright?" He questioned his son, crouching down a bit to take a look at him.
"Fine." Damian huffed, looking away, arms crossed. "I told you this party was useless." He slightly glared at his father who only chuckled, giving a small ruffle to his hair.
"I'll make it up to you, promise." He smiled. Standing up, the billionaire looked at the female vigilante. "Thank you, for saving my son."
"Oh, I mean.." The Spider became a bit bashful, a sheepish laugh leaving her mouth. Rubbing the back of her head, she slightly looked away, waving her hand a bit. "It wasn't just me who helped too." 
She looked over at the other two vigilantes, the two seeming to be talking—more like bickering, no one needs to know that but them though—until Nightwing lightly elbowed Red Hood who begrudgingly followed behind the masked vigilante who made his way to them.
"Mr. Wayne." Nightwing said with a smile.
"Ah, Nightwing." The billionaire smiled, looking over at the man that stood behind the more chipper vigilante. "Red Hood."
Red Hood only gave the man a curt nod, muttering the billionaire's name as a greeting. He shifted his weight, having crossed his arms before promptly looking away afterwards.
It became a bit awkward after that, Spider-Woman only watching with slight discomfort at the odd greeting she had just witnessed.
Clearing her throat, all three men looked over at her. "Well I uh, I better get going." She pointed behind her.
"To New York?" Bruce questioned, raising a brow.
"What?" She questioned back, looking at the man before blinking a bit too much. "You.." She pointed at herself. "You know of me?" She asked, dumbfounded.
He chuckled at this. "Of course, you were all over the internet with your disappearance." He mused.
"Oh.." She mumbled, remembering seeing the many articles as well. Everyone questioning as to where she had gone, and if she was coming back.
The flash of a smile and a melodic voice calling out her name came to her, making her grimace.
"Everything alright?"
She snapped her head up to look at the billionaire who had a bit of concern on his face, the two vigilantes looking at her with questioning look.
"Uh, yeah, sorry." She hummed nervously. "All that fighting really tired me out." She winded up her arm, rocking back and forth on her feet a bit. "Anyways uh, thank you, for having me. Sorry about the mess." 
Her hands moved around all over the place, taking small steps back towards the large hole in the wall. "I'll be, I'll be going now, haha.." 
Turning around, a web shot out from her wrist and she had left with the wind. 
"Some party that was." Dick mused. 
"Father did you see how she stuck me to the ceiling like some insect?" Damian quipped.
"Maybe because you are one." Jason mused. 
Immediately, Damian's head turned to look at his brother to give him a glare. Bruce only sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Enough." Looking over at his two oldest, he gave them a questionable look. "Does anyone want to tell me what Spider-Woman is doing in Gotham?" He questions.
Dick shrugged at this. "Beats me."
Jason stayed quiet, a bit of a grimace falling on his face.
"Jason." 
The second Robin only rolled his eyes, looking at his adoptive father. 
"She seemed to have come to Gotham a week ago. Only trail she left was her webs." He informed, arms still crossed.
"And I wasn't informed about this because..?"
Jason shrugged. "Didn't seem important."
The father and son duo stared at each other for a good while, tension slightly building up.
Fuck, this wasn't how Jason wanted this to go.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce beat him to it.
"Well as long as she doesn't pose a threat." He sighed out. "You two should probably get changed, I'm sure Gordan and the others will be here soon."
And right as Bruce said that, the distant sound of sirens could be heard, the colors red and blue flashing in a distance through the darkness and trees.
With a nod, both Jason and Dick went to leave—Damian following along to head to his room—Dick going on ahead, all the while Jason having stopped in his tracks after hearing his name be called out.
Turning his head, he looked over his shoulder, seeing Bruce stare at him for a moment, his lips pressed into a line.
"Will you..." He hesitated for a moment. "Will you be staying for the night?" 
Jason stopped breathing for a moment. 
Did he want him to stay? Or was he just asking out of formalities? Of course Bruce wanted him to stay, he was his son for crying out loud.
Jason's mouth suddenly felt dry, having to lick his slightly chapped lips. His eyes darted around the room, suddenly feeling like that walls of the ballroom were closing in on him even though there was a giant hole in one of the walls.
"No, I'll be going back to my place." He flexing his hand a bit to try and calm his nerves, feeling his clothes suddenly feeling a bit too small on him all of sudden.
"I see. Take care then. I'll see you tomorrow." Bruce said softly.
"Yeah." Was all Jason was able to muster before walking off, leaving the man by himself in the large ballroom.
His footsteps quickened once he left the room, a somewhat nauseous feeling overcoming him. Quickly moving the arms of the grandfather clock once more, he wasted no time going down the stairs.
Fast walking to his motorcycle, he kicked the stand up and stuck the key into the ignition.
"Leaving so soon?" 
Jason paused, hand just barely about to turn the key to start his bike. It was quiet between him and Dick, the two not saying a word.
"Bye." Jason said, his bike roaring to life at the same time, almost drowning out his goodbye as he sped off.
Dick only sighed, watching his younger brother leave the Batcave, the smell of exhaust and gasoline filling the air.
At least he's trying.
part 1 part 2 part 3
65 notes · View notes
cowgurrrl · 1 year
Note
Hi! I love your writing. Ok so I was thinking about her chapter in baby Miller story, maybe baby Miller gets sick, nothing serious of course but it really shakes Joel up because, ya know trauma. All the feels please.
Oooooo I absolutely love this idea
Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author’s note: hello this ended up being so much more sad that I thought it was gonna be
Summary: “Yes, there is a place / where someone / loves you both before / and after they learn what you are.” Neil Hilborn, “Lake”, The Future [1.2k]
Warnings: mentions of deceased children and past relationships, PTSD, anxiety, Charlie girl has a cold (also Charlie is like 3-4 months in this so she’s still just a squish)
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Joel is missing from his side of the bed when you reach for him, feeling his cold pillow instead of his chest. You jolt up and look around the room for any sign of him. His wedding band is still on the bedside table, and his shoes are still by the door, but there's no other indication that he's in the house. Panic settles over your bones as you stand up, throw the blankets off you, and walk down the hallway. You peek your head into Ellie's room first. Maybe she had a nightmare, and Joel fell asleep trying to calm her down, but she's alone and sleeping soundly. You look into Charlie's nursery and let out a relieved sigh when you see him sitting on the floor next to her crib. He doesn't look away from her sleeping form as you stand there, trying to regulate your heartbeat. 
There's no evidence of a massive blowout or a half-asleep attempt at feeding her a bottle. The rocking chair is undisturbed, and it doesn't even look like she's been shifted much from how you laid her to sleep. Still, he's sitting there with a hand on her back, watching her little chest move up and down. You don't enter the sacred space yet. Instead, you just watch them. 
Charlie's had a cold the past few days, and you knew kids got sick. You knew it wasn't your fault, and things like this happen. You knew it was part of growing up, socializing, and building her immune system. What you didn't know was how fucking terrifying it is when your baby gets sick after your kid has died. The second she got a fever, you rushed her to the hospital and cried the entire time the doctor examined her. Joel wasn't any better, fighting tears and anger at himself for letting her get sick but doing his best to keep it together for you. The doctor said it was nothing serious and gave you some antibiotics to give her, but that didn't stop you both from spiraling. That's probably why he's sitting on the cold floor of his daughter's nursery in the middle of the night.
Your heart aches at the worried, gentle look on his face. The man known for his brutality and hardness has melted into this soft, anxious, tender father in no time. You wish he could see himself this way, sitting in the soft light of his baby daughter's room just to measure her breaths. You finally let your feet carry you to where he's seated, careful not to make any sudden noise that could scare them, and sit down across from him. You let your tired body rest against her crib and listen to her light snoring. Joel takes a shaky breath, and you place a hand on his knee, looking into those sad brown eyes.
"She's okay," you whisper, watching his eyes fill his tears. He shakes his head and clenches his jaw. "Joel, look at her. She's breathing. She's safe. She's okay," He wipes a stray tear and rubs his thumb over her little shoulder blades. She smiles in her sleep at the movement, making his lips pull too. You trace delicate patterns into his skin and watch him take deep breaths to calm down. "She's right there. She's not going anywhere."
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Don't," you shake your head. He takes your hand and squeezes like he's trying to convince himself that you're real. "Don't apologize. I know." 
"I'm so fuckin' scared." He whispers. You scoot close enough for your knees to touch and hold his hand with both of yours, kissing it. 
"It's just a cold. She doesn't have a fever anymore. She's gonna be okay."
"'S not just that. I don't... I don't know how to do this," he stumbles through his words, and you wait him out. You know to let him sort through his thoughts before he thinks, that beautiful mind of his trying to string together millions of ideas. "I keep waiting for somethin' to happen or somethin' to take her away, and I'm so scared that I'm gonna be too slow or too fuckin' deaf to stop it. I don't know how to keep her safe. I don't know how to do this after Sarah." He says, tears glistening in his eyes again.
"Honey, you're the best dad. Are you kidding me? You got out of bed to sit on her floor to make sure she was breathing. You're the first one up every time she even fusses. You're there every step of the way, and not just for her but for all of us. She adores you. I adore you," you say, holding his hand to your chest so he can feel your heartbeat. "You were meant to be these girls' dad, and they are so fucking lucky to have you. Sarah was so lucky to have you, and I know," your voice catches in your throat. "I know this is scary and way fucking harder than we thought it was gonna be. I know you're terrified because I'm terrified too, but we are more than capable of doing this because we're a team. You're my team, okay?" It feels like you're begging. The way you're clinging to him like you're trying to convince him to stay is all too familiar, and you're doing your best to keep yourself from crying. Joel notices and presses his forehead to yours, squeezing your hand.
No words need to be spoken as you sit together. Maybe that's the beauty of your relationship. He knows you feel the weight of Jane's body every time you pick Charlie up. You know he listens for her breaths because he heard Sarah's last. He knows you will always check for Ellie first because she was left in David's hands the first time you didn't. You know he sticks so close to Tommy on patrol because he watched a man shoot his brother. He knows you drive yourself crazy trying to be the perfect mother and partner because you weren't good enough to make Jane's dad stay. You know he does the same because he wasn't good enough to make Sarah's mom stay. You understand each other in a way you've never understood anyone else.
"You're my team," he echoes, and you nod. Tears fall from your eyes, and he lets go of you to wipe them away. "I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm right here, okay? I'm here with you, baby. I know." He kisses you, and you can taste his tears. 
Nothing can ever bring your daughters back to you. You can't go back and change anything. You can't stop the bomb from going off or the bullet from firing. All you can do is remember and cry when you get the tiniest slice of them back and keep living despite it all. And this. You can wrap yourself in each other and the beauty of being known by the people you love. So, when Ellie finds you two sleeping on Charlie's floor in the morning, she doesn't say anything. She doesn't try to wake you up or force you away from each other. Instead, she wraps a blanket over you and leaves, knowing what brought you there in the first place. 
[oh the joy and sadness that comes with being known]
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familyvideostevie · 1 year
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let's get it on (someday)
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here's my fic for the delightful @roosterforme 's "Love is in the Air" Valentine's Day writing challenge! my story has the song "let's get it on" by marvin gaye in it, though it's only at the end a little. this was so fun! | meet-cute (light tw for being bothered by a random man), fluff, friends on the cusp of something more, 2k
It starts in the grocery store. It's kind of late and you're tired and don't have a lot of patience left and this man old enough to be your father won't leave you alone. He tries to talk to you by the lemons and again by the bread and it doesn't feel the wrong side of friendly but you don't like how he keeps running into you. So you look for someone to talk to in the store, but it's late and your options are limited.
Maybe you should just forego the rest of your list and head home and then you turn into the cereal aisle and see an absolutely massive guy in what you're pretty sure is a Navy uniform. He probably not going to be any worse than the clingy stranger you're avoiding, right? So you take a deep breath and go right up to him. He hears you coming and turns to look.
"Hi," you say softly. "I'm really sorry but can you pretend to know me for a second? Some dude won't leave me alone."
Navy man's eyebrows raise and his eyes narrow down the aisle behind you. "Are you okay? Should we get someone who works here?" he asks. His mustache twitches. "Is it the guy in the polo?"
"Yeah, that's him. And no, we don't need to. He just...won't stop talking to me." Your tight smile and firm dismissals had not been enough.
"Gotcha," he says. "I'm on it." You take a step closer to him and he turns back to the cereal, clearing his throat. "I don't know what you have against fruit loops," he says, much louder than before. "They're clearly the best cereal and I'm sure they'd make you a morning person for once."
You feel your mouth lift at one corner and you huff a laugh. He's studying the cereal boxes like it's his job, so you take the chance to quickly look him over. His basket has only a few things in it -- protein powder, bananas, and cookies. His uniform says BRADSHAW; he's not the first Navy guy you've seen, since the base is close, but he's the first one you've talked to.
You hear the cart wheels behind you slow and then speed up. "Well, they make me feel like I'm gargling sugar," you say. Bradshaw laughs, bright and loud, and the cart fades away.
Your shoulders drop. "I think he's gone. Are you okay?" he asks again, turning to face you. He doesn't move any closer, keeps his posture relaxed. He really is quite big, you realize. Broad shoulders and rather tall.
"Yeah," you tell him. "I was probably overreacting." Bradshaw shakes his head.
"No, trust your gut," he tells you. "I'm sure you know that. You gonna be okay? I could uh, walk with you, or something?"
"I'm about to check out, so I'll be fine." You smile at him and his brows unfurl. "Thank you so much, and I'm sorry again for bothering you."
"No need to apologize," he tells you and grabs Raisin Bran from the shelf. That makes your smile turn into a grin. Not a Fruit Loops guy after all, it seems.
You put the whole episode out of your mind as soon as you get home. Just another day in the life, right? The guy was cute but the whole thing was kind of mortifying so you forget about it.
The next week you go out with your friends to a bar near the base to meet some people they know. The Hard Deck is clearly a Navy bar, based on the sheer amount of uniforms around. You get introduced to a round of aviators with callsigns like Phoenix, Fanboy, Hangman, and Bob. And then --
"Rooster," says the last guy, turning towards you, hand outstretched. "Oh, it's you!" You let out a laugh of surprise as he pumps your hand once, his palm warm and callused. He's not in his uniform this time, instead in a tank and busy looking short-sleeve shirt.
"You guys know each other?" the blonde one, Hangman, asks.
"Kinda," says Rooster, just as you say, "Not really."
"Interesting," says Hangman, sounding very interested indeed.
"We ran into each other at the grocery store last week," you say. Rooster follows your lead and shrugs, not providing any more details. "Bradshaw, right? Or should I call you Rooster?"
"Bradley," he tells you. Everyone seems to lose interest in you two, including the blonde, though you notice he wiggles his eyebrows before going to get a beer. "You can call me Bradley, if you want."
You tell him your name and he smiles. "What are the odds, huh?" he says. "Glad that this time it's under better circumstances."
"You and me both." He sticks a hand in his pocket, running the other through his hair. He looks carefree here, relaxed, and the energy spreads to you.
"Can I get you a drink?" Bradley asks.
You get to chat a little over some beers before you're roped into a game of pool that pulls you from him. It continues to go like that for the next few weeks -- you see him here and there when you go out with your friends as your circles merge. It's enough to admit that you're nursing a small crush on him and his sun-kissed skin, his bright eyes, his warm tone. But you don't spend enough time alone for you to consider yourselves friends, not really.
When the time comes to finally hang out one-on-one, it's just like your first meeting. You're at a bar you haven't been to before waiting for your friends but they're late and unfortunately for you, you run into a guy you went on a few dates with while trying to order a drink.
"Do you want to come sit with me? I'll buy your drink," he says, and you look around desperately for an out.
And then.
Bradley walks through the door. He looks around before sliding up to the bar with his usual confidence, though it's not his usual haunt, on the other side of the room.
"Nice to see you," you tell the guy. Alec, or Aaron, or whatever. "But my boyfriend just got here." You walk off without another word and make a beeline for the only familiar face in the room, trying not to think about how glad you are to see him and the lie you just told.
"Bradley!" you call and he looks up immedietly, a slow grin spreading across his face at the sight of you. You squeeze close to him, closer than you've ever been. "Hi," you say, a little out of breath.
"Hi yourself," he replies, looking a little amused at how in his space you are.
"I just ran into a guy I went out with a few times and he wouldn't stop talking to me--" Bradley's brows furrow, so you rush on, "--not being inappropriate or anything but I told him you were my boyfriend so he'd lay off--"
"Hey, hey, hey," Bradley says. "Slow down." He looks across the bar, eyes narrowed, and it's just like the grocery store. You manage to contain your exasperated laugh. "Is he wearing a salmon shirt? Damn, ugly color."
You nod. "Is he looking?" Bradley nods.
"Well, let's scare him off. I'm going to touch you, okay?" His words make something tighten in your chest but you nod and his arm comes around your shoulders and pulls you even closer, your sides totally pressed together. His lips ghost your hairline and you instinctively wind your arm around his waist.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, your jaw moving against his shoulder.
"Waiting for the crew," he says. "Wait, did Natasha invite you, too?"
Sneaky, sneaky Natasha. She's almost certainly caught on to your crush on Bradley and you suspect she didn't tell you he was coming on purpose. "She did," you laugh a little. His arm squeezes you once.
"Looks like we're waiting for the same bunch." The bartender comes over and Bradley orders a beer. You ask for the same and he opens a tab.
"You don't have to do that," you tell him. He removes his arm from around you to grab his beer and presents his empty hand, palm up.
"Don't worry about it. I think salmon-shirt is gone, so do you want to find a table?" You answer him by lacing your fingers with his and he leads the way through the crowd, finding an empty booth in a corner that you slide into. Bradley lets go of your hand and you sigh at the loss before you know you're doing it.
"Thanks for the help," you tell him. "Again." He scoots a little closer to hear you better and your legs press together.
"You don't have to thank me," he says, shaking his head. "Shouldn't be happening to you in the first place."
"Well, I'm glad to have you around anyway." You lift your glass and Bradley clinks his with yours.
"Am I interrupting something?" A drawl causes you to start, sloshing a bit of your drink onto the table. You look up and see Hangman watching you both with raised eyebrows.
"Hi, Jake," you say. He's kind of a dick, sure, but you think he's funny and he riles Bradley up in a way that you find endlessly amusing. Hangman scoots in to the booth and Bradley's arm drapes a few inches above your shoulders.
It's a nice night out once the rest of your friends get there and you forget how the night had started -- and that Bradley pretended to be your boyfriend as a ruse. It felt good to be close to him at the bar, and still feels good here in the booth. His arm gets closer and closer to being across your shoulders all night, and your legs remain pressed together. He gets you another drink and then water when you both switch to it. It feels like every time he looks at you when he sits back down he's smiling just for you.
When the evening comes to a close, everyone drifting out to their respective rides home, Rooster leans close, his lips to your ear.
"Do you want a ride home?"
"Oh," you say, pulling back from him a little so you can look at his face. You look at the small nicks and scars that dot his skin, the glow he always has, the deepness of his eyes. Even though you've only been around him with other people, Bradley always looks at you full on when he's talking to you, when he's listening to you. "Sure. You okay to drive?"
"Yeah, been on water for at least two rounds." He stands and his hand hovers over your lower back the entire way to his Bronco.
He backs out of the lot, his hand on your headrest. "Did you have fun?" you ask him. He hums and turns the radio on low. The song playing is "Let's Get It On" by Marvin Gaye. "Oh, I love this song."
Bradley grins. "Me too," he says. "It was a good night, I'd say. You think so?" He grimaces. "Well, good night after the guy went away, I mean."
You laugh a little. The streetlights bathe Bradley in their glow and your chest pangs at how lovely he looks. "We really need to stop hanging out because some guy is following me," you tease. "I mean, it's only happened twice, but..."
Bradley barks out a laugh as you trail off, startling you. "Sorry," he says, running a hand over his mustache. "I'm not laughing because it's happening to you, I swear." He looks over at you for just a second, seemingly coming to a decision. "It's just funny because I'll hang out, just us, anytime you want."
He's totally blushing. "Yeah?" you say.
He nods. "Yeah," he echoes. "I'd love to."
Marvin's voice fills the cab of the Bronco.
"Okay," you tell him. "Let's."
Let's get it on, let's get it on
Maybe someday, you think. You keep your eyes on Bradley and think about how nice it was to have his arm around you, how safe you feel with him, how his smile makes your stomach swoop. Someday soon.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!
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sc0tters · 5 months
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Ik we're not discussing them now, so you dont have to answer this
But I feel like it would take Jack and Quinn ages to 'forgive' John for getting maya pregnant
It would take luke a little while too, but once he gets over the trauma that his sister has sex (with a man 6 years older than him) he just wants maya to be okay, even if it means forgiving John
But Quinn keeps going back to the 'he's 2 years older than me and got my baby sister, who I watched grow up, pregnant, and essentially put her life on pause'
Jack.... Jack has issues with this for multiple reasons, between the age thing, and the fact that maya would've been upset for a while after finding out, the fact he's probably worried about maya, and the fact that thats his baby sister and his teammate . Man js ready to throw punches Nico is STRESSED
I’m gonna write about this in points so I get everything!
Jack takes forever to forgive John. Like it feels like his own teammate stabbed him in the back going for his sister. Sure John didn’t know her as baby Hughes but that didn’t bring Jack any comfort. He thinks that Maya was taken advantage of and that feels like a kick in Jack’s teeth as he did nothing to help her Quinn feels the same way about this. It also doesn’t help that Maya refused to tell Jack who the father of the baby was so when he found out it was John he thought the worse.
Quinn grew up thinking that Maya could do no wrong in his eyes and he still thinks that way so he puts all blame for what happened on John. Quinn also can’t help but think that Maya has lost everything for this baby and for this guy who really didn’t seem to want her for a while. Quinn’s big thing is that he just hates the feeling of someone taking his sister’s innocence away, he knew she wasn’t a virgin but making her a mother was massive. But because John is older than her Quinn expects John to step up in ways that even Maya doesn’t think of.
Luke gets over the fact that she had sex relatively quickly. It was the fact that he was six years older than made him cringe that took him longer to get over. But throughout the whole thing Luke just wanted Maya to be okay, he was the brother that stuck with her through it all and was there when she wanted to cry or wanted the 3:00am cravings (she definitely stayed with Jack and Luke until like seven months because the boys refused to let her move in with John until they knew he was serious)
Practice for the boys is so awkward because Jack is always glaring at John and the moment he even looks at another girl Nico has to go into defensive nod because Jack is ready to punch the living daylights out of John.
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Ghost x City Girl Reader
No pair of people hated each other more than you and Ghost. To him, you were just another loud-mouthed, obnoxious, and immature little princess needing to be humbled. To you, he was just a boring, broody asshole hellbent on not liking you. Things between you two couldn't be any worse. And then, tonight happens…
Tags: Hatemance, Teasing, Flirting, Banter, Sexual Tension, Messy Reader, Ghost is mean
A/N: So I've never actually written a hatemance before and it's actually hard af. I just finished the Ghost x City Girl Smut hatemance I was writing, however, I decided to split it into two parts and it's been a bitch to edit. So I wanted to post a snippet to tide over the wait and also get feedback if you've any on how to write hatemances. Please enjoy this snippet! (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)
Full Story Here!
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NOTE: This is roughly proofread and subjected to slight changes in the final draft (but this is most definitely what it's probably gonna be).
The presence of another human at Ghost's side brings his eyes drearily over, until they've begrudgingly fallen onto you. It seems you grew bored of dancing, and now decided it was time to take your teasing to the source itself.
"Enjoy the show?" you ask him teasingly, knowing you'll most likely not receive a reply, which you don't. Ghost doesn't even fully face you, keeping his eyes pointed ahead of himself at the bar. He hadn't been looking to talk, and it's not like his reply would change anything you had to say. You did invite yourself over.
"You know, Manchester," You lean against the bar, looking up at the man, just close enough to hear him over the club music and smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. "Instead of starin' like a creep, why don't you actually take that stick out your ass and come dance."
Now you're just taking the piss. Ghost finally gives you a look, though he wishes he hadn't. Up close, he's seeing this skimpy little, lowcut tight dress you've got on, with your fishnet stockings and heels. The black choker around your neck was simple, and just begging for someone to tug it off you, and the lipgloss you wore looked like it tasted sweet on your tongue.
Years of training and experience are everything it takes to keep his eyes from dropping any lower than your collarbone. Just in his peripherals, Ghost can see how bouncy and voluptuous they sat in your dress.
You got this cocky look on your face now. "I'll dance with you."
Ghost scoffs. "Not a chance."
"Aw, I get it," you say sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to embarrass myself out there either."
"This place can only handle so much of that with you already out there."
This conversation felt as old as time between you two. If it wasn't you being catty and mean, then it was Ghost being aloof and guarded. While you knew he had been implying your little performance on the dance floor earlier, you were as quick with your tongue as your lieutenant.
And you can't lie, you'd been itching for some good banter all night. You'll take it from anyone, even from the likes of Ghost.
"Please," you laugh. "As if your big ass could actually move out there. I bet you can't even do the two-step."
"I'm sure you'd wanna know," Ghost says.
You reach over, and by your own boundless curiosity, take his drink, inviting yourself to a sip. The bourbon burns your throat as you swallow, your nose scrunching. You smile as you see Ghost's gaze razor focus on your lips pressing to the cool glass of his drink, taking a small sip and letting your tongue chase its remnants over your bottom lip. It's just the way he does so, so unabashedly, that you can't help but giggle at.
"I already know everything I need to, honey."
Ghost turns his body to fully face you now, his massive height over you only now becoming apparent by the shadow it casts. It's intimidated most of the women at the club tonight, whenever Ghost wouldn't just do it himself. No such thing went on with you, however.
He's been sitting here by himself all night, and as much as he could list a plethora of others he'd prefer to be standing here with at the moment, he had you. If you'd use him for your own uncaring amusement, then he'll do the same, since you want to bring that side out of him so badly.
"And what's that?" he asks.
"That you're boring as fuck and have a stick up your ass," you say bluntly. Of course, Ghost didn't expect any less from you. You do this sober, just with less pep to your speech, unlike now. "Though I'm sure you're already aware of that."
"How original," Ghost says dryly. "It take you long to think that one up?"
"I only tell it like I see it."
"Wha' then," Ghost's gaze turns stone cold, doing all it can not to give you a way in. "Gaz wasn't enough? Now you've come to make yourself easy pickin's for the next sorry lad lookin' for an easy lay?"
"Ooo, feisty." You lean in now, resting your hand on the bar counter so you could prop yourself up, giving yourself what little height you can against your unmoving opponent.
"I wouldn't fuck you if you paid me," you say.
"I wouldn't fuck you for charity."
"I wouldn't fuck you if my life depended on it," you shoot back. "As if you could even handle me, Manchester."
"What's there to handle?" he taunts. "You're nothin' but talk. You bark like a bitch and puff your chest, but it's all show. Just a way to make yourself feel big. No surprise you make yourself the local slag; any lad with some sense surely wouldn't bother."
Oh, that comment strikes a nerve; you feel your eyebrow twitch and your blood begin to simmer the second he closes his stupid, British mouth.
"Who're you callin' a bitch and a slag?" You step up now like there's a problem now. "How about you come back with some new material when you can actually talk to me without that little safety blanket on your face, Manchester. It's easy to talk shit when you've got something to hide behind. And you call me unoriginal."
You take his drink and pour it out on the counter now, watching it spill over the surface and drip onto the floor. When you meet his gaze again, if looks could kill, you'd both be dead. You just wasted a good cup of fucking bourbon.
"Do somethin' about it," you taunt him.
He steps forward, and for a small second, you think the man might actually do something. However, it had merely been an intimidation tactic, a warning. He stops just a few inches shy of you, keeping his strong arms crossed over his chest.
Ghost would love to, oh, believe him. It's taking all of him not to say something really foul to you and truly ruin the whole night for everyone. And you don't stop at the drink either.
You step even closer now, keeping your head cocked back and your eyes on him. You're close enough now to feel the body heat bouncing off from him, vibrating the more irritated he grew.
"Do something," you say again. "You just gonna let some slag pour your drink out like that?"
You raise your hand up as though you're about to smack him, and that's what finally gets him to move. Ghost catches your tiny wrist in his hand, his grip tight as he holds you there.
"What the fuck-" You grimace at first, your fight-or-flight instincts telling you to try and tug your hand out of his grip and use your other to sock him straight. However, something differently entirely occurs in you suddenly.
You take a moment to really feel his hand on your wrist, how the slightest adjustment of his thumb made a chill trickle up your arm, and that he was the closest he's ever stood next to you outside of work. The man might irritate you, and he was an asshole, but Goddamn did he have an inviting pair of hands and some magnetic eyes on him. Eyes that seemed just as curious to outline all the makings of your figure.
You kind of like this.
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littlemissmanga · 11 months
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Hound Thots
Guys, Hound has been living in my head rent-free and distracting me from my WIPs for the past day thanks to Fireworks by @imarvelatthestars and Watch And Learn, City Boy (Taylor's Version) by @dystopicjumpsuit.
So, to be able to return to my WIPS, I gotta write these down now. Will probably do a whole fic but for now ...
SFW
It's almost time for his shift, so Hound is circling your apartment, gathering everything he needs. The last thing is getting Grizzer ready. But when he whistles, the massif doesn't come.
Scouting the living room, he sees his partner curled up on the couch next to you.
You are sound asleep, with Grizzer pressed against your side keeping you away from the edge of the couch, his head protectively over your shoulder.
The sight nearly knocked him down. Massifs weren't overtly social animals, but once they recognized someone as part of their pack, they were extremely loyal. And Grizzer clearly decided you were his to protect.
With the serene look on your sleeping face, Hound couldn't help but agree. Despite being responsible for all of Coruscant along with the rest of the guard, he wanted you to be his to protect, to cherish.
Hound doesn't know where the gall comes from, but he finds he can't resist leaning forward to press the softest kiss to your forehead.
But he can't. Grizz moves to block him, huffing angrily, keen on maintaining your trust that he would keep you undisturbed in your sleep.
"Oh kriff off, you mutt." Hound mumbles with no real bite. Despite the denial, he secretly loves how keen Grizzer was on keeping you safe. But duty doesn't care about that the way he did.
"Grizz, off." is answered only by a whine. But when Hound holds up his partner's collar, the massif finally caves, knowing it was time to work.
The pair make their way to the front door, with Hound casting one last look over his shoulder where you slept peacefully. He would do everything he could to keep this planet safe for you.
NSFW below the cut ...
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This is gonna be less lazy writing of a scene and more just thots
Hound is a switch, hard core, though he's not into those labels. He's a guy who's comfortable in his skin and just wants to have fun, adjusting the dynamic based on his and your needs that day.
He loves watching you take the lead, seeing in your actions just how much you actually want him. It makes him feel desired and powerful, and he genuinely gets off seeing you take your pleasure. Naturally, he's favorite position like this is watching you ride him, but from a sitting position, where he can still reach you.
But when he's in a mood, he gets into primal play. It's one of the few times this side of his personality comes out. He and you know he'll always be gentle, always keep you safe. But when he is most needy, most in need of reassurance, he'll take it, maneuvering you onto your stomach, laying you flat, pressing himself of top of you from torso to groin and taking you from behind, his thighs on either side of yours, giving him leverage and keeping you still so all you can do is take him. His whole weight helps press his cock deeper into you, needing to feel every inch of you around him and under him.
He'll sneak his arms under you, one crossing your hip so he can rest a hand over your lower stomach, pressing firmly there before moving further south. The other is nestled up the center of your chest to hold your throat - not to choke or squeeze, but just to hold you, reinforcing his position and his mental hold on you. And it helps in pulling you up slightly so he can mouth at your neck and shoulders before he claims your mouth
Hound nipping only slightly playfully at the back of your neck, right on the vertebra.
Man has a massive praise kink - giving and receiving. Narrate to him exactly how he's making you feel good and oh boy does that get his engine going even more. Especially if you pair the praise with soft touches, even in the middle of a rougher session. Soft touches (one may even say heavy petting) make this man fucking melt. And he gives as good as he gets, whining mostly, interspersed with growls and groans and "good girl/boy" every so often.
"So good for me, baby. So kriffing good, squeezing my cock so tight. It's not too much, right? Of course not. My good [girl/boy/petname] can take it all."
Also has a massive creampie kink. Not breeding kink, cause he's unsure about kids - likes them in theory but it's just so far outside his realm of experience it's not something he's thought much about - but his brain stops working when he pulls out of you and sees his cum dripping down your tights to pool on the bed under you. He likes the possessiveness of it, of leaving part of himself in you even after he's done.
Afterwards, all he wants to do is hold you. You eventually will have to negotiate him letting you to go the restroom to clean up, but that will usually get delayed by how long he wants to keep you in his arms, reassuring that you're here, you enjoyed yourself, you're happy and satisfied and safe and it's because of him. Honestly, after an intense session, this man just wants to nest - blankets, bed, cuddles and takeout when he eventually gets hungry. You or his patrol duties usually ruin that fantasy for him but on his rare days off, you indulge him and it genuinely restores like a year to his life when he gets to basically cocoon with you.
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misslavenderlady · 1 year
Text
A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 13
Summary: The truth comes out with Grandpa Emerson, and David is preparing for the worst outcome. What he doesn't know is that there's a major surprise coming his way.
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TW: Chapter contains mentions of abuse, death and vampire hunting
Shout out to @britany1997 for helping me pick out Grandpa's first name. Thank you all for your patience! Please enjoy!!
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David’s head was spinning. The words of Mr. Emerson were echoing in his ears all while the old man smiled back at him.
He knew. How was that even possible? The entire summer he and the others had come and gone as they pleased, and the old man never said a word. Not even a hint that he could tell that they were supernatural creatures.  
"Is that right?" David asked. He was on his guard now. Even if it was some old, grandfatherly man, he couldn't take any risks now. Things had become so unpredictable so fast.  
"Yes, it is," Mr. Emerson stated. He moved his hand off the banister, freeing the path for David. Even so, there was little the vampire could do. At this point, he wouldn't get to the cave in time. He was a sitting duck.  
"So what? You gonna stake me or something? Don't think I'll go easy on you because you're Michael's grandpa," David warned him. His eyes flashed a deep gold, showing off that his word was not to be taken lightly.  
But the old man was not fazed by such a display. He only took a sip from the coffee mug in his hand, completely casual and indifferent. David had to admit, it took some real guts to not show any signs of fear when face to face with a vampire. Especially one that was free to do whatever it wanted thanks to the lack of limitations with power.  
It seemed like hours and hours passed before the old man finally spoke again.  
“Follow me, David. I’ve got something I wanna show you.” 
If David wasn’t so skilled at keeping a poker face, it would have been obvious that he was positively baffled by such a request. No human ever looked into the demonic eyes he possessed and reacted with anything other than horror. Yet Mr. Emerson was completely unbothered.  
He gestured for David to follow him, casually shuffling over to the other side of the room. He opened a door hidden in the corner and glanced up, silently waiting for the vampire to get a move on.  
This has to be a trap, David thought to himself. Though even if it was, there wasn't much he could do in this situation. Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. He would simply have to follow and see where this went.  
He was certain Mr. Emerson would have him go down the descending staircase first. Probably preparing to push him down the steps and have him land on a bed of spikes at the bottom.  
To his surprise, the elderly man took the first step, casually heading down into the basement. It truly was strange. He was turning his back to a vampire and simply didn't care. Such curious behavior only drew David in more, and he figured he should see how this would go.  
He followed Mr. Emerson down the staircase, the aged wood of the steps creaking under his leather boots. It was dark in the lower level of the house, but being in places devoid of light was David's specialty.  
"I think you'll like this quite a bit. I've been working hard to do this properly." 
Mr. Emerson rounded a corner and flipped a switch on the side of the wall. When David stepped up to his side a truly unbelievable sight greeted his eyes.  
Under the warm glow of the ceiling light was a room he hadn't yet seen. But it wasn't just any room. It was a full living space.  
Four full-size beds were placed side by side along the wall. They had thick oak bed frames and soft quilts spread over the mattresses. Two couches were set off to the side with a massive, antique bookcase and lamp set nearby for reading. A radio and record player were set up for any musical needs. A round table with wooden chairs was set up on the other side of the room with a mini fridge close by for snacks.  
"Wh…What's all this?" David asked, still in awe of everything.  
"Oh, this isn't even all of it," Mr. Emerson explained. "Those doors in that one corner lead to a few other rooms. Two bedrooms. One for the little lady and one for that kid ya got. There's also a bathroom. Got a tub if ya ever want a bath." 
The more the old man casually explained the setup of the basement, the more perplexed David was. He was so lost by what was going on. It was a miracle he was able to find the right words.  
"Is this….for me and the Lost Boys?"  
Michael's grandfather had a proud smile on his face. He took another swig of his coffee before pointing up toward the top of the wall. There were thick, black curtains draped over two spaces, no doubt covering up windows on the other side.  
"Got some grade-A blackout curtains and some special sheets to cover the glass. Absolutely no sun can get through this. Can't have any of you getting fried like chicken in oil when you're tryin' to sleep."  
It was an odd way to answer the question, but that truly did confirm what David was wondering. This entire basement was turned into a living space for the boys, Star and Laddie. Someone actually took the time and energy to give them a home. 
"I don't understand," David admitted.  
Mr. Emerson nodded before taking a seat on a nearby couch. He let out a grunt and set his coffee down on the table across from him.  
"You see, son," he began, "when I was a youngin’ I was a vampire hunter. A damn good one too. I was the best of the best in all of Santa Carla. Probably the best in California." 
It was hard for David to picture this old man as a fierce hunter, but looks could be deceiving.  
"I cut back on the hunting when I got married and had Lucy. Didn't want my family getting involved. It's an ugly life, and they didn't deserve to see that kind of gruesome stuff. So, I got an office job, put food on the table, and kept the streets safe at night. My wife and daughter were none the wiser." 
"What changed?" 
"Simple. I lost the love of my life." 
Mr. Emerson's carefree smile dropped. There was a sense of pain lingering in his eyes. One that showed how time had not healed such a wound. 
"Mary Emerson. She was my soulmate, and she left this world while I was out on a hunt. Had a stroke in her sleep. I didn't even know until the next morning. I was all by myself. Lucy was raising her boys in Phoenix. I had to deal with true loneliness for the first time in my life." 
Even for a cold-blooded killer vampire, David had to admit he hated the idea of loneliness. His undead life was so much better with the boys in it. He loved them with all his heart, and he'd do anything to keep them safe.  
"I realized what a great mistake I made. My hatred for vampires blinded me to what was most important. I let hate and fear drive my actions and didn't take the time to consider all those creatures were once human too. They had parents, children, brothers, sisters, friends. I wondered how many coven members or loved ones were lonely without them. How many felt like they would die of a broken heart." 
He stood up again, his eyes fixated on David.  
"So, I'll admit, I became a bit of a hippie. My daughter was once one, so I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he said with a soft chuckle. "I quit hunting for good. I wrote letters to Lucy, let her come home when she divorced her bastard husband, and I appreciated life for what it was. It felt good to let go of hate. That’s why I welcomed all of you with open arms." 
"That's quite a risky move," David pointed out "You know my boys and I could have easily killed you. Tore you apart like tissue paper." 
"And yet, you didn't," Mr. Emerson retorted. "You sat at my dining table like gentlemen, helped my daughter wash dishes, and left my grandson with the biggest smile on his face I've ever seen. You may be vampires, but you boys aren't monsters. Not from what I've seen." 
That really struck a chord with David. It was such a major change for him and the others when they were welcomed into the Emerson family. They had no issue with sharing their home and their love with a bunch of no-good punks that were seen as nuisances to the Santa Carla public. They were loud and bold and always eager to sing and dance all night long.  
David had such hazy memories of his human life from over a century ago. Even so, he knew that this was his first time truly feeling affection from a family.  
"I don't know what to say, sir…" 
"You don't have to say anything, son," the old man assured him. "You've done enough in return. It warms my old, tired heart to see young love between you and my grandson. So long as you're good to him, my home will always be welcome to you. Including the times you need to hide away in the morning. I know you prefer the ceiling but you may wanna stick with the beds just so nobody gets a surprise if they ever come by the basement." 
David bit back a snicker at that. He appreciated that the Emerson elder had a sense of humor for all of this.  
Still, it was all such a shock. David hadn't had the comfort of an actual home in decades. He worked hard to make the cave as livable as possible for his vampire pack members, but it wasn't easy. They didn't have the ability to lock doors or windows or have a hellhound for security like Max did.  
Having the Emersons take better care of him than his own Sire was quite bittersweet. Even if it hurt to be shunned by his very creator, at least he had others he could count on.  
"Well….thank you, Mr. Emerson," David said, extending his arm out and offering a hand.  
He hoped the old man would accept his gesture as a genuine token of appreciation. To his relief, it was accepted with a hearty shake.  
"Call me Randy, son," he said. "You're family now." 
Family. David could get used to that.  
"Well then. I gotta get my day started and you've gotta get some rest for the end of yours. Don't worry, Lucy and the boys won't bother you down here. Just be sure to let your friends know you're okay." 
He tapped the side of his forehead, hinting at David to use his telepathy to call out to the others. The vampire gave the old man a nod before watching him trudge back up the stairs.  
David slowly slipped off his boots and shrugged off his jackets before tossing them aside on the floor. It was quite strange getting prepared for bed and not just flying up into the cave rafters. Sinking into the bed was a foreign sensation, but certainly not unwelcome. The mattress was plush and the quilt perfectly warm. Even with mere seconds of time spent lying in bed, David was already sensing the pull of slumber on his mind.  
"Hey guys," he called out to the boys. "I'm not gonna make it to the cave, but don't worry. I found cover somewhere else." 
"Where'd you end up?" Dwayne's voice answered him.  
David could feel his lips curling up in a smile as his eyes shut. He managed to get in one last response before letting sleep take over.  
"Home."  
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Sending out a letter to Max was a terribly risky move, but one that was absolutely necessary. 
Sam had forged his mother's signature for school notes enough times to recreate her handwriting on her personal stationery. He and the Frog Brothers had slipped the note into Max's mailbox earlier that morning, urging the man to come by the house as soon as possible.  
This was the first part of many tests they were going to perform on the businessman. If he didn't show up during daylight hours, that was the first red flag to keep an eye on. 
"Pretty fishy that the sun is setting and he's still not here," Edgar pointed out.  
"He'll probably use his work at the video store to cover his ass if we ask about it," Sam added.  
The three boys were circled up at the table in the Emerson kitchen. They had been strategizing over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while Lucy was out running errands. If Max truly was a vampire, Sam didn't want to risk his mother getting hurt. 
He wondered if this was what Michael was going through. Stepping up as a man to protect the family.  
"It's a small part of the plan," Alan assured the two. "We just gotta be prepared for the other parts."  
Each boy was armed with plenty of tools for hunting. Makeshift crosses, holy water from the local church, pocket mirrors, and the sharpest stakes they could find. The three of them were buzzing with energy, waiting for their guest with great impatience.  
"Just remember this. Nobody invites him in, and don't stop fighting no matter what. We've got to stay strong, men," Edgar said, voice full of confidence.  
The other two nodded in agreement. Before anyone could say anything else, a shrill sound interrupted their thoughts.  
The doorbell. He was there. No going back and no getting scared.  
Edgar, Alan, and Sam all pocketed their weapons in their pants and jackets. They could go in guns a-blazing. Instead, the Frogs followed Sam to the living room of the house, close behind as the Emerson boy went to open the front door.  
The guest of honor was standing right outside. Max Lawrence.  
"Ah! Sam! Good evening," Max greeted him. "Nice to see you, son." 
Sam didn't bother to hide his frown. This man didn't have the right to call him such a thing. It made him positively sick.  
"That makes one of us," the young boy retorted.  
"Well…I'm just here to see your mother. May I come in and talk to her, please?"  
The three rookie hunters eyed one another. Slowly and carefully, they reached for the tools they had stashed away. They were fully ready to take the man down if he truly was the bloodsucking monster they suspected him to be.  
But their plan fell through when a voice called out to Sam.  
“What in the hell is going on here?” 
The three boys swiftly turned to see Michael stepping in from the kitchen. He still wore his work gloves and carried a broom from his time sweeping the back porch. When his gaze landed on Max, his hand clenched tighter around the wooden rod of the broom. 
“Sam, you and your friends go upstairs.” 
“But Mike, we can’t do th-” 
“I said GET.” 
Sam shivered at the stern tone his brother used. He knew better than to question the eldest when he started talking like that. Though Edgar and Alan shared worried glances with their friend, it was made abundantly clear that Michael’s order was not to be taken lightly. The three of them glanced back at Max as they rushed up the staircase, making their way to Sam’s room.  
“Huh. I wonder what it was they wanted,” Max said, trying to keep a pleasant and casual conversation. Though he smiled at Michael, he quickly realized that the happy expression wasn’t going to be returned.  
“Anyway. I just came to speak with Lucy. She sent a letter asking me to stop by.” 
Max pulled the piece of light pink stationery from the inner pocket of his blazer. He confidently handed it over to Michael, who was quite bewildered at the idea of his mother sending the bastard an invitation to come over. When he glanced over the writing on the inside, a smirk pulled across his face. 
“Aww bless your heart,” he said in a condescending tone. “My mama didn’t send this, Max. Sam was just messin’ with you. Guess ya came all this way for nothing. Why don’t you head on home then, okay?” 
Michael was just about ready to slam the door in Max’s face but found the door being stopped by the hand of the older man.  
“Now, Michael,” Max scolded him. “I don’t think it’s very polite to shoo company away when they traveled all the way to see someone. Why don’t you just invite me in, and we can talk things out?” 
“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Max. You’re not welcome and you ain’t ever gonna be welcome. Now I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.” 
The more Michael fought back, the shorter Max’s temper got. Being such a powerful authority figure in Santa Carla, he wasn’t used to being denied the things he wanted. He didn’t tolerate defiance with his boys, and he certainly wouldn’t now.  
“You know something, son,” Max said, voice dripping in venom. “You’ve got a terrible attitude for a self-claimed ‘southern gentleman’. I should have realized that when you and your trashy family crashed my party, but now seeing you being so disobedient to your elders, I’m starting to think you deserve some manners taught to you.” 
Michael’s blood was practically boiling with rage. He loathed this man with all his heart. Not one to tolerate such treatment, he pushed his way outside, slamming the door behind him and holding up his broom like a weapon.  
“You listen and you listen good, ya son of a bitch. I don’t take kindly to people like you who look down on others just for bein’ different. My mama is too good for the likes of you and I’d rather walk on hot coals than ever call you my father. You don’t even deserve to be David’s father.” 
“Mic-” 
“I ain’t done!” the boy snapped. “You’re so stuck up you could drown in a rainstorm. You think you’re so high and mighty, but you ain’t. If I ever see you ‘round these parts again I’m gonna beat some sense into you with this broom. Now get the hell off my property!” 
Max was completely stunned into silence. Nobody had ever dared to speak to him in such a way. Even when his boys stepped out of line, he was sure to shut it down. Michael was an absolute spitfire. He could tell such threats were not to be taken lightly.  
But that didn’t scare him. Max knew this wasn’t over.  
“Fair enough,” the man said. “You win. I’ll be on my way. Have a good night, Michael.” 
The Emerson boy didn’t take his eyes off of Max for one second as he carefully watched him walk down the path and get back into his luxury car. He was just happy to watch the man finally pull out of the driveway and get out of sight.  
While Michael was feeling better to see him gone, Max was still smiling to himself as he drove back into the city. An eerie smile. One that hid the insidious thoughts he held within his mind.  
“You’re going to regret messing with me, human.” 
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Tag List: @silvermaplealder @michael-after-hours @legal-lost-boy @britany1997 @ria-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses @6lostgirl6 @american-idiot-jpg @bloodywickedvamp @anxiouslittleweirdkid @juss-soupp @bloodsuckingfiends @peachpixiesstuff @bezinful @oceansrose2002 @piratesangel @hallotonia @vampirefilmlover
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itsbeeble · 1 year
Text
Monochrome Diamonds (pt. 2)
Summary: When Yeonjun sees you in a club, purple lights glowing when they hit your skin, he knows he has to have you.
Genre: Smut, fluff
WC: ~2.3k
Pairing: yeonjun x afab!reader
Warnings: Yeonjun simp moment, soft dom!yeonjun, making out, oral (fem receiving), marking, reader is somewhat possessive at some point
Note: I hope this makes up for whatever I posted last night. I already know it was bad and I plan on editing it sometime soon
pt 1 here
Yeonjun is quick to help you out of the car, taking both of your hands in his own, and helping to keep you steady on your wobbling legs, both from exhaustion and from cumming in his car just moments before. 
“You alright?” He asks, a mix of genuine concern and amusement in his voice while you walk into the massive building and enter an elevator. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out, gazing around you both in utter amazement. “Yeah, I’m great.” He chuckles, pressing the bottom for the top floor. The silence gives you a moment to really gauge what’s about to happen, and what just happened. 
A hot rich man just fingered me in his car.
A hot rich man is about to fuck me in his penthouse.
Holy fuck.
“How rich are you?” You look at him and he laughs. 
“I own the whole building if that gives you any insight. I also own the building across the street, and the one to our left.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to untangle the mess you’d made. 
“Oh, so you’re rich rich.” He practically doubles over, a hand on his chest as he laughs. You laugh with him, leaning your head back against the wall of the elevator. 
“I like you, Y/N,” he smiles at you. 
“I like you too, Yeonjun.”
The elevator dings, the door in front of you opening to a penthouse that must have been three times the size of your apartment. Your jaw drops, and Yeonjun gently tugs you into his home. 
“Make yourself at home, I have water, coffee, tea, snacks. Whatever you want.”
“I thought you were gonna fuck me,” he raises an eyebrow at you, but nonetheless the amusement is still there.
“I can still make you comfortable. What kind of men have you been with that don’t make sure you feel comfortable before attempting to fuck you?” You laugh and just shake your head. Yeonjun steps over to you, his eyes narrowed.
“You’d be surprised, Rich Boy.” You lace your fingers behind your back, not looking him in the eye. 
“Disgraceful,” he scoffs and takes your chin between two fingers. “Truly. A woman like you should be treated with the utmost care.” 
“I bet you say that to everyone, Yeonjun.”
“You’re the first one I’ve taken here, Y/N, whether you believe it or not.” Yeonjun says softly. You blink, barely containing your shock. “I don’t sleep with just anyone.”
“But— but you probably have people lining up to fuck you. You could probably have anyone in the world, so why me?” He shrugs. 
“I already told you. I like you.” 
A tug on the diamond necklace around his neck, and his lips are on yours again. His hands fall on your hips, and he begins to back you up until you hit the wall behind you. The heels on your feet hardly do anything to get you to his height, and you rise up just a bit to get closer to him. He slides his hands down to your thighs, and then back up to your hips, just barely touching you now. This kiss is slower than the one in the car, he’s taking his time now, no longer rushed by the idea that people may watch the two of you. When you pull away from him for air, he chases your lips, teeth latching onto your lower lip and tugging you back toward him. 
When his tongue dips into your mouth, it’s just as slow. He doesn’t fight for dominance over this kiss, but neither do you. It’s a slow dance, and both of you are taking the lead this time, despite the desperation you know you’re both feeling. You want to rush things, want him to take you hard and fast, and you know he will, he’s just waiting for your command.
You pull away from his lips again, quickly moving your head out of the way when he comes back for you. When he opens his mouth to ask why you pulled back, all that comes out is a stuttered gasp. Your lips have connected with the side of his neck, sucking dark marks into the golden skin. His grip on your hips tightens, and he tilts his head to the side to grant you more access. More skin for you to mark in order to claim him as yours. A prize, of sorts, to tell the next person he has that he’s not theirs to keep.
“Y/N,” Yeonjun’s eyes are fluttering, his breaths coming out in quick little gasps. You hum against the column of his throat, slowly moving lower until you’re sinking back onto your heels and placing harsh kisses against his chest. With every button you undo, his hands dig just a little harder into your flesh. You can feel his heart thumping under your touch, feel his chest rising and falling quickly. You’re proud of the affect you’re having on the young man, proud of how he’s crumbling under your touch. “Y/N, please let me touch you again.” 
You don’t respond, just pull away from his chest, admiring the marks you’ve left all over him. His eyes have grown impossibly darker, and before you know it, he’s lifting you up off the ground and moving you across the room. You grab onto his shoulders at the sudden motion, your legs wrapping themselves around his slim waist and holding on for dear life. 
“Showing off?” You tease, and he raises an eyebrow at you. He’s laying you on the couch now, his leaving your body to remove the shirt he’s wearing, followed by his pants. 
“Not quite, my love.” He tugs at the hem of your dress, pushing it up to reveal your dripping center. “You, however, seem to be very eager.” You scoff and squirm when his fingers dip between your thighs, spreading them and lowering his body down. 
“You fingered me in your car on the way here,” your voice is airy, a whine escaping you in the middle of your sentence, “excuse me for wanting to continue where we left off.”
“Do I need to remind you that you’re the one who didn’t want me to fuck you in said car?” He looks up at you from between your legs, his breath against your pussy making you gasp. 
“True.” 
The moment his lips connect with your heat, your back is arching again and your hands are lacing themselves into his hair to tug him closer to you. Quiet moans quickly begin to grow in volume until you’re practically screaming his name. 
His tongue runs up and down your folds, alternating between dipping into your hole and lapping at your clit. Your thighs are clamping down on his head, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his teeth graze against your sensitive nub, his tongue moving to lick into you, practically fucking in and out of you at a rapid pace. One of his hands slips off of your thigh, and his thumb begins to drag against your clit. 
You feel like you can’t breathe, the pleasure beginning to become overwhelming for your senses. Your vision is spotted with stars, not that you could see anything either way with how your eyes are rolling into the back of your skull. Your jaw hangs open, loud moans and begs for him to not stop coming out almost incoherently. You don’t know if he even understands what you’re saying, can’t tell if he even heard you considering his head is trapped between your thighs. 
You can only pray that your tugging on his hair is enough of a warning that you’re about to cum all over the lower half of his face. 
The world goes silent when you do, and then your ears are ringing, and your whole body is shaking violently from the force of your second orgasm of the night. He doesn’t pull away from you, even when you begin to jerk away from him from overstimulation. He continues to lick and suck and nip at your aching cunt, as if it’s the last thing he’s ever going to taste, and your third orgasm has you spasming against him before you know it. 
When Yeonjun pulls away from you, it isn’t for very long. He’s quick to bring his lips back to yours, your taste lingering on his lips. Your dress is being shoved up your torso, and he pulls away again to watch you lift it over your head, allowing him to finally see you in full. His eyes are filled with lust and adoration as he brings his hands up to palm at your breasts, squeezing them and tugging at your pebbled nipples.
He doesn’t stay distracted for too long, however, and before you know it, he’s prodding at your entrance, slowly beginning to slide himself in. He’s not the biggest you’ve ever had, nor is he the girthiest, but what’s different from the other men you’d slept with was that he knew what he was doing. He didn’t violently thrust himself in and out of you, hitting nowhere that gave you pleasure. He didn’t make you want to fake an orgasm just to finish the experience and leave. 
Yeonjung took his time, allowing you to adjust despite the three orgasms he’d given you earlier on. When you gave him the okay to move, he started slowly, watching for any signs of discomfort, and when he found none he picked up his pace, and soon enough his hips were slapping against yours, and your moans began to reach the air around you once more. His hands grabbed at your legs, sliding them over his shoulders, and the sudden change of angle had you seeing stars once more. Your sopping cunt pulsed around him, spasming when he began to hit the spongey spot inside of you again and again and again. 
You could hear the quiet grunts Yeonjun let out, the quiet moans that followed and the tremors that went through his body. You had to force your eyes open, near blinded by the pleasure you were receiving, and the sight of him had you whining. His head was tilted back, his jaw dropped open, and his eyes squeezed shut. There were drops of sweat dripping down his forehead, sliding down his neck and you tried to fight the urge to flip him over, to take control, and let him feel the same pleasure as you.
Key word: tried.
He yelped when you sat up suddenly, and your pussy clenched as it tried to regain the feeling of him being inside of you when he slipped out. You were quick to place yourself on top of him, a hand on his chest to keep him from flipping you over again when you slipped him back into you. He was sitting up, arms wrapped around your waist and face shoved into your tits as you bounced on top of him, hips swirling and lifting up and down. He couldn’t fight the urge to lift his hips and meet your own every time you came back down onto him. 
Internally, he cringed at the possible state of the once pristine couch you both had likely ruined. 
“Close,” you gasped out, the familiar knot in your stomach beginning to form for the fourth time that night. He whined into your chest, biting and sucking at one of your nipples, adding to the already building pressure. “Junnie, I’m so close.” He didn’t respond, his hips beginning to stutter and his moans becoming slightly higher in pitch.
When you reach your high for the fourth and final time, he’s quick to follow, pulling out just barely in time to spurt cum all over your stomach. Thick, heavy globs land on your skin, slowly dripping down and you begin to grow warm at the look on Yeonjun’s face when he pulls away from your chest. Lidded eyes, lips parted with gasping breaths. You lean your head forward, letting your forehead connect softly with your own. 
“I meant what I said,” he says to you afterward, sitting on the edge of the tub will you soak in the bath he’d drawn for you. You peer an eye open, looking at him curiously. “When I told you I liked you.”
“What are we, high schoolers?” You smile and he chuckles.
“Maybe,” he brings a finger to your cheek, brushing away a few drops of water. “But it’s true.”
“You stared at me in a club for three hours, and the first thing you said to me was ‘can I buy you a drink’,” you make a face at him. “And then you proceeded to make out with me in your car, finger me in your car, and then fuck me on your really expensive couch.”
“Are you saying you didn’t like it?” He teases.
“No, I liked it very much,” you turn in the tub to face him, sitting up on your knees to be a little less than eye level with him. “But don’t you think we should at least get to know each other before you decide if you like me or not?” He smiles, pats the top of your head and stands from the edge of the tub. 
“Okay.”
“Okay?” You question. “What does ‘okay’ mean?”
“We’ll get to know each other.” He promises. “I’ll take you to breakfast tomorrow, and then we can go out.”
“I— okay.” You can’t help the grin that breaks out on your face. “You sure make up your mind quickly.”
“I tend to do that when I see something I like.” 
“Idiot.”
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beautifulfuckup99 · 9 months
Note
Do you think you can do anything with Jimin please? Just a cute fluff story 🫶🏼
-<3
Coming right up!
Title: Our Baby...
Warning(s): Cute fluff...
Author's Note: This is a "Non-Idol!AU". Hope you enjoy!
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With a tense posture, Y/N entered the loft apartment she has shared with her boyfriend of three years. Looking around, she realized he's still sleeping, a holy realization, honestly. With a soft grunt, she lifts the bundle in her arms more, and shuts the front door with her foot. The silence is disturbed when thunder clashes outside, making Y/N wince.
What started off as a random trip to the grocery store, ended in a full-blown rescue mission. "Okay. Stay here, I'm gonna see what we have for food..." Y/N mutters, clueless as to what this soaking wet animal in her arms will consume. She sits him down on the rug and smiles at him before rushing off to the kitchen in hopes of finding something of convenience.
"What the hell do Pit Bulls eat?" She mutters to herself as she examines the cabinets and the cans stacked inside of them. "Huh. What do you..." She stops her question when she turns to see the full-grown dog isn't on the living room carpet anymore. "Crap!" Y/N gasps as she sees the bedroom door was open now. Probably due to the animal using its head to push open the door.
Y/N rushes to the bedroom and sees the massive Pit Bull weakly moving to get on the bed that her boyfriend was sleeping in peacefully. She holds in a breath as the dog moves to lay on top of Jimin, causing the snores to swiftly stop.
"Mm... Babe... Stop, you're all wet..." Jimin mumbles in his sleepy state of mind and Y/N walks over to the other side of the bed as the Pit Bull softly sniffs the cork of Jimin's neck, making the 27-year-old man smirk, eyes still closed. "Baby... Stop. I'm too tired..." He mumbles with a playful smile as if trying to play hard to get.
Y/N covers her mouth as to not laugh as the dog licks the side of Jimin's face, making him finally scrunch his nose. "Baby, did you brush your tee..." Jimin stops when he opens his eyes and comes face to face with his smiling girlfriend. He's confused for only a second before his body stiffens and he turns his head to see the dog over him.
"Shit!" He gasps and the loud noise makes the dog jump back too. Y/N giggles as she stands up and walks over to turn on the bedroom light. She then hops on the end of the bed.
"Isn't he cute?!" She smiles as she opens her arms for the dog. He quickly moves into her grasp, licking at her face and moving to be on her lap, obviously not knowing his size.
"Honey?" Jimin asks as calmly as he can manage. "This morning when you told me you were going to the store, I thought you'd come back with groceries. Not a whole dog!" He exclaims and Y/N giggles sheepishly.
"I know! I know, it's crazy." She sighs as her hands rub up and down the wet fur of the dog. "But baby, the poor dog was just alone in the alleyway by the supermarket. Getting rained on and being ignored!" She defends.
"But it could have an owner, Y/N..." Jimin says, hand moving up to wipe his cheek of the dog drool.
"A bad owner." Y/N corrects. "And that's a big 'could'." She states defensively. "Also, don't say 'it'. He's a boy." She adds with a nod of certainty. Jimin sighs heavily as he eyes the big dog now slouched on Y/N's lap.
"He's cute. I'll give you that. But, baby, there's a reason we don't have pets. We're so busy, we can't even keep a plant alive!" He says and Y/N waves a hand at that, as if brushing away the concerns.
"He's a baby. And he needs a home, Jimin. Now, I'm gonna give him a bath, and get him some food. Can you please look up vets near us so he can get checked out?" She asks hopefully, pouting a bit to soften her hesitant boyfriend up. Jimin eyes her, his hesitation slowly fading like she knew it would.
"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" He mutters and Y/N smiles brightly at him. He hums. "Fine. Fine, we'll get him settled. But I'm also printing out posters of him. In case an owner is looking for him." He warns as he eyes his excited girlfriend wirily, knowing she'll get attached either way.
"Fair!" Y/N states, not thinking anything of the warning. "Let's go, baby. Daddy says you can stay!" She coos to the dog as he licks her face.
"Y/N! No getting attached. We're just... Landlords to him." Jimin reminds her and Y/N mocks him under her breath.
"Daddy's grumpy..." She giggles to the dog and gets off the bed with him. Jimin breathes deeply, knowing this won't end well.
*******************************************
"Ok! I think this looks comfy enough." Jimin nods as he eyes the pile of old pillows he'd tossed on the floor for the dog.
The entire day had been a bit of a headache. Searching for vets, giving him a bath, trying to give him something to eat. This dog was a bit of a handful. And Jimin didn't wanna say it out loud, but it felt like the dog had it out for him.
Maybe he was going crazy, but that dog...
During his bath, the dog gave a hard time staying still until Y/N distracted him by giving him Jimin's loofah to play with, and after Y/N was done, the dog went jumping out of the bath and pounced on Jimin's lap, wetting him and his laptop.
During lunch time, the dog refused anything Y/N tried serving, and instead, went after Jimin's sandwich.
The first one, Jimin just let go, but when he made himself another one? The dog was right there, waiting for it. And the third sandwich Jimin made for himself? That was a fight. Until Y/N told him to just let it go and that she'd make his favorite for dinner tonight.
But even that was also stolen by the Pit Bull the moment Jimin got up to grab something from the kitchen. And now? Now, it was bedtime, and Jimin was promised some snuggles from Y/N for being such a good and patient boyfriend.
"Alright! Bed is all set for-" Jimin is cut off by Y/N.
"Shh! He's sleeping!" She says as she shows the big dog laying comfortably on Jimin's side of the bed.
"Babe! That's my pillow..." He scrunches his nose as Y/N strokes the dog gently.
"He's all comfy. Don't make him move." She pouts at her boyfriend. He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his messy hair.
"And where do I sleep?!" He asks. Y/N hums and moves a bit, so she was somewhat in the middle of the bed. Jimin grumbles as he walks over to the bed to be in his girlfriend's arms.
"Thank you for being so good today..." Y/N giggles softly and pecks his cheek as he softens a bit at the affection.
"Yeah, yeah..." Jimin mutters It wouldn't be long now before the owner contacted Jimin. He knew this. Just had to adjust for a day or two.
********************************************
That 'day or two' quickly turned into days and then it turned into weeks, and still, there was no phone call to Jimin about the dog that Y/N had now lovingly dubbed as 'Ace'. Jimin had even begun getting used to all his food getting stolen and his pillow being claimed by drool every night from the big Pit Bull. The dog made Y/N happy and honestly, raising this dog was bringing the couple closer together.
The long walks in the evenings, the nights being squished together because Ace took up half the bed with all his moving around, the days spent at the dog park just running around and playing with the energetic dog. It was nice. Until one evening, that is.
Jimin was working on his laptop, enjoying the background noise of Y/N squealing every time Ace wet her while getting a bath. He'd dove straight into a mud puddle during their evening walk earlier, and Jimin had won their rock, paper, scissors game, so Ace was YN's problem.
He's pulled out of his amusement by his phone ringing with a number that isn't saved in his phone. He picks it up in confusion. "Yes?” He asks.
“Uh… Hi, is this Jim?” A male voice questions and Jimin rolls his eyes.
“Jimin.” He corrects. “And, speaking.” He confirms.
“Right. My bad. Uh... I saw a poster with your number on it…” The guy begins and Jimin stiffens.
Don’t say it…
Don’t say it…
Don’t…
“I think you found my dog…” the guy confirms and Jimin feels his heart drop…
Shit.
***************************************
"Are you sure we can't pay him for Ace?" Y/N whispers to her boyfriend only to be silenced with a look as the young college looking kid walked up to the couple.
"Cooper! Hey big boy!" Mason greets happily as the Pit Bull runs over to his original owner, much to Y/N's dismay.
"What kind of name is Cooper?" Y/N mutters quietly and Jimin sighs, rubbing his girlfriend's back as a way to keep her calm.
"I've spent weeks looking for him everywhere. He broke off his leash when my girlfriend was trying to walk him, went running after a car. I can't believe you found him..." Mason rambles fast as he fixes the hoodie on his head more while the Pit Bull basically climbs his 6-foot frame.
Jimin blinks a bit, trying to keep up with the fast talker. "How much was the dog food and other supplies; I can pay you back..." Mason offers and Jimin shakes his head fast.
"No, please. It was our pleasure. We're just glad you got your dog back..." Jimin says and nudges a pouting Y/N.
"Yeah... Sure are glad." Y/N mutters and moves to pet the dog once more. Mason smiles more and then fixes a leash on to 'Cooper', waving bye and walking off back to his pick-up truck that was parked out front Jimin and Y/N's apartment building.
"Y/N? You okay? Wanna get something to-" Y/N cuts Jimin off, a frown deepening as she watches the truck drive away.
"I'm tired. I just wanna go to sleep..." She whispers as she moves away from Jimin, only stopping at the building entrance to give a teary-eyed expression to her boyfriend.
"You were right. I shouldn't have gotten attached..." She mumbles and walks off back upstairs. Jimin frowns now, feeling more upset than before...
**********************************
With a tense posture, Jimin entered the loft apartment he has shared with his girlfriend of three years. Looking around, he realized she's still in the bedroom. Probably sulking, honestly. With a soft grunt, Jimin lifts the bundle in his arms more, and shuts the front door with his foot. The silence is disturbed when thunder clashes outside, making Jimin wince. Damn thunderstorm...
Y/N is under the sheets in the bedroom when Jimin walks in. "Baby?" He asks.
"Do. Not. Disturb." Y/N mutters quietly from under the sheets, causing Jimin to sigh.
"Y/N, you can't hide in there all day." He tries and she snorts humorlessly.
"Just watch me. I have nothing anymore." She sniffles and Jimin face palms at his girlfriend's dramatics.
"That's not true! You have me..." Jimin sings happily.
"Oh? Are you gonna be my new Ace?" Y/N challenges bitterly, causing Jimin to laugh softly.
"No..." He says slowly. "But he can be!" He states and Y/N pauses in confusion, slowly peaking her head out and seeing a grey-furred, Pit Bull, puppy in Jimin's arms. She gasps and sits up fast.
"Baby!" She squeals as the puppy wags its tail excitedly. "Where did you find this one?!" She asks as she instantly grabs the Pit from Jimin's arms.
"Wasn't easy. I had to search around a little bit, but... I finally found a shop. The store has him under the name 'Bryce'." Jimin says and Y/N coos at the puppy softly as he licks her.
"Oh, We'll be changing that." Y/N giggles at the dog, kissing all over his soft face. Jimin chuckles and gently touches Y/N's shoulder blade.
"Now, honey." Jimin begins as Y/N looks up at him. "He's a baby. And he needs a home." He says, causing Y/N to giggle as she realizes he's using her words on her. "I'm gonna give him a bath and get him some food. Can you please look up vets near us so he can get checked out?" He asks hopefully, pouting a bit to mock Y/N's puppy dog look. Y/N laughs and jokingly eyes Jimin.
"Well... If you insist!" She mutters playfully and smiles brightly at him. "And this time, no owners." She states.
"Yes. You can get as attached as you want." Jimin nods and Y/N moves to hug him and then peck his lips sweetly. She then pulls away and goes back to nuzzling the dog.
"Isn't daddy the best!?" She giggles to the dog as he licks her face. Jimin smiles softly at the sight in front of him. "And don't worry. We'll never even think about naming you Cooper." She says to the dog and Jimin face palms.
"Baby. Let it go." He mutters as he shakes his head.
**********************************************
Sorry to all the 'Cooper's of the world... Lol. Hope you enjoyed!
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malarkgirlypop · 7 months
Text
MEDIC! Part 11 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)
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HI Friends! Are you traumatised yet? Sorry it's been so sad lately. In one of the upcoming chapters I had to put a fun bit at the end cause I was just getting into this very depressed mood when writing. It hurts so much to write it but it's for the plot ya'll! I hope you enjoy another sad chapter! But oh god it's gonna get worse before it gets better, so hold onto your hats! I need a hug after writing this! This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved. Enjoy!
I sit in my foxhole, waiting, watching, freezing. I tip my head back letting the snow land on my face, the cool snowflakes melt when they make contact. Like soft cold kisses. I sigh, I’m tired but I can’t sleep, I’m restless but with nowhere to go, I’m bored but I don’t want to talk to anyone. The sound of engines pulled me from my daze. My eyes searched the trees, smoke puffed from the forest. My jaw clenched. What was coming? My stomach churned. I steadied myself with a deep breath. Silently praying whatever happened that there weren't massive amounts of casualties. Lipton ran past me, “It’s going to get busy Lane.” The tanks came into view, popping out of the trees. I chewed the inside of my cheeks, ripping the flesh with my teeth, a copper tang filled my mouth. I watched as Spina jumped into Gene’s hole, they clambered out together, as voices filled the air. “Medic!” Gene rushed to the scene. I stayed still waiting. Gunfire could be heard over the roaring of the tanks that were steadily making their way towards us. The men called to each other, Lip gave orders to the men to stay low. “MEDIC!” My ears perked to the faint call. I run through the trees to the voice.    
I jump in the screaming man’s hole, he howls with pain, gripping at his bloody leg. I grimace looking at the wound, it gapes open, so deep I can see the muscle. Bullets whizz past our heads, as I work on his leg. He hisses as I pour the sulphur on the wound, gritting his teeth and tilting his head back in pain. I work quickly wrapping the leg and tying the dressing around it tightly. I duck as more bullets rip past, cursing under my breath. The sound of the roaring tanks getting closer. I look around for help but I can’t see anyone else around. Probably all hauled up in their foxholes not wanting to risk coming into the open. I pull the man to his feet. He gives me an unassured look like are you really gonna drag me to safety? I wrap his arm around my shoulder holding onto his waist. He half hops half runs, as we run back from the line. A hot flash sears into my abdomen, I stumbled from the pain shooting through my side, bringing us both to the ground in a heap. The man cries out in pain, as I apologise, getting myself to my feet to help him again. I stop a cry from leaving my lips as I pull him up. I inhale a deep breath. I will check later, I need him to be safe first.
“Hey, I need a jeep.” I yell to anyone, hastily checking around to see if I can spot another person. I see Luz pop his head up from his hole, giving me a thumbs up. I help the man over to the hole where George is, pulling him in to take cover from the onslaught of fire. George mutters into the radio, telling them that we need a jeep. 
“They’re coming!” George says as he puts the radio away. “Need my help.” I nod, not being able to answer as I puff from the effort. We hear a car in the distance, I brace myself to move again. Luz helps the man to his feet. We take a side each, carrying the man. I place him on the stretcher, “take him to the hospital!” I yell to the man driving, “I’m not coming, too busy!”
He doesn’t wait, pulling away with the man attached to the front of the jeep. Luz has disappeared back into his hole. I look down at my side, blood seeps through my jacket, mother fucker! I don’t inspect the wound further, I don’t need to be hit again while trying to look at the wound. I keep low while running, finding an empty foxhole, I jump into it, cursing as I hit the ground, the shockwaves from the jump increasing the pain. I sit down, pulling up the many layers I wear to get a look at the injury. I hiss as I expose my flesh to the biting cold wind. A wound above my right hip oozes blood, not deep enough for it to hit anything important. I’m happy to see an entry and exit of the bullet that has torn through my skin. Weird thing to be happy about but now I don’t have to dig it out, that would be a bitch to do myself. I open my bag searching for supplies. 
“LANE, LANE!” A man cries from ahead of me. Shit. I pull back down my top, tucking it back in. I can wait for now, I’m fine. I move to the voice, not as fast as normal, due to every step sending throbbing pain through my side. I reach the calling voice, it’s Lieb. He grips his arm, pain evident on his face. 
“You good Lieb?” I ask, slipping in beside him, he sends me daggers. I stifle my chuckle. He gives me his hurt arm, pulling his hand back for me to see. A slice through his forearm, a graze from a bullet. I look beside him, Babe watches the line holding his gun, he fires at the approaching tanks. I wrap Lieb’s arm, it’s an easy fix. “Do you want a jeep?” I yell over the noise as he shakes his head, getting back into a position to fire his gun. I duck down as bullets fly past.  
Gathering things back into my bag. I stand quickly, forgetting about my own situation. A dizziness overcomes me, hazing out my vision. I stagger back, trying to regain my balance. Babe and Lieb are both too busy to notice. I shake my head, scrunching my eyes closed. I pause, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. I take a breath, opening my eyes. I crawl out of their hole making my way back to my own. I haven’t even made it back yet when, “MEDIC! LANE!” I turn around, Lip is waving me over to a hole closer to the front. I dive in barely missing the onslaught of machine gun fire. A man grimaces in pain, holding his shoulder. I rip open his top, entry and exit wound, I like to see it. I rip the sulphur open with my teeth pouring it on the open wounds. “ARGH!” The man groans, I move quickly wrapping his shoulder tying it tightly to help reduce the blood loss. “Can you walk?” Lip asks the man who nods, “Get out of here!” He doesn’t waste any time getting out of the hole and running back to safety. I stand again getting ready to leave myself, but my legs are weak, not supporting me, I fall back, landing on Lip. 
“Lane?” He asked, confused, looking down at me. Stars dance around my vision, I blink, trying to clear them.     
“Haven’t eaten yet today.” Best lie I can manage, I know if I tell him the truth he would fuss. I don’t need to be fussed over, I’ve already caused enough distress. Plus I can handle this on my own. 
“You look pale Em.” Lipton studies my face. 
“No, I'm fine.” I wave my hand, trying to dismiss his concerns. Lip doesn’t look convinced. His eyes scan me, I push myself into a sitting position, trying to not show how dizzy I really am. The trees sway in front of me. I feel like I have just gotten off one of those rides at the fair that spins you around really fast. 
I turn my body subtly moving my injured side out of his eyeline. I don’t want him to notice the blood that has seeped through my clothes. 
“What are you hiding?” Lip questions, raising his eyebrow. I shake my head, going to defend myself. But his hands are on me quicker than I can open my mouth, grabbing at my jacket, his brows furrow, pulling the jacket up to reveal the top I am wearing is covered in blood. Lip’s eyes go wide seeing the crimson stain on my jacket. I look down at it as well, bigger than before. 
“Jesus Em.” Lip gawks, I could lie, say it’s not mine. But Lip is too smart.  
“It’s fine Lip, I was going to fix it later.” I try to brush it off, make it seem like it’s not as bad as it seems. 
“Medic!” Lip yells, I lunge forward, trying to cover his mouth, he fends me off. “Medic!” 
I groan in pain, holding my side, from the quick movement. Spina lands in the hole, looking confused. 
“Everything alright?” He asks, eyeing the both of us. 
“Lane is injured.” Lip informs the man. 
“I can fix it myself!” I protest. Spina notices the blood, pulling up the layers of clothing to find the wound, “Entry and exit, it’s fine Spina, really.” 
“I’ll just do it now while I’m here.” Spina suggests, I sigh, nodding my head. I lean over so that he can see it better. He moves fast pouring sulphur on the wound and then wrapping it, I wince from his prodding. I lower my top, as he nods at me letting me know he’s done. He climbs out of the hole. As I follow after him. Lip stays in his position turning his attention back to the situation at hand. 
I didn't sit down once, we were able to stop the attack but many men got injured. By the time it was all over it was late in the afternoon. The pain from my wound radiated around my whole body, I felt like crying the whole time. I just wanted to rest but it was so busy. I stand in line, dazed, tired, sore. I felt ready to pass out, I couldn’t tell if it was from the blood loss or just from pure exhaustion. I had to change the dressing three times, each one saturated in blood. It had slowed but not stopped. I was thinking about stitching it up, or getting Gene to do it for me. I step forward with my cup collecting the food that Joe handed out. I muttered a thank you before finding somewhere to sit down. I found Malarkey and Penkala standing so I joined them, they spoke quietly while I sipped the soup. 
“You alright Em?” Don turned his attention to me, I felt like I was swaying on my feet. I gave a defeated nod. His brows furrowed, scanning me up and down. 
“You sure?” He doubled down. Penkala is now looking at me too. 
“You look like death.” Penkala said bluntly, I gave a weak chuckle, of course he would give it to me straight. 
“I got a bullet to the side.” I smiled wryly. Pointing at my injured hip. Their eyes widened. 
“I’m fine!” I reassure them before they call for a medic, or something else stupid. “Just tired and sore. Like we all are.” I have no right to complain about my aching bones when everyone’s bones ache, when we are all tired, I’m no different, I do not need special treatment. Malarkey stands closer to me, carefully pulling me into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder, leaning into him. I could fall asleep standing up. He keeps me close, even when Colonel Sink arrives wishing us a merry christmas eve and reading us a letter from one of the General’s. His hand moves up and down my arm as we lean into each other, the comfort I didn’t know I needed. Someone to hug and kiss me better. It makes me happy, fills my heart, better than any pain medication I could take. In his arms nothing hurts, his touch easing my pain, letting me forget all my worries. Just the simple stroke of his fingers against my cheek, I could be convinced I’m elsewhere, not standing in a snow covered forest in the middle of the war. He murmurs in my ear, I listen to him with my eyes still closed, his voice gentle and even, rich in tone, filling my tummy with butterflies.
Night falls again, I was dragged to stay in Don’s foxhole with him, Penkala and Muck. A tight squeeze but no one seemed to mind, happy for the heat of the other. I was ordered to rest, I refused at first, “What if they need me?”
“Then we will wake you!” Muck chimed in before Don could answer, a smile on his lips giving me the see-I-told-you-so look. I huffed agreeing. I nestled into Malarkey’s side once again, wrapping my arms around myself. I fell into a deep sleep, I was so exhausted my brain couldn’t even dream. 
“EM!” I was shaken away, I gasped, looking around confused, trying to get my bearings again, “Em, they're calling for you.” Don said, I could hear the distant yells for a medic. I sat up, hissing at the pain from my side. I move quickly, finding Welsh lying on the floor, Winters hovering over him. I stand looking at the two men, my legs won’t move, my brain won’t work, nothing is processing. 
“LANE!” Winters calls me. I snap out of it, kneeling beside Harry. Winters calls for Gene too. I put pressure on the wound trying to stop the bleeding. I rip open the packet of Sulphur with my teeth pouring it over the laceration. Harry screams in pain as Nixon holds his hand. I look behind me Gene stands still watching, I look over to Winters. “Roe?” He calls to the man, he blinks, coming too. Moving forward to help me. I press the dressing down into the injury while he tourniquets above the wound site. 
“I got morphine in my pocket, give it to him.” He tells Winters.  
“Where do you want it?” Winters asks, fishing the morphine from his pocket.
“Other thigh.” I say, motioning with my head as my hands are full tying the bandage to the leg.
In a quick motion Winters stabs the syrette into Harry’s leg, a sigh of relief leaves his lips as the morphine works quickly. Gene writes in Harry’s blood an M on his head, to let the others know we gave him the medication. The men lift him up and onto the jeep that arrived. Gene and I exchange a glance, I can see the tiredness etched into his face, wary from all that we have seen over the past couple of months. I think we can both say that this time spent in Bastogne has been the hardest. We know we won’t be the same after all of this. I think Winters’ noticed it too, when we both arrived at the scene we did the same thing, froze. Not something you want to see from both of your medics when their job is to act quickly. 
“Eugene, Emily, get yourselves into town and get a hot meal.” Winters kneels beside us talking quietly. We move, running over and getting into the jeep. 
Town is worse than the forest. I kinda wish I had just stayed behind. I look up at the sky, planes fly low overhead as bursts of gunfire fill the dark night. Fires rage in the barely standing buildings that remain. Bombs drop from the sky, exploding onto the surrounding streets. Civilians scramble past us, soldiers doing the same. Screams can be heard over all of the noise. We approach the hospital, but before we do the church explodes, plumes of smoke and fire rise from the windows and doors. I gasp, covering my shocked mouth with my hand. A building in front of us is bombed, firing debris and shrapnel over the street. I duck, covering my face with my arms, flinching away from the blast of heat. The jeep pulls to a stop. Gene and I exit the vehicle. I cough from the smoke, unable to see much in front of me. I walk cautiously. Following behind Gene. Men stagger out of the church, coughing and limping. I watch the scene unfold. Still following behind Gene, as he walks closer to the building. A car swerves into the road on fire, as whistling sounds. Another shell hits the ground sending up a fireball into the sky, I run trying to catch Gene who has moved forward further. A man runs out, warning us to not go into the building. Gene stops bending down and pulling something from the rubble, I approach him, he holds something in his hand. He turns it over, catching the light. My heart stops, I know that blue fabric. It’s Renee’s. Tears slip down my face. Gene turns to face me, shaking his head. I walk to him, he pulls me into a hug. I hold him tightly, he buries his face into my shoulder, we pull away after a moment. I take the blue scarf and tuck it into his pocket, resting my hand on his chest, he squeezes my hand. We share a look of sadness but appreciation for the other. I reach my hand up, wiping away a stray tear from his face. We don’t get any time to mourn, before we are called away to help.
By the time we get back it’s early morning and the sun has risen. We exit the car, I pull Gene in for another hug. We stand in each other’s embrace for a moment, needing the silence of the interaction. I place a gentle kiss on his cheek as we pull away. A sad smile shared between us. He leaves, wandering to the front. I do the same, needing a hug from one of my favourite people. I find Don, Skip and Penkala huddled in a hole. I almost break down from the sight. I leap into the hole pulling them all in for a group hug. They seem surprised at my sudden affection but go along with it anyway. 
“I don’t mean to sound cheesy but I love you guys.” I pull back tears in my eyes as I look at them all, they laugh baffled at my declaration of love. 
“I have a girlfriend!” Skip exclaimed, I shook my head hitting him in the arm as he laughed. 
“We love you too Em!” Penkala smiles, pulling me into his arms. The other men piling on top of us. I grin at the men, feeling better now that I was surrounded with their affection. 
“Aw you guys!” Tears slipped from my eyes but unlike all the other times, they were happy tears.
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theemporium · 6 months
Note
i know we like to talk about fun AUs here, so i was just wondering if you’ve ever thought about boxer!daniel? it’s pretty much all i can think about after that video of daniel boxing/training came out.
maybe it’s something like you’re a nurse who looks after a few of the fighters, and he’s just constantly flirting with you, all while you’re trying to keep some professionalism in the workplace, so you kind of just smile but shrug off his advances.
you sit on the edge of your seat at all his fights, hoping that he makes it out okay. he always looks for you in the crowd and gives you a wink before the fight starts.
you help him wrap his knuckles before fights, carefully holding onto his rough slightly calloused hands in your softer more delicate ones. he’s got massive hearts in his eyes while you help him with this, just enjoying the intimate moment. (boxer!max teases him about it endlessly)
while you try to keep your feelings for daniel hidden away, you can’t ignore the pangs in your heart when he takes a nasty hit every so often. after one fight he’s got a decent bruise on his cheek, blemishing his skin. you apply some cream to help soothe it, tilting his head back as you stand between his legs.
he tries to lighten the mood with some jokes or something, probably asking if it makes him look even more tough. you just stroke along his cheek and eventually look into his eyes as they stare back at you.
“you can’t let them ruin your pretty face daniel.” you say quietly
his cheeks quickly turn a bright pink as he stutters, trying to think of something to say. you’ve finally made a little bit of a move on him, and all the poor boy can do is smile and lean into your touch
I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH ARE YOU KIDDING ME🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠
the tension? the angst? the concern? I AM GONNA SCREAM
and just imagining him holding you after a particularly rough fight because it shook you a little and he just wants to reassure you he’s okay. or imagine him having a few bad fights and you reassuring him that he’s a good fighter, just everyone has their bad days. or imagine going out with him and someone makes you uncomfortable, like this man would have them pinned to the wall and a right hook to their face before you can even say something🥲THE POSSIBILITIES IN THIS WORLD ARE ENDLESS
and the way daniel maybe doubts himself when he realises the feelings are reciprocated because he doesn’t want to drag you down. like you’re so sweet and kind and you have such a bright future, he doesn’t want to put a damper on it but he also feels his heart clench at the idea of not being with you and it’s just so🫠
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