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call-me-strega · 3 months

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Dc x DP Prompt #8: Best Friend’s Brother

Preface: this prompt can be used with different characters but I’m writing it as Dead on Main bc that’s my favorite. Also the colleges I mention are real colleges from the DCU

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Danny Fenton was 18 when he moved to Gotham for college.

It was the only place with a half decent engineering program that would take a kid with his record; drop in grades, unexplained absences, missing class, a disciplinary record, etc. Plus there was a decent saturation of both magic and ectoplasm in Gotham’s air. After he got accepted he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. They reacted surprisingly well all things considered. They were horrified to learn they’d been hunting their son but it quickly turned into acceptance to listen to what he had to tell them. Now they turned their obsession from hunting ghosts to learning more about ghost more humanely. He also managed to get his former rouges to agree to call off any major shenanigans in favor of less destructive outlets. (He got Ember a TikTok and a YouTube channel, he set up a drag racing circuit in the realms for Johnny and Kitty, let Technus enter the internet as long as he stayed within Amity’s grid or help Ember manage her stuff, allowed Desiree grant wishes for Make a Wish Foundation kids so long as she didn’t horribly twist them, etc.)

Now with the town not at constant risk of danger and his parents agreeing to really handle any rouge ghosts, Danny could leave Amity with a clear conscience. His friends were also growing up and heading to their own colleges. Tucker was heading to Ivy University in New England, which rivaled MIT in terms technological prestige, and Sam decided on Vandermeer University in Pittsburg, which had a reputation for being a very liberal, anti-authority campus. Although their trio would be spread out, Danny found comfort in the fact that they’d all moved from the Midwest to the Northeast.

With promises to stay in touch a visit. Danny got set up in GCU’s dorms, ready to move into the next chapter of his life.

Danny Fenton was 20 when Tim Drake (age 19 but nearing 20) officially became one of his best friends.

They had been introduced to each other by their mutual friend Sebastian Ives for a new Warlocks and Warriors campaign. Their friendship extended beyond WnW when they ended up on the same Applied Physics and Mechanics class. It was cemented when they got pair up for a project in class and had to spend lots of time around each other.

Danny didn’t mind that Tim tended to be a bit flaky and Tim didn’t mind that Danny was possibly not 100% human. They didn’t ask each other too many questions about that stuff. They knew the other had something odd about him and that was fine with them. It was nice to have a causal friend they could be normal with, without being questioned about their more peculiar behaviors.

They officially became best friends when the built a Rube Goldberg machine with a working trebuchet within an hour of the three they had to complete it for their Applied Phys-Mech final. Danny introduced Tim to Sam, Tucker and Jazz. Tim introduced him to Steph, Tam, and Cass. They texted and hung out fairly often. They truly did consider each other one their best friends.

Danny Fenton is 22 when he meets Tim’s family.

Tim’s 21st birthday is coming up and he has plans with his family the day of and is going out with his friends, including a couple from out of town, that night. They want to take him out for his first drink and it’s fortunate timing since it’s the weekend so nobody has to worry about classes. Everyone who was going was already informed that Tim would be spending most of the day with his family before Steph and Cass would bring to the club everyone was meeting up at. Which is why it’s purely a coincidence when he runs into them at BatBurger during the lunch rush.

Danny had just picked up the part-time job to earn a little extra cash to pay for his hobbies. Tim new about it but didn’t know the exact location he worked. That’s why they were both presently surprised when they heard each others voices in the drive through. When they pulled up to window Danny saw his friend leaning over a tired looking black-haired man, trying to stick his head out of the drivers window to give Danny a maniacal grin.

He quickly introduced the other passengers of the car as his dad, Bruce, and three of his brothers Dick, Jason, and Duke. He mentioned he had a fourth brother, Damian, who was still at home. Danny couldn’t really see everyone all that well on account of they were inside a car but he happily greeted them as well. They laughed and Danny wished Tim a happy birthday saying he’d see him at his celebration later tonight before handing them their food. He could the rowdy boys ribbing their brother as the car drove away and Danny resumed his work.

That incident seemed to have opened a gate because now Tim felt more comfortable inviting him over when his brothers were still around the house. He occasionally talked about his family more and Danny returned the favor letting snippets of his own family spill a little more. Occasionally, he’d see Tim’s family outside of his interactions with Tim.

He’d run into Damian, and sometimes Bruce or Dick was with him, at the museum or in the park while the younger had been walking his dog and stopped to say hi a couple of times. He chatted with Dick a couple of times when they were both in line to get coffee at a cafe. He saw Duke on a college tour once and waved at him.

The family member he probably saw the most other that Tim (and by extension Cass) was actually Jason. He’d ended up ditching BatBurger to get some more practical experience at an apprenticeship at the auto shop Jason went to to get his motorcycle serviced. The two of them got along pretty well and would often make conversation when Jason was waiting on his bike to be ready or to get his bill.

At first is was small talk about little things like how he and Tim were doing in class or how their days were going but they soon grew to have genuine interests in each other. Jason let Danny talk about space and mechanics and even gave his own thoughts sometimes, once helping Danny realize he was over complicating the circuit board of the device he was building. In return Danny let Jason ramble to him about literature, even taking the initiative to read a book Jason mentioned so he could talk to him about it better. Their conversation tended to be on the briefer side but were always enjoyable to both parties.

Danny actually liked being around Jason a lot but didn’t really bring that fact up a lot around Tim as it didn’t seem necessary. Tim was pretty glad that Danny got along with his family but he preferred to keep them in separate places in his mind. Danny knew and respected that, only really mentioning that he’d seen them recently and that they’d told him to say hi on their behalf (or die in Damian’s case occasionally).

Tim Drake was 22 when he came to a horrific realization.

Well, perhaps horrific was a bit of an exaggeration. Tim wasn’t necessarily horrified by the revelation. In all honesty he didn’t know how to feel. He felt an odd mixture of protectiveness, possessiveness, confusion, and optimism(?).

You see, Tim and Danny had been hanging out in the campus center, studying and goofing off when he got a text from Jason saying he was coming to pick him up for family dinner at the manor since he was closest and Dick was busy picking up Duke and Damian from their after school clubs.

“What’s up?” Danny asked him curiously.

Tim set his phone on the table and started putting his stuff away. “My brother is coming to pick me up for family dinner so I gotta head out soon.”

“Ah well I should probably get going too. Tell Dick I said hi.”

“Actually, it’s Jason. Dick is picking up Duke and Damian,” he said shoving his textbook into his bag.

“Oh? That’s nice of him. Hey do you wanna just head out together?” Danny asked, fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

Tim noticed a slight strain in Danny’s voice at the mention of Jason but didn’t comment. He just nodded his head sure and walked outside with Danny. They got out to the street when Tim realized he’d left his phone in the library. He faced palmed and asked Danny if he could hold his stuff so it wouldn’t slow him down as he ran back to the campus center to get his phone. Danny agreed to and hold his stuff and wait for Jason while Tim went back.

After getting his phone Tim started heading back to where he left Danny when he saw that Jason had arrived that Jason had arrived and was talking to Danny. He was about to call out to them when he noticed several things in quick succession. Danny was fidgeting with his hoodie, something he tended to do when nervous. The tips of Danny’s ears were a light shade of pink (it isn’t cold out yet?). Danny looked deeply absorbed in his conversation with Jason in a way that reminded Tim of how he talked about space. And Jason seemed just as absorbed in the conversation as well.

The gears in Tim’s head went into overdrive and he realized ‘Ah- Danny has a crush on Jason’. His eyes widened as his head whipped around to examine Jason again. He saw a look of genuine fondness in his eyes. Thus Tim was confronted with the aforementioned horrific realization and complicated feelings. Tim didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both.

‘My dumbass best friend has a crush on my brother. And worse(?), my idiot brother returns those feelings.’

#dc x dp #long post #dead on main #danny fenton #tim drake #jason todd #jason todd x danny fenton #danny and tim are bffs #Danny has a crush on his best friends older brother #he hasn’t realized this quite yet #Tim isn’t sure how to feel about this #Jason probably likes Danny too but also doesn’t realize it #Tim is the only one who is aware and suffering #he has to make a choice:#wingman his idiot friend and idiot brother #or hoard his friend to himself #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

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battymommastuff · 2 months

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A Night with the Knight

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Masterlist

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

Wherever you were, it was warm. Warm, but cold at the same time. You felt safe, but you were also in danger. Maybe the danger was the freaky cult that tried recruiting you. The warmth, you came to realize was a blanket draped across your body. You'd woken up in a dark, unfamiliar place for the second time tonight. The sound of rushing water filled your ears along with the faint buzzing of the dim lights, and sounds of machines in every direction.

This place was far too dark to be a hospital, and you were glad for that. Any public setting was the last place you wanted to be right now. The last thing you remembered was Batman hovering over you after saving you from your kidnappers. After that were faint memories from you going in and out of consciousness. The city flying by faster than it ever did, the masked face of the man who saved you, and brief images of a black tailcoat with white gloves. All of these images were taking their sweet time processing in your mind. Your entire body felt like it was hit by a train despite you having the body of an acrobat.

Slowly, you got out of the hospital bed you were in. You wanted to find somebody. It was too quiet, and it felt like you had eyes on you at all times...which you did. Walking out of the little room you were in, you saw a massive screen that lit up the area around it. Pictures of your captors, the leader of the Court...and several members of the circus were all over the screen. You looked down to see the back of Batman's head as he typed away on the keyboard, "How are you feeling?" He asked, suddenly. You jumped then looked around. No one else was around, but how did he know you were there? You didn't make any noise.

"A-A little sore..." You answered while closing your robe around your body more. The warmth you felt was definitely from the blanket you had when you woke. It was freezing in here, "Where am I? I figured you would drop me off at the nearest hospital and leave me there." You asked, with a small laugh at the end. Batman stopped typing on the computer and turned his chair to face you. He stood up, and you were in awe at his size. Not only was he tall, he was very well built. No wonder it was so easy for him to take down all those Court members. You felt very intimidated by his presence, but oddly attracted to it.

"You're in the Batcave. It's too dangerous to take you into any public setting. You have knowledge of the most dangerous group in the city, the entire Court is no doubt hunting for you." Batman explained, in the most monotone voice. You already knew this, but hearing it just made it worse. Where would you go? All of your possessions, money, your life was still at the Circus. You didn't have any family that cared for you anymore, and you had nowhere safe to go. The more you thought about your life being over, the more emotional you got. It made the man in front of you highly uncomfortable to watch you break down.

"You could have broken the bad news to her in a more gentle way. Maybe start with offering her warm clothes, Sir?" A British voice asked, followed by the sounds of footsteps coming down metal steps. You wiped your eyes quickly then looked over to see the man in the tailcoat that you saw briefly. His face was very familiar, but where? As he stepped closer, your eyes widened. This man was the butler of billionaire Bruce Wayne. You've seen him in pictures as well as on the news when Bruce Wayne made an appearance at events for the city. You looked from him to Batman, and you could tell from the uncovered parts of his face who was under the mask. It seemed that Batman also knew what you were thinking, so he lowered his mask.

"Would you like some warm clothes?"

"Ugh...excuse him, his bedside manner is in need of work."

You looked between the two men who just told you the one thing that the entire world wanted to know, and acted as if it wasn't a big deal. Did they trust you to keep the secret? Of course you would keep it, but how did they know they could trust you? Did they have some memory wiping device that would erase your memory after they got what they needed out of you? Judging from the tech that covered the place, it didn't seem that far fetched, "W-Why are you telling me your identity?" You finally ask after several seconds of awkward silence.

"I'm going to move you into my manor, that I way I can monitor you as well as get information about the circus." Batman answered while turning back towards the computer. Your jaw dropped a bit. He didn't even consider if you wanted to live with him or not. Not that you were going to turn it down. The chance to live in a mansion? You'd be stupid to refuse, "I will retrieve your things later, but I will take you to buy a new wardrobe in the morning." You're going to be spoiled too? Maybe you should be thanking the Court for kidnapping you.

"I suppose I should thank you then, Mr. Wayne." You said with a small smile. He turned towards you and gave you a small smirk.

"Call me Bruce."

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hihhasotherfixations · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 2: A/B/O - Price x Reader

Kinktober masterlist

CW: I wrote it gn, however, in my mind, all omegas have uteri. In other words, man, woman or gn, omegas have a cooch in order to make babeh. Sooo, it’s gn but with afab anatomy :3. Attempted assault (aka unwanted claiming – though not by Price), a/b/o dynamics, claiming, mating marks, unprotected p in v, possessiveness, praise, knotting, scenting

Word Count: 5602

This was supposed to be a drabble/short fic. Oops. Please keep in mind I won’t be writing long fics like this very much cause doing that every day is impossible, hence me posting this a day late and also at 4am :’)

But I hope you enjoy!! Cause I did have fun writing it UwU

Walking across the tarmac of base, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, a skittish feeling rising in your gut.

For the last few minutes, you’d felt as if you were being followed, your instincts going haywire, making you extra conscious of the scents in the air. And you had to, for you were an omega.

With a world made up of 63% beta’s and 24% alphas, the omegas were usually left out or singled out. And it was dangerous.

Throughout history, omegas had been plentiful. There was an omega for every alpha, multiple even. But as time went on, it became less and less desirable to be an omega, causing for selective breeding- and mated pairs to be made. Where there once was an omega for every alpha, slowly it became a beta for every alpha – and with the influx of beta’s, alphas’ numbers too dwindled, leaving the world in the state that it was today.

And while the percentages had changed, instincts hadn’t.

Glancing over your shoulder, you finally saw it: a body ducking behind a wall too slow.

It was no secret that the military was a breeding ground for alphas, the high status individuals drawn to the hierarchy and power-filled environment. That however, left omegas like you.

Even with modern day medicine and modifications, instinct was something that was impossible to suppress, and the low amount of omegas left in the population caused for those instincts to go haywire in alphas.

Any unclaimed omega was at risk. It is why suppressants had been invented, to ensure the safety, choice and free will of all parties involved.

Hiding your scent with the suppressants and making you as invisible as a beta, you were supposed to go under the radar. And you had been. In your entire career in the military, everyone had thought you were a beta. There was only one person in your team who knew – your captain, Price. But he never treated you differently for it.

Walking on, you repeated those words; ‘only Price knows, only Price knows’ like a mantra – but no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you were just paranoid, the man kept following you, causing your anxiety to raise.

Turning the corner to cut between buildings and get to the barracks quicker, you’d barely taken a step before your shoulder was grabbed and your body turned.

Harshly, you were pushed to the wall, your eyes wide as you looked at the black-haired, well-built man in front of you, his pupils dilated as he took you in - you were so deeply stuck in your head that you hadn’t heard him run up.

“Knew I smelt it.” He spoke lowly while his hands squeezed at your shoulders, confusing you while his form eclipsed yours. Before you could even open your mouth to ask what he meant, he leaned down to press his nose into the side of your neck where he sniffed, groaning in response.

Feeling that, your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the amount of pheromones he gave off, your nose clogging up and making you whimper on instinct.

That seemed to satisfy the man however, a low humming coming from him. “Unclaimed and walking around so shamelessly?” He grinned, pulling his face back as he instead placed a hand on your throat, keeping you under his thumb and pinned to the wall.

Your hands were on his chest, your breathing heavy and panicked. “Get off-“ You growled when he leaned back in, your right hand grabbing onto his face as you pushed his chin up, making the alpha growl in disdain.

“Stop that-“ He hissed the order, squeezing your throat which had your muscles freezing as his fingers pushed into your sensitive scent glands. It broke your focus long enough for him to grab your wrists and trap your arms together by your side, freeing himself up while his other hand stayed on your throat; commandeering. “Be a good omega and listen.” He huffed while nearly depriving you of all oxygen, your breaths small and weak.

Your mind however was spinning. He called you an omega. He was clearly acting on instinct and smelling you. But there was no way he should be able to.

With your arms pinned and your oxygen fleeting, you did the last thing your frantic mind could: slamming your knee up into his crotch before you swept his feet out from under him, causing the two of you to topple to the gravel together.

Slamming down side by side with a grunt, you struggled to pull your arms free but the man – to his credit – was quick, finding his feet fast enough to get on his knees and roll you underneath him, pinning you once more. His eyes fiery and angry, he re-gripped your neck, baring his teeth.

“You-!” Whatever else he was going to say was cut off as he was suddenly grabbed by the back of his uniform and thrown off of you.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, soldier?!”

Immediately, your eyes widened at the familiar voice, looking up to see captain Price standing between you and the alpha he just yanked off of you.

His feet firmly planted in a wide stance, Price’s hat cast a shadow over his face while he stood there, glaring at the one in front of him.

“C-Captain.” The guy mumbled from where he was laying in the gravel, seeming thrown off for a moment before he scrambled up, tugging his shirt back into place with misguided confidence. “This isn’t what it looks like, there was no need to interfere.”

Those words however, seemed to light a fire in Price as he stepped forward and grabbed the raven by his collar. “Oh really? Cause it looked a whole lot like you assaulting my soldier.” He hissed, pulling the man close towards his face.

Getting to your feet, your heart was still thudding in your chest as you looked at the two men. Their anger filled the scent in the air, neither seeming to want to back off as the sergeant – as you now saw on his chest – glared back at Price just as vehemently.

“I am entirely within my right to pursue an omega.” He growled, grabbing Price’s wrist to attempt to pry his hand off his shirt, but Price held fast, his head tilting.

“But that’s not what this was, is it?” He chuckled darkly. “Courting looks very different, mate. And I’m not going to allow you to lay a hand on my soldier, my omega.” He growled right back, a possessiveness in his voice and scent that quickly had the other alpha questioning his chances.

Even among base, Price was well known for his status. Not only as captain but also because he came from a long line of alphas, kept ‘pure’ by not mixing with betas.

Though it had been something Price had lamented to you about – giving back for you sharing your secret with him – now it served its purpose, causing the sergeant to take a step back.

Price allowed it, letting go of the man’s shirt with an authoritative shove, still keeping himself positioned so that the other alpha couldn’t even see you behind the captain’s broad shoulders. “Scram before I have you written up for forcibly marking.” Price spat, his voice low and filled with danger as he glared.

Stumbling back from the shove, the sergeant stayed for just a moment longer while he clenched his fists, looking at Price before he accepted his loss, scurrying away and back around the corner, out of sight.

The moment his immediate scent left the area, Price un-tensed, sighing out before he turned to face you, a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

Standing before the man, your breathing was still shallow, your hand cradling your throat as the reality of what happened settled in. In panic, your eyes shot up to his blue ones. “Price, I- I don’t know what happened, how he knew- I-“

Before you could continue, Price stepped up and pulled you into a hug, his breath stuttering a little as he did, though he held you all the same.

“It’s okay, just breathe.” He mumbled, cradling the back of your head. “This is on me, not you.”

“What?” You asked, pulling back to look at him, your eyes a little foggy as you tried to keep your panic down. “You came to my rescue in time, you’re not to blame.”

“No, that’s not…” Letting out a breath, Price stepped back, turning his head away to take a breath, trying to contain himself as your scent filled his nostrils, only seeming to get worse by the moment. “Come with me, I’ll explain.”

Confused, you nodded, taking a little step back and Price started walking, the sun beginning to set behind you.

His pace was firm while he kept glancing around, obviously still riled up from the confrontation earlier. And while you walked in silence with him, your mind was anything but.

Despite it however, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of your thoughts, simply following while you pushed your hands down on the scent glands on either side of your neck, hoping to stop spreading around your true nature.

Before long, you reached the 141’s barracks, walking inside and straight to Price’s office, to which he opened the door and let you walk in first, stepping inside after you where he closed and locked the door.

“What’s going on?” You managed to get out, still keeping your hands over your glands now that you were in a locked area with Price. Though you trusted him explicitly and knew he wouldn’t act on his instincts, you knew it was hard for him to fight against it. So to help his discomfort, you kept your hands firmly locked around your neck.

At your question, Price let out a deep sigh as his hand slipped off the doorknob. “You’ve been off your suppressants.” He eventually said, raising his head as he walked past you to his desk, making you frown in confusion.

“No, I’m not.” You spoke back. “I’m taking them. Every day.”

At your words however, Price shook his head no and opened a drawer low down his desk, bent over as he rummaged through it. “Those aren’t your suppressants.” He said as he found what he was searching for and smacked a pill bottle onto his desk for you to see. “I accidentally gave you the wrong one.”

Confused, you glanced at Price who had a guilty and frustrated look on his face before you glanced down at the pill bottle and walked up to his desk, pulling the container towards yourself.

Written on it in small lettering, there it stood.

‘Omega Scent Suppressants Recipient: Y/N L/N’

Snapping your head up, Price stood there, rubbing his forehead while his eyes were clenched shut. “I accidentally switched my migraine pills and your suppressants.” He spoke, sounding truly frustrated with himself. “I got the shipment for both on the same day and somehow mixed them up.”

“Oh…” You whispered and Price sighed, sitting down in his chair.

“It’s why I’ve been sick the last three days. I took what I thought was a pill for a migraine last Wednesday but it was your suppressant. It royally fucked me over physically. And it kinda still is. I wanted to take another migraine pill just earlier and that’s when I noticed.” Price explained, taking off his hat and rubbing his temple slightly before he raised his head and guiltily looked at you. “Which also means you’ve not taken your suppressants in a week.”

Realisation setting in, you gingerly sat down in the chair across from the captain, stunned. “So… their effect is wearing off and-“ “And the entire base can smell you’re an omega because of my cock-up.” Price nodded. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse, I should have been more careful.”

As his words sank in, you then looked up, shaking your head. “No, captain, this isn’t all on you.” You spoke, reaching out to grab his hands which he had clasped together on the desk. While this whole situation was fucked and dangerous, you weren’t about to let him eat himself alive – which you knew he would- and most likely had been doing. “You looked at those bottles twice to take a pill. I’ve been staring at mine every day and haven’t noticed. Don’t blame yourself for not noticing sooner because I never noticed at all.” You spoke, the smallest of smiles on your face and Price frowned.

“You’re taking this too lightly.” His voice was firm as he said that. “Even if you start your suppressants again now, it’ll take a day or two to take effect. By then, even if you hide away in your room, your scent will spread – if that bloody bastard hasn’t already squealed to his friends-“

Just at the mention of the other alpha, Price’s hackles raised again and you jumped in, holding his hands with both of yours now, pulling them a little closer to yourself. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s… not optimal but it would have to come out eventually. If I start with the suppressants again, maybe people will know I’m an omega, yes, but they won’t be driven mad by instincts. I’ll be fine.” You smiled but Price frowned in distaste, his muttonchops curling downward.

“I wish the world worked that way, love. I know alphas. And especially alphas in the army. As long as you’re unclaimed, they will behave like feral dogs, ripping each other to shreds just to get to you. You’re no longer safe. Especially the coming days.”

At his words, the blood drained from your face. “I can block my scent, it’ll be fine.” You said quietly, and Price just shook his head no with a sad smile.

“You’re going into heat soon. I can smell it on you.” Saying that, almost as if saying it out loud made it real for him as well, he pulled his hands back, gripping the edge of his desk as he blew out a breath. “God. You don’t know how hard it is for me to just sit here right now.”

At that, you looked up at him, feeling incredibly small of a sudden. “Then what can I do?”

“Either get claimed by someone you want, or go on an indefinite leave.” Price spoke. There was no room for argument, no room for any other possible options and tears filled your eyes.

“Leave?”

Sighing, Price got up from his desk and rounded it, turning your chair and crouching before you, taking your hands in his. “That’s not what I want. You’re my soldier. And a bloody good one too. But as my soldier, it is my job to look after you and keep you as safe as I can. This is the only way I can.” He spoke, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper at the end.

“Don’t make me leave.” You begged softly, feeling so defeated.

“I know. I know.” Price mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You’ll always be my soldier.” He assured, a little smile on his face. “And when you find…” Uncharacteristically, he stuttered in his speech, trailing off, almost as if it was hard to get out. “-And when you find a good mate,” He eventually managed to say, “you can come be my soldier again.”

Those words however struck a chord within you, his words from earlier playing in your mind. “Your soldier.” You repeated in a whisper, your eyes landing on his. “Your omega.”

As you spoke that phrase, a blush flamed to life on Price’s face, unable to be hidden even by his beard. “I- That was a spur of the moment thing. It shouldn’t have slipped out, I’m sorry.”

“Slipped out?” You ask softly, a small bead of hope beginning to settle in your chest. “Are you saying those words are normally in your mind?”

Sitting before you, Price swallowed, his breath a little laboured. “God, don’t do this to me.” He almost pleaded, the gravel in his voice increasing as his body unconsciously began to lean closer, his chest almost touching your knees. “I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

“Answer the question, captain.” You whispered and Price rattled out a breath, your scent starting to overwhelm him, causing his body to respond in kind, giving off his own receptive pheromones.

“Yes, they are on my mind.” He growled, getting up from his crouch as he instead loomed over you, placing his hands on either side of the backrest of your chair, caging you in. “Every damn day.”

For the umpteenth time today, your heart started hammering in your chest, yet for once, it wasn’t out of fear or anxiety. “Captain…” You whispered, seeing your own hopes and wants play out right in front of you.

“Leave, Y/N, before I can’t hold myself back anymore.” He whispered while his hand came up to cup your chin, his face leaning in next to yours as he closed his eyes, taking in your addicting scent. “Fuck-“ He huffed, having to physically restrain himself from nuzzling into you. “Go. Now.” He ordered yet you stubbornly stayed put.

“Is this something you want, captain?” You whispered, your own eyes closed as well as you took in the waves of want and need cascading from him. “Not just your instincts?”

At your words, he let out a short chuckle, turning his head to push his brow into your temple, the pure image of barely contained need.

“I’ve been wanting to court you since you first arrived at this base.” He growled, his lips now so close to your ear it nearly reverberated through your body. “You don’t know what you do to me. Please go. Please. I can’t pull away.” Price pleaded, a mix of want and despair.

“Price, I don’t want to.” You whispered back, his eyes opening at that.

“What?”

Carefully, you pulled away and turned your head to look at him. “I’ve already chosen who I want to be claimed by.”

At that, the man almost seemed to falter, re-gripping the backrest of the chair to keep himself standing properly as he looked at you, trying to steel the excitement rippling through him as he processed the meaning of your words. You wanted him. “Are you sure? This is a lifetime commitment.” He mumbled and at that, you couldn’t help but smile, the omega inside you almost floundering at the care he displayed.

Throughout all your time you’d known him, Price had been a pillar of safety and support. No matter what, he’d been there for you, and you’d fallen a long time ago.

This man was the only one you’d entrusted with your secret and the only man you could see yourself being with. And because of it, you said the next words without hesitation.

“Please, I want you. Always have.”

As if a flame alighted in Price with your agreement, his lips slammed into yours. Reaching down, he lifted you up faster than you could have expected as his hands grabbed onto your thighs, hoisting you up and supporting you against his body.

Squeaking in surprise, you wrapped your arms around his neck for stability, holding onto him while you kissed back, your eyes closing. The coarse hairs of his beard scratched against your skin while he moved his lips, kissing you as if his life depended on it.

Even as he started walking, Price didn’t break the kiss, his scent becoming overpowering in the most delicious way while he walked out of his office and down the hallways to his room, his hands starting to squeeze and fondle the meat of your thighs.

In record time he had reached the door, kicking it open before rolling inside, using your body to slam it shut as he pinned you against the wooden frame, finally breaking the kiss fully, giving the both of you time to breathe.

“Fuck, I’ve waited so long to do that.” Price whispered, leaning down and pressing his nose against your neck, groaning as your scent fully enveloped him. “My omega…”

At his words, a flutter coursed through you, happier than you could believe to hear him say that – actually say that.

“Please claim me, alpha.” You returned in kind as you begged, causing a shiver to rack down Price’s spine, his pupils blown with lust as he nipped at your neck before he pulled back to look at you.

“Gladly.”

With that, he pulled back from the door after locking it, swiftly walking to his bed where he lowered you down, carefully placing you on your back before he allowed himself to get on as well, climbing over you.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He whispered, finally able to openly stare at you as he took in how well your uniform clung sat on your body.

Laying beneath Price, your chest was heaving as you took him in. His hat was nowhere to be seen, forgotten in his office while he trapped you beneath him. The muscles of his arm bulged underneath his shirt, his chest moving with every breath as he shifted, moving to slot himself between your legs.

“I’m going to ask this one last time, love.” He spoke in a low tone, leaning down as he pressed a kiss by your chin before moving up to the corner of your mouth, kissing there as well. “Are you sure this is what you want? No going back.” He murmured, one of his hands landing on your waist, rubbing back and forth.

“I want this.” You said immediately, reaching your hands down to grab onto his belt, pulling him closer to you. “I want you, John.” You whispered and Price groaned, placing his hand on your cheek.

“You’ll have me.” He mumbled before kissing you, starting to untuck your shirt from your camo pants with his hand still on your waist, his palm immediately darting underneath the fabric the moment it could.

His hand was warm and rough, sending shivers up your spine as he traced your ribs up, stopping just short of your chest.

Humming in delight at the feeling of his hand, you began to undo his belt, the clinking sounding through the room besides your shared heavy breathing. Price didn’t seem to mind as he hiked your shirt up further, seeming just as eager as you were as he broke the kiss and smiled down at you.

“Look at you, already so good for me.” He hummed with a smirk.

Sitting back on his haunches, he reached over his head and grabbed his shirt at the back, yanking it off of himself before throwing it to the side, revealing his bare torso. Dark hair was scattered all over his chest, running down in a v-shape towards his stomach where it ran down until it disappeared into his happy trail, obscured still by his boxers – visible now that you had opened up his pants.

You were unashamedly staring and it was clear Price enjoyed it.

Staying put for another few seconds to let you stare, Price then leaned forward to hover over you again, his dog tags swinging by your neck now that they were no longer tucked under his clothes. “Show me.” He whispered, tugging at your shirt and you bit your lip, nodding as you obeyed the command.

Reaching down, your torso was bare in no time, making Price groan appreciatively. Grabbing hold of your waist, it was dwarfed by his large hands while he leaned down, starting to kiss from your stomach up to your neck, making sure to nip and suck at your nipples before he moved further up, starting to rub his cheek past yours before he leaned even further rubbing the side of his neck to yours as he scented you.

Your scent glands, extra sensitive due to the oncoming claim, caused you to shudder as he rubbed his own into yours. Slowly, what had been so distinctly alpha and omega in the air now mixed into one as Price then moved onto the other side of your neck and scented you there as well, a groan in the back of his throat as his hips bucked into yours.

Just feeling his erection - straining against his clothing - caused a whimper to pull from you as you quickly faded into the submissive mentality that came with a claiming; your instincts taking over.

“Fuck, please, I need you.” You whimpered, almost feeling as if you’d gone into heat just from how needy you were becoming, your underwear stained with your own arousal, making it uncomfortable to stay in.

“I know, I’m here.” Price soothed, equally riled up though he managed to hide it better, putting you as priority while he began unbuckling your pants, quickly discarding it together with his own, leaving you both in nothing but underwear.

Seeing the wet stain on the fabric, Price growled low in his throat as he placed his hands on your inner thighs and spread your legs, giving himself a better view while he rubbed his thumb over the spot.

The scent of your arousal filled the air, joining with your combined pheromones and that was enough to do the alpha in, his patience faltering as he reached out and ripped through your underwear, tearing the fabric before he threw it away – useless now.

Transfixed, he stared at your glistening folds, his erection straining against his own underwear as he now used both thumbs to spread you open, getting a good look at every part of you. “Fuck, such a perfect pussy.” He spoke almost under his breath, as if it wasn’t meant to be said out loud. Yet you heard all the same, making you whine as you bucked your hips towards him, almost inviting him to take you.

Something Price wasn’t going to pass up.

Quickly discarding his own underwear, Price panted as he grabbed hold of his cock. Pumping himself a few times, you could see he was leaking precum, his tip an angry red while he positioned himself back between your legs, the tip pressed to your folds.

“I’m going to claim you. My mate, my omega. Do you understand?” He spoke, his voice a low gravel and you nodded desperately, making Price groan as he leaned forward and buried his face into the side of your neck, his eyes closed. “Are you ready?” He whispered and you hummed, spreading your legs even wider.

With that final consent, Price then began pushing his cock into you.

Sliding inside inch by inch, you gasped for breath while the alpha stretched you out, taking his time as he moved bit by bit, his hips stuttering whenever he did, as if he was still firmly holding himself back.

Yet none of that was on your mind, as all you could think about was to feel him inside you. Without warning, your legs wrapped around his waist before you locked them together and pulled, forcing Price fully inside of you, causing a groan to leave him as your wet heat enveloped him entirely.

Immediately, the faux-heat that had began to develop inside you rocketed the pleasure to eleven. Just the feeling of him entering you had your toes curling as you gasped, borderline on the brink of orgasm already.

Caught off guard by your action, the alpha then steeled himself, firmly planting his hands on your hips. Given how wet you were, Price slowly began to thrust, unable to wait while he leaned in and kissed you, his beard scraping deliciously against your skin while he began fucking you.

What started out slow quickly picked up in pace, neither of you willing to wait. While you let out little breaths every time he bottomed out, the captain grunted in pleasure while the sound of skin slapping on skin began to ring in the room.

“Fuck you feel so good. Exactly like I imagined.” Price huffed as he kissed around your throat, his right hand coming down to push into your clit.

Immediately, your back arched and you whined loudly, causing the man to keep rolling his thumb over the nub, your shallow breathing turning to little moans while he thrusted into you, your head feeling thick and foggy as you could barely comprehend the orgasm you were on the precipice of.

You didn’t even have time to be embarrassed. The two of you had barely started before you were already orgasming as he pushed down onto your clit one more time, making you moan as you arched your back, your walls beginning to clench and spasm around the alpha fucking into you, an appreciative groan echoing from his throat at the feeling. “Bloody hell, love.” He panted while you trembled.

Even as you rode out your orgasm, Price never stopped thrusting, a ring of white appearing around his cock from your cum now as he pushed right through.

“Fuck, John-“ You moaned, not even given time to recover or breathe as he started speeding up his thrusts.

“Keep going like this and I can’t hold out long.” Price groaned, grabbing the back of your knees before pushing up, pinning them to your chest as he put you in a mating press, his cock dragging in and out of your walls at a rapid pace, making your whimpers and moans increase.

Where there usually should have been overstimulation, now you only felt pleasure, the uncanny ability for an omega to turn the sensitivity of pleasure up yet remove overstimulation rearing its head. After all, the more aroused and pleasured, the more fertile, as well as to keep up with an alpha’s stamina in rut.

“John- Alpha-“ You cried, completely trapped under him as he put his full weight onto you, keeping you in a mating press for him, causing his thrusts to hit deeper than before, his tip hitting straight onto your g-spot with every single thrust.

His hips slapping into the back of your thighs, you were a panting, moaning and sweaty mess, barely able to hold onto your own mind as he fucked you straight towards another orgasm, his shaft squelching with each thrust, making you whine as slowly, the base of his cock started to swell.

Panting, Price began stretching you out further and further with each thrust as his knot began to grow, indicating his climax was near.

Every thrust became more shallow than the previous while his movements sped up, fucking into you now to chase his own release as his knot slowly became too big to fit as he pounded into you.

“God, I’m gonna make you mine.” Price panted, his eyes focused, dead set on your neck and you whimpered out a moan.

“Please, please, fuck, I need your knot!” You begged, pushing back into every one of his thrusts now, needing to feel the swell of his cock inside you, feel it plug you up to keep his cum in, fully marking you as his, inside and out.

“You want it, love?” Price panted, smiling as he kept thrusting, the bulbous knot at the base of his shaft teasing your entrance every time, beginning to push in before it met too much resistance and the alpha pulled back before thrusting again.

“Yes!” You whined, grabbing onto the chain of his dog tags to pull him down. “Please!” You cried and that was all it took.

Groaning loudly in pleasure, Price tightly grabbed hold of your hips and pulled, pushing his cock into you at the same time, forcing himself past the resistance of your tight entrance.

Instantly, the both of you moaned and Price started shallowly thrusting as much as his cock allowed, his release mere moments away as he continued to thrust.

“Fuck, fuck-!” The captain growled before darting forward and sinking his teeth into the point where your shoulder met your neck, slamming into you as deep as he could go at the same time, grinding his pelvis into yours while his knot swelled fully as he came.

Hot, white seed shot into you, painting your walls as his orgasm washed over him.

With his teeth embedded in your flesh, he marked you inside and out, pumping his hips as he filled you with release, his knot trapping every single drop inside of you as ropes of cum continued to spurt into you, filling you up in a sensation you’d never experienced before.

Moaning at the feeling, it hurtled you into another orgasm as you sharply arched your back, causing Price to bite down harder as he created the mating mark, making sure he wouldn’t slip even as you squirmed, the pain only intensifying your climax as your breath was knocked out of you, your walls attempting to clench around his knot but unable to, simply too stretched as they were.

Yet as Price’s high faded while he became fixed to you through his knot, you were still on cloud nine. With both your orgasms, the heat in your body faded, replaced by a pleasurable thrum that flickered in your belly.

The both of you were panting and sweaty, Price pulling away from your neck, a deep bite mark sitting right around your left scent gland.

His mark.

With his seed kept inside you by the plug of his knot, and the permanent mating mark around your scent gland, you knew you were now full and well Price’s omega.

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #price smut #captain price smut #john price smut

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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imagine being loved by me

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 6 — The night we said goodbye. [“This is harder than I thought it’d be.”] [2.5k]

— joel miller x f!reader — a/n: this is mostly fluff and angst, hence the lack of warnings. i hope you guys enjoy this even though there's no smut. there are a lot of feelings to make up for that? anyway, i just wanted to imagine being loved by Joel (in the given canon circumstances) and this is what I came up with. enjoy <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | part two →

"Eternal tourists of ourselves, there is no landscape but what we are. We possess nothing, for we don't even possess ourselves. We have nothing because we are nothing. What hand will I reach out, and to what universe? The universe isn't mine: it's me," you stop there, uncertain and nervous for more than one reason. "You want me to go on?"

Joel only grunts beneath you, and the palm he has wrapped around your calf starts rubbing there. He's a man of very few words — always has been — but you recognize his cues. Go on, the circles on your skin say. And — "I like it a lot when you read," he speaks, startling you for a second. "'s nice."

Three years since you've been doing this — years, and this is the night Joel chooses to speak his mind.

You grit your teeth and put on a smile, no matter how much it aches to do so. "Look at you, borrowing Pessoa's ability to use words 'n all," you tease.

Joel pinches your inner thigh — a warning.

You take one of your hands out of the book to poke his side — I'm not scared of you. Never was. Never could be.

Even if he's about to break your heart.

You continue reading.

He keeps on drinking it in, and you wonder not for the first time if Joel hears a word that comes out of his mouth or if this is just white noise for him.

I like it a lot when you read.

Inside your chest there's a special place saved only for the things Joel gives you as a gift.

There's no space for material things in the world you live in now. Being a man of very few words, you learned how to read Joel Miller from the moment you met him — a useful skill, one that came in handy over the past few years. People misread him a lot. Mostly because he allowed them to; sometimes because he wanted it that way.

They thought Joel was gruff. Callused.

You knew better.

Joel's body language never lied.

He gifted you things that way — a shrug of his shoulders that hid the fathom of a smile creeping up his face. His furrowed brows pierced together whenever someone spoke in louder tones in your presence. The ghost of his hand hovering over your back in between meetings, or the way he never looked you in the eye before kissing you.

All of them signs. All of them a way for him to communicate.

That was funny. I don't like their tone. I've got your six.

I can't let you see within me.

Joel might as well be an open book.

When Tess introduced the both of you, she said, "Just don't gain expectations. He's like us — lost everything. But he's a decent man, which is more than we can say about half of the people that made it."

A decent man was an understatement.

He was everything and then some in between.

Joel kept it simple when telling you that he and Tess had to leave.

Neither one of them owed you explanations, but they gave you one either way. The three of you ran something together — an illegal, dangerous, and fragile something, but it was yours. Built it from your hands.

They claimed you were the brains.

"You gotta stay," Joel stated. Not a request, and nothing in his eyes that said this is open for conversation. "Marlene gave us very little info. We'll try to make it back as soon as we can."

The implicate we don't know if we'll make it back was there.

You never missed the unspoken words.

"Okay," you agreed, because there was nothing else for you to do.

Tess had left with the kid. She hugged you, giving you the full list of contacts that would be seeing you for things, and said, "Take care of yourself" in the way she always did.

Joel stayed behind to collect what he needed, and because he said a day wouldn't make a difference.

Was it over-confident on your part to allow the fluttering in your chest to take full form after seeing him drop his things on your hardwood floor and ask you to go for a walk? Was it wishful thinking to know he was stealing moments?

The familiar sight of his back gives you comfort as you follow him.

That's the way it's always been — you always knew that one day, you'd see this for the last time.

Maybe it's a small mercy that they're leaving.

It's been years—much longer than you initially thought you'd have, much longer than you prayed for after the first night Joel knocked on your bedroom door seeking the comfort he saw in your eyes you were dying to give him, much longer than you dreamed you would have amidst all the chaos.

He walks through the broken gate and keeps the wire lifted for you to pass.

Those things — the little things no one pays attention to.

"Thanks," you smile at him.

He hums as an answer and keeps walking by your side until you're both on the open field. After checking the area, Joel lays down with a grunt, patting the grass next to him.

That's when you started reading.

He just pulls out the book from his backpack and hands it to you.

Read for me, please.

"From where we left off, or you want me to go back a few?" Sometimes, Joel fell asleep mid-chapter. He liked when you went back a few so he never missed a thing.

He shakes his head. "I was listenin'," he lets you adjust yourself on the tree, and lays with his head on his backpack, pulling your legs over his body. Cradling your calf in his palms. "Go on."

So you do.

The sky is losing its light by the time Joel takes his arm out of his eyes, and puts a hand in front of the pages.

You bookmark it, even if he'll never hear the end of it.

For some reason, you stay quiet with him.

Usually, the silence is filled with you — your ramblings, questions about the world from before, silly musings that he indulges in listening to.

There's something tragic about being alive nowadays.

It's not really living — it's this. Reading between the lines, and claiming your stomach is satisfied because of the crumbs.

Joel's hand caressing your skin was a whole meal.

His eyes on you, above everything else, were like water.

When he speaks, it's gruff. "You gonna take care of yourself while I'm gone, right?"

If one day you held back, today is not it. "I will. Can't undo all your hard work."

He frowns, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, c'mon, Joel. It's just us. You and I both know I'd never be alive if it weren't for you and Tess."

"Bullshit. You're the—"

"Brains, I know," you interrupt. "But without the brawn, the brains can't make it that far."

He scoffs at that, and you realize your mistake only when the words are out. "Think we both know nature said that ain't the case anymore."

"Stupid nature," you curse without any heat, and it works. Joel's lip twitches, itching for a smile. "All it's good for is being gorgeous."

"Hm. That'd be you."

Well. They aren't the first nice words Joel's ever said to you, but they make up an even bigger space than everything else. The little box in your chest engraved with J.M. is blanketed in those three little words, and judging by the way he ducks his chin and looks down, Joel noticed his slip up a heartbeat too late.

"Are you gonna take care of yourself?" you ask, nudging his side.

Joel sits up before he answers, taking the place next to you. Then, he spreads his legs and pats the ground between them, and you take the invitation.

Sitting with your back to his chest and his arms around you is your favorite place to be, and something clutches at your throat at the realization this might be the last time.

"I always do," he finally answers.

Your throat is tight, so you place both hands over his arms and pull them tighter around you. "Good," your voice drops to a whisper. "Can't let stupid nature have you."

"She gets us all in the end."

"I know that. I meant before your due time," you insist.

Joel's only half-listening. When he starts rubbing his nose on your hair, tracing the outline of your ears, that means his attention is divided. "How d'you know when's one's due time?"

"Hell if I know. But I know it's not now."

"Yes, ma'am," he plants a kiss on your neck, and you forget words for a while.

Joel always knew how to do that.

He kissed you awake, and sometimes, he kissed you to sleep.

It was common for the two of you to just sit and exist in silence. In a world where there wasn't much space for anything — not for words, or feelings, or relationships, or growth — having this was out of the curve. Having comfort.

He never tensed around you.

When it's just the two of you, Joel's body is the most relaxed; whether it's due to your hands squeezing his muscles or the way you run your palms through his skin to bring him back to himself—he's at ease.

Laid back, shoulders slack. He keeps on leaving kisses across your neck and nape, and you keep your eyes closed, enjoying the proximity. Your nails run through his forearms, and eventually, Joel just stops there in the crook of your neck, breathing slowly.

He asks, "D'you mind if I take your bandana? The purple one?"

Your favorite bandana. His 'lucky charm', as he'd called it once. "No, you can have it."

"You ain't gonna miss it?"

I'll miss you, Joel. A piece of cloth makes no difference in my life. "You need the good luck charm more than me."

"Is that so?"

You scoff, "I'm not the one walking head-first into danger." Craning your neck to look at his face, you lean your head on his shoulder. Joel's face is impassive as always, aside from the little pinch between his brows. "It's your good luck charm, isn't it?"

"It is," he replies, faster than you're used to. A smile grows back on your face. "What?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "Just — didn't think you'd ever say that again."

He shrugs his shoulders. "'s the truth."

"What made it lucky?"

Joel takes a second with that one. His hand around your upper body finds the collar of your shirt, and he plays with it. He's nervous, and you have no idea why. He shrugs as he says, "Dunno."

Bullshit. "Hmm — something tells me you do."

"Yeah?" he's smiling now.

"Yup," you press, popping the 'p'. Joel stops fighting his smile, and you want to kiss him, so you do. Most of the time, you use restraints around him. Now is not the time for restraint. "Tell me," you plea.

He sighs, the smile still on his face. "That first time I was trying to find alternative routes in and out of the QZ, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So — I'd lost my way. Some Clickers found me and I had to run. Lost my shit—dropped some of the stuff in my bag. I only found my way back 'cause two days later I tried the bridge over the place I got lost at initially and — there it was." Joel's fingertips are tracing your collarbones, and you realize now his body around you is the only thing keeping you from a collapse. "I saw that ugly thing from far, far away."

It makes you laugh — of course he's going to play it cool, make it less of what it is.

You get it. If you had to talk about the things that brought you a sense of home, the only thing that came to mind was the smell of Joel's deodorant mixed with the innate smell of him.

You hide your laugh in his chest, and Joel's hands come up to your nape and the back of your head.

The hurt bubbles up with his touch — you want to drown in your own tears, but he's still here and that would be going before your due time.

"Please be safe." It's rare for you to use the space between the lines, but sometimes you have to.

Please be safe because I need you. Because you've grown inside me. Because the smell of you are vines covering every inch of my ribcages, because every time I wake up and you're lying next to me I remember why we're humans, because Fernando Pessoa might have been right that we possess nothing, but what I am is someone who still knows love.

"I will." Joel heard it all. He pulls your head back to look into your eyes and you see it in his — through the guarded walls of his soul, you get a peak at the man who worries. Who always brings you coffee, who never allowed you to go on dangerous runs, who trusts you to keep his radio codes in case his brother calls for him. You're the lighthouse, he once said. Joel's hand keeps making a mess of your hair, and he looks like he wants to say something, but ultimately, he huffs. "This is harder than I thought it'd be."

"Of course it is," you laugh. "I'm the only one that knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. Or at least, one that you like."

That's when he kisses you.

Because it's true. Not the cup of coffee — Tess can do that as well, even if she never does, but the reality that you're the only one that can and wants to.

The only one who's allowed it.

Living in a world that has no space for living is difficult, but Joel manages to fit the whole human experience in the span of a kiss and some touches.

He's kept you safe, and guarded, and gave you blinks and pieces of the man he once was in return for all that you've given him.

He loves quietly, and kisses hard, and protects with every cell in his body — Joel still loves, even if the word's been burned out of his tongue when he held the most precious life known to him in his arms.

He loves, and you feel it, and you'll miss it.

Joel pulls back with a promise in his eyes that he will be back.

If he isn't, you'll be a moving lighthouse. You'll find him.

☆ join my writing challenge ☆

#usernexusnyx #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou imagine #nightskychallenge #joel miller au

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 8 months

Text

Revenge

Summary: Scared to end up alone you hang on to your marriage of 15 years to your cheating husband, continuing to play the perfect wife. But then you meet Dave York, your husbands boss, on one of his work events and things take a very surprising turn....

Pairing: Dave York x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 5.5k

Rating: E

Warnings: infidelity, angst, forced cucking (cheating husband has to watch his wife have sex with one Dave York), smut (unprotected sex, oral f receiving), Cum play, public fingering, use of the word whore, intense eye contact, flirting like woah

A/N: I worked on this for four weeks and I'm super proud of it. Please let me know what you think. Some people might recognise the scene at the bar from the movie Shame.

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics an turn on notifications to get notified for new fic updates

You would be lying if you said you did not imagine yourself in this situation before.

Sitting with an attractive man at a bar, flirting. Maybe even something more…

Many lonely nights in the bed you should be sharing with your husband left your mind wandering to what life could be like if you had married a man who respected and loved you.

Though you were pretty sure Calvin did love you in the beginning, maybe he even loved you now. In his… own way. It just changed somewhere between moving into your first real home together and you getting a job that paid more than his.

You just weren’t enough to… satisfy all his physical needs anymore, hadn’t been for a long time. It was an open secret that he was cheating on you, you just weren’t brave enough to leave him, even though you could. You had the job, the friends, the money. You just… did not know how to be alone.

Which was a stupid thing to think because you spent the majority of your relationship being alone.

It came to a point where you weren’t even mad or hurt anymore, whenever you found stains of lipstick on his shirts that you for some reason still washed for him.

It was… easier living this lie than separating from the man you had been with for the last fifteen years. You loved the life you had built together. You just wished you weren’t so miserable and lonely living it alone.

You hadn’t slept with Calvin since you found out about the first time he cheated on you, which was almost eight years ago. He said he was sorry, begged for your forgiveness, which you granted him. But you told him that you wouldn’t sleep with him before he would prove that you could trust him to be honest and faithful with you. That, and a clean bill of health.

He never did.

You were more like roommates at this point. And even though you did not know the exact extent of his infidelity, you still played the perfect wife for him whenever he needed you to.

You looked away when he flirted with women much younger than you when you were out. Which wasn’t often. Only when there was something from work or something your friends had invited you both.

It was one of those work events he insisted you accompany him, leaving you sitting alone as soon as you entered the place at the bar.

You were about to call it a day when a man sat down next to you.

Calvin was off somewhere while you were sitting in a darker corner at the bar, enjoying your martini as he, his boss Dave York, introduced himself to you, inviting you for another drink

There was something in his eyes when you told him your name. A glint of interest when he learned that you were the wife of Calvin Miller.

You learned that Dave was recently divorced and had moved into an overpriced penthouse that felt too empty and sterile. His wife had fallen in love with another woman and because he did not want to stay in the way of her happiness, he had let her and his two daughters move all the way to Europe while he stayed back.

Dave York was… charming, hot and had something dangerous about him that made you only more interested in him. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone was really interested in you and what you had to say.

You saw Calvin across the room, talking to one of the serving girls who was blushing furiously as she looked at him while he tried to charm his way into her pants.

Sighing you closed your eyes, taking a sip from your drink, breathing in deeply, finding Dave looking at you.

“You know he’s fucking himself through the whole city right?” he asked.

You nodded.

“I know he’s cheating frequently, I just.. Chose to ignore how many women exactly he fucks as long as it doesn’t happen in our home.”

Dave sucked his bottom lip in, intrigued.

“You don’t mind?”

You shrugged.

“Part of me does. Sometimes I feel like a coward for not leaving him. I know I deserve more. I deserve someone who loves me and respects me. Who asks me how my day was, who notices when I got a new hair colour, who…. Fuck I just feel so lonely sometimes.”

“So why don’t you leave him?”

“Honestly?” you whispered, sucking your bottom lip in. Dave nodded, turning in his seat to lean a little closer towards you. You smelled his aftershave, allowing yourself to take a deep breath before you answered him.

“I don’t think I know how to live on my own, and staying where I am even if it sucks is… easier? We met in highschool, got married before we got out of college. I have spent my whole adult life with him. Fuck… I never even had sex with anyone other than him,” you chuckled humorlessly.

“Do you want to?” Dave asked and you looked up.

“Do I want what?”

“Have sex with someone else?”

His hand came to rest on your knee and you shivered, your eyes on his hand. His fingers were softly squeezing just above your knee. You felt each of his fingers on you, only separated by the thin material of the silk dress you were wearing. You looked up, your lips parting.

“Dave…”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know? If I had you in my house, in my home, in my bed?” he leaned in closer, his lips brushing over your ear and your eyes slipped close. Unintentionally you parted your legs, your dress revealing a glimpse of your inner thigh and you shuddered as he took this as an invitation, his fingers slowly running up your inner thigh.

“I’d make sure your pussy is the only one I’m fucking. I might be an asshole, but I’m a loyal asshole,” his nose brushed over your neck as he seemed to inhale your scent, his fingers slipping deeper between your legs which seemed to part even wider for him with ease.

“Did he ever go down on you?” he hummed, his fingers brushing over the soaked fabric of your lace panties. You released a shuddering breath, closing your eyes.

“I bet he hasn’t treated this pussy properly. I’d make sure you’d soak my face every single day when I had you in my bed, my kitchen counter, my desk…” his fingers hooked into your panties, pulling them to the side.

“Look at me,” he whispered and while your eyes opened he slowly pushed two of his fingers inside of you. A part of you knew that you were in a public space, yet looking into Dave’s dark eyes made you feel like you were the only two people on the planet.

He slowly moved his fingers, your body screaming in pleasure from the way his fingers seemed to know just how to touch you, while you tried to keep a straight face as he kept looking at you with dark eyes.

“I like to slip my tongue deep inside of you,” he hummed and you couldn’t help but gasp as his fingers pulled out of your pussy, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You looked down at his fingers, your eyes following them as he brought them up to his lips. You could see them glistening with your juices, while he brought them up to his mouth sucking them clean.

“Just when you’re about to cum, licking you clean before I finally give you my big cock,” he tilted his head to the side, looking at you as he licked his lips with a filthy smirk.

You jumped in your seat when an arm sneaked around your middle from behind, your eyes leaving Dave’s to find Calvin standing next to you, glaring at you before he looked at Dave.

“I see you met my wife, Dave,” he said.

“I did and It’s Mr. York to you, Miller,” Dave said bored, picking up his drink to take a sip, keeping his eyes on you.

You were still flushed, your brain trying to get back to speed.

“How come you are here with your wife and not in the bathroom getting your dick sucked by one of the college waitresses, Miller?” Dave asked.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Dave,” Calvin said, letting go of you to grab your drink, chugging it down himself. Dave looked amused at you and then at him, his face hardening.

“Come on, we’re all friends here, don’t lie in front of your wife,” he said. You risked a glance at Calvin who looked at his boss with his lips parted in shock.

Dave looked at you then, a silent challenge in his eyes.

“I love my wife,” Calvin said and you snorted. His head snapped to look at you.

“You sure have a funny way of showing it,” you rolled your eyes and Dave laughed.

“Tell you what, why don’t you go back to whatever cunt you were after and I keep your wife company,” Dave said.

“With all due respect, Dave…” Calvin began to talk but Dave shot him a dark look.

“Call me Dave one more time and see what happens, Mister Miller,” he threatened and you felt Calvin stiffen beside you. Interesting.

He took a deep breath before he looked at you.

“I was gonna head home,” Calvin said, looking at you with a question in his eyes. You turned your head to look at Dave. You didn’t want to leave. And you knew Calvin only lied about going home because he either didn’t find someone else to fuck or… because he had a weird spurge of jealousy now that someone was giving you attention and felt like he had a claim on you. Which a silly part of your brain made you feel powerful.

“I’m sure Dave can give me a ride later?” you asked, with an eyebrow raised. Dave chuckled, one of his hands coming back to rest on your knee.

“Of course I can, Sweetheart.”

When Dave drove you home a couple hours later, Calvin wasn’t home. Not that you were surprised.

Dave and you had spent the whole evening talking. And flirting. Call it needy and years of neglect, but fuck you wanted him.

You invited Dave in for a drink and he followed you into your home.

Sitting beside him in your living room you sighed.

“I feel so… Fuck I don’t know. Weak? Silly? Worthless? Like a fucking victim, even though I have everything I need to just…. Live my own life and don’t let him humiliate me like that.”

Dave sighed.

“Ending a marriage is not easy. Feelings aren’t something you can’t just turn off. You’re not worthless. You are… fucking perfect,” Dave said and you turned your head to look at him.

“I want him to feel how humiliated he makes me feel,” you said.

“What are you thinking?”

You sucked your bottom lip in, blaming the idea forming in your head on your slightly tipsy brain.

“Are you free on friday?” you asked, a plan forming in your mind. He narrowed his eyes.

“I can be.”

You nodded, sucking your bottom lip in. You took both of your glasses, setting them down on the coffee table. Dave watched your every move as you got up, coming to stand between his legs.

You didn’t know if it was the drinks you had or the way Dave York had given you his whole attention for the last hours, but you just wanted to feel something. Or someone.

“It’s our anniversary,” you said quietly as you slowly settled down into Dave’s lap, straddling him. His hands came to rest on your upper thighs immediately, his hands pushing the skirt of your dress up, as your hands rested on his shoulders. You closed your eyes, your skin heating under his intense gaze.

“I haven’t been fucked in eight years,” you whispered, moaning when you felt Dave’s hands wander over your body, squeezing your ass, pulling you closer towards him. You gasped as your clit rubbed just right over his growing bulge.

“And… And I think I want you to fuck me while he has to watch,” unintentionally you began to move your hips against him. He smirked.

“Eight years?” he asked and you nodded. He hummed.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” you whispered and he suddenly pulled at the belt of your wrap dress, the fabric falling open.

“Fuck me,” he uttered under his breath, the green lace lingerie you were wearing driving him wild. One of his hands came back to squeeze your ass, while his other hand palmed one of your breasts.

“Can you cum like that? Just with your needy little clit rubbing against me?” he asked and you moaned, your head nodding.

“Then make yourself cum,” he said, before he leaned in and sucked on your nipple through your bra.

“Fuck,” you cried out, rubbing yourself against him.

“That’s it, you want me to fuck you in front of your cheating husband? Then cum for me,” he snarled, slapping your ass.

“I’m gonna… Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, throwing your head back as your orgasm rolled through your body, making you shake against Dave. He helped you ride it out before you felt his hand in your neck as he pulled you towards him, crashing his lips against yours in a deep kiss.

“When should I be here on friday?“ He asked and you smiled.

Like every year, Calvin invited you for dinner for your anniversary in your favourite restaurant.

Or more like, in the restaurant he thought was your favourite restaurant.

He had given you the silent treatment since you decided to spend the evening with Dave instead of him, and you weren’t complaining.

Something had changed since that night. You changed.

He bought you a gift (a new vacuum cleaner, my god were you lucky), kissed you on the cheek and then ordered your dinner for you as soon as you sat down in the restaurant.

You were quiet all evening, letting him vent about work and about how lucky he was to have you as his wife, smiling like the obedient little wife you were for him.

Whenever he got up for a smoke, or to the bathroom or to order new drinks from the blonde bartender you reached for your phone, texting with Dave.

It had been six days since you met him and the lust you were feeling for him was almost overwhelming. Maybe it had to do with you being sexually frustrated, but the way he talked to you made you want to be his good girl, eager to please him however you wanted to.

He was very attentive, sending you gifts every single day while Calvin was in the office. You were working from home, surprised when Monday rolled around and a bouquet of red roses were delivered around lunch time.

The next day it was a bracelet.

The day after that lingerie.

Part of you was overwhelmed with the attention you were receiving, while another part just wanted to let you enjoy it.

You were rational, you knew whatever would happen with Dave York would not have a future. He wanted to fuck you, and you wanted to be fucked. Badly.

And who were you to argue about your husbands boss being the one to fuck you brains out as a little… revenge?

You rolled your eyes as you saw the waitress slip Calvin his number after he went to pay.

You had an AirBNB booked and most of your clothes and stuff already moved there yesterday. Earlier today you met with an divorce attorney.

This was happening.

You would be leaving him. Tonight.

After he watched you being fucked by his boss.

The only concern you had about the plan you set in motion was how you would make Calvin stay. But Dave had only told you that he’d make sure he would, not telling you how exactly he would achieve it. But you trusted him anyway.

You had done a lot of thinking this last week. Maybe you had just needed someone to confide in, to tell you that you were worth more than being just a silly little wife.

Healing from these last years would take a while, but you were ready to take your life back.

Starting today.

You had told Dave that you would leave the backdoor unlocked, so you weren’t surprised when you found him sitting in the armchair next to your bed in the bedroom when you made your way upstairs after coming back home.

Calvin was downstairs, picking a bottle of wine most likely in the hopes to get you drunk so he could try to get into your pants later.

He tried this every year, some weird sense of martial duty coming over him. Not that he ever succeeded.

And you had to give it to him, at least he did not spend your wedding anniversary fucking another pussy.

“Hey,” Dave hummed, getting up as he walked over to you.

“Hey,” you smiled, nerves kicking in as your head tilted down, watching your feet nervously.

“You look beautiful,” he said and you couldn’t help but sigh. You had decided on a new dress, black, with a zipper in the front that ran down the whole length. You wanted do look pretty.

For Dave.

You felt his fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes finding yours.

“Are you still sure about this?” he asked. You took a deep breath before you nodded slowly.

“Just… Just nervous. It’s been a while…. And…. I don’t know about him… here”

“We can get out of here. Just say the word and I’ll leave.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you brought a hand up, resting it on his chest. He covered your hand with his.

“I want you to….” you pursed your lips, unable to say those words.

“You want me to fuck you?” he whispered with a small grin. You nodded.

“I want to fuck you too. Been thinking about your pussy since last week. Tasted so fucking good. You just need to decide if you want me to fuck you here, with your soon to be ex husband watching, or if I should take you to my place and make this pussy, my pussy, weep for me,” you felt his breath on your face as he whispered those words, your knees getting weak.

“How… How about… both?” you finally asked with a shy little smile.

He kissed you then, his lips pressing against yours for a quick but powerful moment. You whimpered.

“Greedy,” he hummed with a smirk.

“Where is he?” Dave asked as he slowly led you to your bed.

“Getting wine to make me drunk enough to fuck him,” you snorted and Dave rolled his eyes.

You yelped when he pushed you against the mattress, hovering over you immediately, his eyes darkening. You parted your legs and he settled between them. Your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his weight on top of you.

“Pathetic little fucker,” Dave hissed before he kissed you again.

You melted against him.

His tongue invaded your mouth, playing with yours, one of his hands running up your thigh.

“Dave,” you gasped, clutching the sheets as he kissed down your jaw.

“You smell so fucking good,” he hummed, softly sucking on your neck. his fingers playing with the front zipper of your dress, pulling it slowly until the pink lace he had gifted to you was revealed beneath.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” you heard a yell, following from a bottle shattering on the floor. Dave did not stop pulling at the zipper, his eyes on yours, until your bra was fully visible, the delicate lace hiding next to nothing.

“I’m about to eat your wife’s pussy,” Dave said and you could not help but moan as he lowered his head, his lips kissing the soft skin above your tits.

“You can’t… What the fuck…” Calvin cursed and you caught his eyes when he rounded the bed, now standing so he could look at you.

“Sucks to be on the other side, huh?” you asked him, hearing Dave chuckle, before he pulled at the lace, his lips closing around your left nipple, making you arch your back against his chest.

“You’re… you’re my wife,” Calvin argued and you moaned as Dave sucked.

“Happy fucking anniversary,” you moaned, your hands unclenching from the sheets to bring them into Dave’s hair, pushing him against your tits.

“I’m… I’m not gonna watch this,” Calvin said in disbelief, intending to turn around and leave.

“You sit right there on that chair and watch me fuck your wife, Miller,” Dave hissed, voice dangerously low, turning his head to look at Calvin who stopped in his tracks.

You pussy clenched at his tone.

“Or what?” Calvin asked, not looking back. Dave found your eyes, kissing you quickly before he got up from the bed, walking over to Calvin.

He leaned into him, whispering something against his ear. You saw Calvin clench his fists as he took a deep breath before he slowly turned around and walked over to the chair Dave had apparently put there just for him.

Calvin’s eyes found yours and he clenched his jaw as he sat down.

“Now, where were we?” Dave asked and you turned your head to look at him. Slowly he unbuttoned his dress shirt, pushing it off his shoulder, revealing his broad chest. Your eyes lingered all over his body, the prominent outline of his cock confided in his pants making your mouth water.

Funny that just a week ago you had not missed sex at all, when now you could not wait for the man in front of you to ruin you.

You sucked your bottom lip in as you looked up at him.

“Calvin, what was I about to do before you interrupted us?” he asked, his eyes not leaving your body.

There was no answer, until a dark look came over Dave’s face, breaking eye contact to you only briefly to look at you husband.

“You wanted to… eat my wife’s pussy,” he said quietly and Dave’s eyes lit up as he looked at you.

“That’s right,” he said, before his hands wrapped around your ankles, pulling you down towards the end of bed. He leaned down, his hand pulling at the front zipper of your dress, parting the fabric. His lips following the zipper with every inch of your skin it revealed to him.

“Like unwrapping a gift,” he said, kissing your stomach. He helped you get out of the dress, throwing it aside, before he got down on his knees, pulling each of your legs over his shoulders.

Dark eyes found yours as he leaned closer towards your pussy, taking a deep breath.

“When was the last time someone ate this pussy?” he asked, his fingertips coming to gently trace the pattern of the by now see through lace hiding your cunt from him. You were obscenely wet for the man kneeling between your legs.

“Years,” you sighed.

“Shame,” Dave tsked, kissing your inner thigh. You closed your eyes as his lips wandered up your thigh, almost to where you wanted him most when he kissed back down, starting the same pattern on your other thigh.

“Dave,” you moaned.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, raising his eyebrow in a silent challenge as he looked up at you.

“Make me cum,” you said and he grinned.

“With pleasure.”

The moment Dave’s tongue slipped through your folds felt like the world shifted. He did not tease you, his tongue dipping inside of you while his nose moved over your clit had you moaning out wantonly. You fought the urge to throw your head back and close your eyes, keeping your eyes trained on the man who had you on the edge of an orgasm without even really having started.

The moan coming from his mouth as he tasted you for the first time was downright pornographic and a memory you’d replay often in the future.

He moved his tongue between your folds before he went higher, his tongue flicking over your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, your hands hesitantly reaching for him, one of his hands grabbing your wrists, pulling them closer towards him, your fingers disappearing in his soft hair. You scratched your fingernails over his scalp and he sucked your clit between his lips with a groan.

You were sure you were dripping on the sheets, your legs crossed behind his shoulders as you moved your hips against his mouth.

“I’m close….” you whimpered, your lips parted as you panted for air, your eyes closing for a moment before they snapped open when Dave slapped your thigh.

“Look at me when I make you cum,” he grunted.

With your eyes trained on him, your hand in his hair and his mouth on you it wasn’t long before he made you cum, your thighs shaking around his head as he continued to lick you up, giving you by far the best orgasm of your life while you moaned out his name.

He gave your pussy one last kiss, before he got to his feet.

“Ready for my cock?” he asked.

Slowly you sat yourself up, getting on your knees on the bed in front of him, pulling him down towards you, so you could kiss him. Your hands found his belt, unbuckling it.

“How do you want me?” you mumbled against his lips, eager to have him inside of you. You felt his lips twitch into a smile against yours, his hands unclasping your bra behind you, pulling it off your shoulders.

One of your hands finally slipped into his pants, pulling his cock out.

You tried to play off your surprise, but Dave saw your eyes widening. He pecked your lips.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we gonna make it fit,” he winked.

You risked a glance down to his hard cock. He was not much bigger than your husbands, but much thicker. Precum pooled on the angry red tip, and you bent down before you could stop yourself, your tongue licking it off, moaning as you tasted him.

“Fuck,” Dave moaned and you looked up at him, seeing his eyes fixed on you.

You had his whole attention and you were loving it.

“Some other time sweetheart,” he said warmly, one of his hands cupping your cheek.

“Now I want you on your back so I can watch those perfect tits shake when I fuck my pussy,” he said. You shivered before you slipped back towards the center of the bed. Dave took his pants, boxers and socks off before he joined you on the bed. You parted your legs for him as he came to kneel between them, his hand lazily pumping his cock.

You had discussed protection in the week leading up to today, coming to know that Dave had a vasectomy years ago. With him getting tested regularly and you not having had sex with anyone in a long time you had given him the freedom to decide if he wanted to use condoms or not.

A big part of you was happy he didn’t because you wanted to feel him. All of him.

He nudged his tip against your folds, moving it over your clit repeatedly. He reached for a pillow, your husband's pillow, propping it under your hips.

“You’re dripping for me sweetheart,” he grinned. You sighed, your hands coming to play with your nipples.

Slowly his tip slipped inside of you and you stopped breathing for a second, enjoying the delicious stretch of his length parting your folds.

“Shit Baby…” you moaned, sucking your bottom lip in.

Ever so slowly, giving you time to adjust his cock filled you.

“You’re so fucking wet. Perfect just… fuck just perfect,” he praised you, groaning when his hips met yours, his cock completely inside of you.

You felt so fucking full.

“Move,” you whined.

“You’re such a whore,” you heard another voice, your eyes blinking as you registered your husband's voice, having completely forgotten about him.

You found Dave’s eyes on you before you turned your head to find Calvin obediently sitting in the chair Dave had pulled for him.

You took a deep breath before you turned your head to look at Dave again.

“At least I’m your whore then,” you said to Dave and he grinned before he bottomed out and thrusted back into you. You cried out.

He snapped his hips against yours, his hands grabbing your hips as he pumped into you. You threw your arms back, grabbing the headboard.

Sex had never felt like this. Yes, you did not have much to compare it to, but fuck that was what you missed? He ruined you, slowly, with every thrust inside of you, with every brush of his fingers on your body. He watched mesmerized as your tits shook with every thrust, before his arms pulled you up against him, into his lap, your chest against his. You crossed your arms behind him, your hands on his neck as he fucked up into you. His hands helping you move on top of him.

“Whose pussy is this from now on?” he asked, his voice dark.

“Yours Dave, fucking yours,” you moaned.

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, slapping your ass. Your pussy clenched around him and you watched him cock his eyebrow.

“You like that huh?” he smirked, doing it again and you moaned.

“Maybe you are my little whore after all,” he hummed against your ear, thrusting into you. He continued to slap your ass until you exploded around him, crying out as he fucked your through your orgasm.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside of you, warmth filling you as he moaned against your lips.

Both panting against each other's lips you smiled, letting your hand fall against his, before he leaned down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, making you clench around his cock.

“That… That never happened before…” you said and he frowned, looking up at you.

“I never came when he fucked me,” you clarified and Dave’s jaw twitched before he kissed your lips.

“I should kill that fucker for how he treated you,” he mumbled against your lips and for reasons you had to unpack at another time, the thought made you clench around him.

“Interesting,” he mumbled, giving you a wink.

“You came inside of her? What the fuck?” you rolled your eyes back as you heard Calvin exclaim.

“And he made me cum. Twice. Guess it was not my fault you couldn’t after all,” you said without looking at him.

Dave chuckled, before he helped you off, his cum dripping into the sheets. He slipped his fingers between your legs, pushing his cum back into you, before he brought his fingers up, holding them out for you. You sucked them clean for him, moaning at your combined taste.

But as much as you wanted just to lay back and enjoy the afterglow, you did not want to spend any more time than necessary in this house.

Dave helped you out of bed, helping you into your dress before he got back into his clothes, pocketing your ruined panties and bra.

He gave you a small smile, taking your hand.

You walked towards the bedroom door when you stopped and turned around.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Calvin screamed behind you and Dave turned around faster than you could notice, his hand stopping Calvin’s wrist before he could reach you. He yelped in pain and Dave let go, stepping between you and your soon to be ex husband.

You took a deep breath, putting a hand on Dave’s shoulder who looked at you over his shoulder. You gave him a small nod, before you stepped to the side, still close enough, so he could intervene. Calvin was still looking at Dave with what you think was terror in his eyes.

“Did you think I would stay by your side while you fucked your way through the country forever? Humiliate me like that? I loved you. I wanted to spend my life with you, but you threw that away. And he helped me to see that. It’s embarrassing how long it took me. So we’re getting divorced, Calvin. You can keep the house and I keep my dignity. And my money,” you said.

Calvin looked at you now, his eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice small.

You took a deep breath, looking at the man you once loved so much. Feeling nothing.

“Not anymore,” you said, giving him a small sad smile before you took Dave’s hand.

Dave gave Calvin one last look before he grabbed your purse and led you out of the house.

#my fic #Dave york #dave york x female reader #Pedro pascal #fanficion #fanfic #fan fiction #dave york fanfiction #Dave york x fem. reader

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minniepetals · 10 months

Text

cry me a river | the reckless

— summary: in the face of danger, you run right into it

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 4.7k

— warnings: slight violence

— PART 24 / previous post / masterpost

It’s about one in the morning when you sneak out of the room with gentle steps, making sure to not wake the one who sleeps on the armchair beside the bed, his soft little snores still heard until his presence disappears with the closed door.

The hallways are as silent as it was back in the room, the only thing heard is the sounds of your footsteps echoing through, and as you close your shawl closer to your body, you look around to make your way to the familiar steps that lead outside where the greenhouse stands.

The doors are left unlocked so you let yourself in and step through the glass doors, closing your eyes for a moment to breathe in the scent of the greens all around you.

It’s during lonely moments like this you feel your heart craving for some sort of familiarity. Not just the presence of your Reapers but for the presence of your manor itself.

For years you spent hating that place more than anything because that was where everything happened; where you were born, where you grew up, watching your mother hating you with every fiber left in her, chasing after your father’s attention, shedding tears on top of gentle shoulders, trapped behind the steel door of a white room, training, meeting good people, meeting bad people, everything.

Everything.

You can’t recall when the feeling of dread and disdain turned to eyes seeking for it, feet yearning to step back into it. Maybe it was the moment your father died, when the dynasty he worked so hard to build broke down into pieces like a house of cards, when you took over and made it into the home that it is now starting to feel like.

You returned to it after Leehyun, locking yourself in the comfort of your room, knowing that if you were to step outside, your Reapers would be right there with the smallest calling of their names. It served as your escape when it used to be the very reason you hated your existence.

The manor has become home and perhaps the only reason it’s able to be such a thing is because of what you’ve built it to be.

You want to escape, to return to it and simply hide in it and have no one bother you until you’re ready to step out yourself.

On the bench where Alexander sat this morning, you take your seat and close your eyes, trying to manipulate your mind into thinking you aren’t in Norway, that you’re back in Seoul, back at the manor, and not somewhere far, far away.

It’s exhausting doing this, your revenge plan. It’s exhausting having to put up a front, exhausting having to freeze up and recall unwanted memories that you wish could bury forever in the back of your mind.

But buried memories can’t always stay buried. They return, eventually, in time, whether you’re prepared or not.

You can’t tell how much time has passed but when you feel something against your feet accompanied by small little pants, you open your eyes to find the little puppy that accepted you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

You look down at him and he returns your gaze with a tilt in his head, tail wagging, and swirls about in a circle once before using his nose to poke at your leg again. He reminds you of the children at The Academy, how they’ve never been scared of you despite wanting to always push them away with your cold demeanor. It’s like Kiwi sees right through you, just like them, and in your silence, you pick up the small little thing to bring him onto your lap.

His tail wags a little more and when you run your hand through his fur, he gets a little more excited and affectionate.

Besides the children, there’s someone else you see in him.

“You remind me of someone,” you say as he nuzzles into the feeling of your palm. “Though unlike you, he wasn’t too fond of me in the beginning. It took some time for him to warm up but once he got to that point, he wouldn’t stop following me around.”

You fall silent again, thinking, remembering, reminiscing, and your fingers stop playing around with the little puppy on your lap.

The memories aren’t as hazy as they used to be, they’re a little clearer, a little closer to home. You can feel it in your heart when something feels like it’s just stabbed it, and in your stomach when you feel a little drop.

“I’m sorry for being selfish,” a voice whispers into your ear. “I’m sorry for only ever thinking about myself.”

But the thing about that is, you cannot be sorry for something that is within your nature, you cannot be sorry for wanting to put yourself first in a cruel, cruel world. When everything feels wrong, when the world feels like it’s always against you, when you do not know who to put your trust in.

If you were a little more mature and a little more brave, would you have been able to tell him the things you want to say now?

Things like; it wasn’t your fault. Things like; it’s alright, and you’re okay, and rest well.

Rest well, rest well, rest well.

You lean your head forward to the sky, gaze closed, as if hoping the things you spoke within your heart could be heard from him wherever he stays.

And as the silence continues, you feel your consciousness eventually slip away as your shoulders loosen their tensions with the feel of the little puppy resting well in your lap.

You didn’t realize it, that you had fallen asleep, but you know yourself waking when you feel a presence closing in and immediately opening your eyes to meet the old man who has a blanket hovered before you, his eyes falling a little surprised because he hadn’t expected you to wake up so easily.

“It’s good to put your guard down a little, you know,” Alexander says with a small chuckle as you accept the blanket to drape it behind you.

“I’ve learned my lesson with that,” you answer him and scoot over to the edge of the bench in order to make room for him.

He takes his seat beside you though leaves enough space in between and you’re thankful this man is observant. Kiwi’s awake but remains quiet and still, head resting against his paws with his tail swaying side to side.

“Do you have anyone you can trust in this world?” Alexander crosses a leg over the other and you look at your watch to see that it’s about four in the morning.

You managed to sleep in an unfamiliar place while knowing there weren’t any Reapers that could come to you at any second. How odd.

“There are always chances someone can stab you in the back.” Maybe the presence of Kiwi helped you. “It’s never a good idea to put your full trust in anyone.”

“You say that but one day you might come to know it feels rather nice putting unconditional faith in someone.”

You shake your head, brows furrowing. “Even if that someone has a good heart and good intentions, it doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”

There’s only been one person you know you can truly trust but he’s gone from this world, only ever being able to see him again when he wishes to visit you in your dreams. He’s the only person you’d ever allow to hurt you over and over again, even if it isn’t the real version of him.

Mister Butler can hate you and betray you but you’d let him do it again and again and maybe that’s because in your heart, you know those versions that the nightmares give you are simply from your own imagination and that he’d never truly come to hate you. He’s incapable of betraying your trust. Someone like him, who stayed by your side when he didn’t have to, isn’t a man who can have his heart easily swayed into hating you.

“Are you tired of betrayal?”

“I’m tired of everything,” you admit and he looks at you up and down, eyes narrowing slightly.

“And yet here you are, out in Norway.” Alexander knows a thing or two, he isn’t dumb, and you aren’t someone to think otherwise. He wouldn’t be in the position he is now if he was, and you don’t deny what he implies in his words. “You run straight into the very things that make you tired.”

“Because it is the only way I can feel alive.” You look on straight ahead before you, watching the pretty sky that pokes out from behind the plants of the greenhouse. “Otherwise I’d be in my room, rotting away. There is no purpose in running away, there is no purpose in leaving things be. My father did not leave this world for me to simply carry on as if he never existed.”

Some may take that as you carrying on your father’s legacy and whatever Alexander is thinking, you don’t care too much for it because all it matters is what you know. You didn’t kill your father just to stay silent for the rest of your life. His death was the beginning of everything.

Your turning point.

“And no one can stop a mind that’s already been made up.” Alexander nods, understanding, and doesn’t push for answers, but perhaps in the back of his mind, he’s a little curious about you and your goals and aspirations in this life. What drives you, what made you into the sort of person you are today, but Alexander is wise unlike many old men you’ve met throughout your life, so he doesn’t question things beyond your boundary.

And so he diverts the subject once again, turning it to the puppy in your lap.

“Perhaps you should adopt a pet of your own, to help you ease your mind a little,” he tells you with a fond gaze at Kiwi. “Humans can be quite disappointing, but a loyal pet will stay loyal for the rest of its life. Not to mention they’re the greatest comfort when someone needs it.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you should turn to a dog rather than humans in your time of need. Humans are disappointing creatures after all. But, “It’s too much of a hassle,” you say. “I can’t even take care of my own self properly, it’d be unwise of me to try and take care of another being.”

“...Is that so?”

It becomes a daily occurrence; the talks in the greenhouse, and soon you come to realize that Alexander isn’t one to let just anyone into his greenhouse. The doors that are usually locked during hours when one should be asleep are kept open, and perhaps that’s because he’s come to realize that you don’t sleep a lot, at least not in the house of a stranger, so he leaves them open for you to visit when you need your space.

And in the morning, around four or five AM when he awakens, he’ll come along and strike up a conversation and the two of you will speak about the things he brings up. Things like Seoul and of the Reaper gang, sometimes he’ll ask of Master Kitagawa, other times he’ll ask how far your skills go.

You speak to him in vague terms, careful not to tell him everything, but he comes to know that you were an only child, married once in an arranged marriage, but divorced. He doesn’t seem too surprised by that fact probably because everyone knows this happens all the time.

And in him knowing a little more about you, you come to know a little more about him as well.

Like when Kiwi came into his life and the fact that he’s had other pets throughout his lifetimes before but they’ve all died and left him.

You asked him why he continues adopting pets when he knows they don’t live as long as humans do, why he hurts himself over and over again, but he simply smiles and says that sometimes being able to love is better than being lonely. That it doesn’t matter how many times he has to watch them die and that he’d never regret loving them.

Alexander believes in reincarnation, that the souls of his first puppy dies and returns in the form of the other pets he’s had, so he’s never truly lonely, and something about that, believing in such a thing, though it sounds a bit absurd, is a little bit beautiful in its own way.

If you could believe Mister Butler died and returned through someone else, it’d be a nice delusion to live in, and despite the fact that there have been one or two guys that have reminded you of him, the truth is, no one can ever be Mister Butler.

Not Hoseok. Not Mingyu.

Because Mister Butler is like family. He was.

Through your marriage with Namjoon, he was your older brother, but he always felt closer to a father figure to you, and perhaps that’s because your father was never there for you. Mingyu is closer to an older brother. A companion. A friend.

And Hoseok?

The one that got away.

The right person at the wrong time.

And because of that fact, you don’t allow yourself to be near him for too long, hence denying his companionship when Jungkook told you it’d probably be better if Hoseok were standing guard at your side rather than him.

It’s true, Hoseok would be better. You wouldn’t be as cautious towards him as you are of Jungkook, but it’s that exact reason that you cannot let him near.

You cannot let him shake your core, so you endure what you can and let Jungkook stay near you despite the constant reminder of what he did all those years ago.

It’s not entirely his fault but as you’ve said, it doesn’t hurt any less.

In your time getting closer to Alexander, he’s refused the appearance of Karl several times. Asher says if he has to, his grandfather will meet him elsewhere. Just not in the house. The guy has come to guess that you’re here because of Karl, and if he’s guessed it, maybe Alexander has too.

Though the old man never brings it up despite the plenty of chances during your greenhouse talks.

“Any progress?”

Dawn remains in the sky as ever and while Jungkook sleeps, you sit on the windowsill to take a call from the other side of the world. It’s a bit chilly to head out today so you stay indoors this time, making sure to keep your voice low.

“Plenty. It’s been quite peaceful these days, it feels a bit out of place.” Alexander’s kindness wasn’t something you expected the first day you walked into Norway. You expected things to be harder after meeting Asher but surprisingly, things are quite…easy, to say the least. “I have a feeling it won’t last too long.”

“No?” Namjoon sounds a little confused on his end. “Why do you say that? Should we come over earlier than planned?”

“No, don’t do that. Come as scheduled,” you say and look away from the window to the man who’s moved from sleeping on the armchair to the bed. It took some time to convince him initially but eventually Jungkook agreed to take the bed since you don’t really sleep anyway.

“You have something planned, don’t you?” There’s some suspicion in his voice and you want to laugh a little at how things are right now.

Who would have thought you’d be back on speaking terms with the man you thought you’d push away for good? But here he is, back and ready to give you his trust. You don’t know if he’s smart or stupid or both. Maybe there’s a bit of both, but it probably took some time for him to consider it, being as the whole thing was about his brother whom he loves very dearly.

Namjoon’s finally using his head.

Though you aren’t too sure if you like it so much.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I don’t know if I can trust those words so easily. The last time you left the country, you disregarded your life just for that plan of yours.”

“Listen.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

There’s a pause on his end before he speaks again. “You didn’t assure me that you won’t do something reckless,” he notes and you internally click your tongue, “which means that feeling of the peace not lasting for long is you actively causing that to happen.” When you don’t respond, he goes on. “Will you stop being so secretive and let me know what you’re thinking? Maybe then you won’t be in the same position you were with Leehyun, and me and my boys and the Reapers will know how to help you.”

Well.

“You can’t keep hiding, Y/N. Stop being so reckless, you’re too reckless.”

“Watch me.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“No?”

Another sigh and he knows he can’t win. “Just…if you decide it’s better for me to go over sooner rather than later, let me know. I’ll be waiting. Right here, just a phone call away.”

“...Sure.”

You don’t think too much about it. You don’t want to think too much about it.

So when the cloud gives way to the sun and it shines higher in the sky, you finally take up Karl’s request to have tea and catch up, deciding you shouldn’t keep running away from what you’re trying to face.

You have Yeonjun stay by your side this time, rather than Jungkook, in case Karl says something out of line and Jungkook will hear more things than you want him to. You stay in the garden of Alexander’s mansion, keeping a little distance away from the building itself, and with the feel of eyes from a window behind you, the conversation begins.

“I remember him,” Karl points at your escort when he takes his first sip of the tea. “Jun? Joon?” Yeonjun doesn’t make an effort to fix him and simply remains quiet. “Right, never one to talk but always by your side.” His eyes settle back on you, a small glint of mirth in them. “You have quite the loyal companion.”

“Yes..I do.” You ignore his gaze to take a sip of your own tea, keeping your replies short.

“I’m still a bit hurt you didn’t reach out to me about your father’s death. We were good friends, you knew that.”

Of course you did. “I apologize, it slipped my mind.”

“Slipped your mind?” He raises a brow, unconvinced. “Hmm…and here I thought, I left a good impression in those four months I stayed in Seoul.”

You did.

You did indeed leave an impression that will last a lifetime.

“Maybe I should have tried harder?”

That mirth in his eyes. Again.

You want to punch him.

“How did he die though? The man I knew isn’t someone who would have easily died and he would have updated me about his health had he fallen ill.”

“He was betrayed,” you say, not batting an eye, and Karl puts his cup down after hearing that.

His eyes are blown out. “Your father? Betrayed? And he didn’t see that coming?”

“They were smart.”

“Even still..” He can’t believe it, though you don’t blame him too much. The father you both know is not someone who’s easily trusting of others, therefore he’s always right there to pick out someone who will betray him before they can execute their plan.

That’s why it took so long to manipulate him into believing you were a daughter full on worshiping his ground without an ounce of betrayal in your veins. That’s why your masterful plan took so long. You had to convince your father into believing he had won in manipulating you to his side when all along, you had been waiting to stab him in the back. Facing a man like him, smart, calculating, a manipulating gaslighter who thinks the world centers around him requires more than just simple brains and planning.

It took years to execute your plans and even then you feel like you could have done better with everything. For one, not letting anyone see what had happened, aka Bangtan. But what’s done is done. Dwelling on past mistakes is just stupid and a waste of time.

“And what about you?” When Karl points the finger at you, his gaze narrows, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re his daughter, his perfect little doll. You didn’t see that someone was plotting your father’s death? Is it not your job to protect him?”

“That’s right,” you give him nothing to fight against, just simply accepting the accusations placed upon you. “I failed in protecting him. I am an incompetent daughter who should have done better.”

Karl stands up, running a hand through his hair. “Your father did all that he could for you and still, you–”

When he looks at you again and meets the gaze you send him, his word stops mid-sentence. Your stare isn’t threatening, it isn’t a glare, nor one that is meant to scare him off, yet something in them lies a hidden threat either way, were he to continue speaking. Karl, seeing that, lets out a chuckle and he closes in on you, patting you on the shoulder before simply leaving his hand there.

You look at it for a second before giving him the attention he wants as he leans in, nose inches away from you.

“Your father created you into the weapon that you are today, my dear little Y/N, and you’ve even been trained under Kitagawa, so why is it that you failed to protect him? Huh? Tell me.”

From the corner of your eye, Yeonjun moves slightly closer, though he keeps his distance and doesn’t dare to make a move unless you instruct him otherwise.

The breath against your face, the touch of skin burning through the thin cloth of your dress, the sides of your knees meeting one another, back straightening up, heels rising from the ground, fingers intertwined into each other, sitting on your lap.

You keep your eyes open, meeting his gaze, but internally you’re counting in your head and holding your breath, hearing the beat of your heart that might as well rip through your rib cages and past the barrier of your skin to physically beat widely before Karl himself.

Maybe he hears it, maybe he can feel it, but whether he does or not, he has no will to move away from you and you know Karl, he isn’t dumb. He knows exactly the effect he has on you right now. He saw it, knows just how you felt all those weeks ago when you were in the living room and he touched you.

He knows and doesn’t care one bit.

Just as he was all those years ago.

They never change.

“What is it that you want from me, Karl?” He doesn’t fix you into calling him uncle this time. “Do you want me to repent on my knees and beg for forgiveness? My father’s already six feet underground, it’s not as if he’ll hear me now, but as his close friend, if you wish for me to do just that, I will. Just for you.”

There’s malice in his eyes, a scoff that leaves him when he watches you, and finally, he moves back. Just a little. “You’ve gotten quite bold, haven’t you? Now that your father isn’t here to teach you a lesson.”

“And if I have? What will you do about it?” You push back, leaning forward, challenging him despite your body screaming at you to run away. “Go ahead and do whatever you’d like with me, there’s no one here right now that can stop you. I can tell Yeonjun to pluck his eyes out right now and he’ll do just that. He won’t say a word and he won’t move unless I tell him otherwise.”

At the mention of the boy, Karl looks over between you and him, and then something in him lights up slightly as if he’d just remembered something. As if he’d just realized something.

“That’s right...what loyal companions…” He steps back, releasing your shoulder, and tilts his head back as he laughs obnoxiously. “Is this all about that little boy I messed with? Him?” The laugh rings a little louder, a little more crazed. “You pretend you’re so cold and have no feelings and yet here you are, chasing after me all the way from Seoul, just for a boy, the second you got the chance. If your father were still here, he wouldn’t have let that happen, but now that he’s gone…-”

He pauses again, and after hurling over laughing, stands back up straight again as the laugh dies all too abruptly. So you stand up from your seat, the corner of your lip curling over as you notice just why he’s gone silent.

By now the tea is slowly getting cold but you don’t care much for it as you stand tall, hands held together before you in a formal manner.

“The person who betrayed him…” His eyes narrow. “Who was it?”

“Oh uncle,” you mock that title, mirth in your eyes, “I think you know exactly where that answer lies.”

Danger.

Something screams danger when his gaze darkens in realization.

And yet you seem to only be attracted to danger as it is the only thing you’ve ever gotten used to seeing every day. The danger of being born as a mafia heir, married to a mafia powerhouse, spiraled into a hellhole you cannot ever seem to escape so you run towards it.

Directly into the fire.

Into the danger.

Provoking your enemies, knowing exactly just what their reactions will be, because danger seems to be the one thing in your life that will never leave and abandon you out of nowhere. The only thing you can forever trust to catch you were you to fall blindly into it.

And blindly you fall, trusting it to come.

And comes it goes, directly your way.

Never disappointing.

Namjoon called you reckless and for the first time in forever, you might have to agree with him. Because being reckless means not caring for the consequences to come after committing a rash action. The reckless ones do not care what happens to them, they live off adrenaline, they run towards the fire when everyone else runs away.

Towards the danger despite knowing there will always be a chance they may not survive. Unheeding, stubborn, thoughtless, careless, negligent, imprudent. Unwise, unwary, incautious, hasty.

A fool.

But misguided and left on their own. Lonely, abandoned, hurt, isolated, rejected, forsaken. An outcast and unloved, a disappointment and broken.

Broken.

A broken little soul whose heart lies empty with a hole pierced through the middle.

You are reckless. You are broken.

And broken things do not know how to save themselves, they only know the warmth of the fire. That is the only thing they can rely on.

So you stay within his vicinity, within Karl’s reach, watching, simply standing there, keeping still, as if keeping vigil. Like you’re just waiting, just expecting for something, anything, the inevitable, to happen. And when it comes in the form of a harsh, harsh slap across the face that has your body turning over to the side and having to hold onto the table to keep your balance, you can’t even say that you are surprised.

It feels like being in the presence of your father all over again, in the face of danger, of a manipulator, of a gaslighter, of an abuser.

He returns hard and so vividly in the form of anger, in the form of a ghost, a spirit whom you see standing right behind Karl. He stands as still as ever, hands held behind his back, simply watching.

Watching.

While you stand before him in front of a man he’s using to command orders over him. Using violence through others because father never raises his hands, father never puts in the effort or strength or power into physical forms. He does it through others, he commands through others, he hurts through others.

Watching until he’s satisfied.

But he’s never satisfied. He’s never satisfied.

And on your end, you can do nothing but accept it all willingly.

There is nothing else you can do, there is nothing else that can be done. It is like being in his presence all over again. Yeonjun, the Reapers behind you, standing still, told to not do a thing, to not move an inch, and your father behind the violence, keeping silent with a deadly gaze.

You return to the past.

You see him.

He’s right there.

And Karl raises his hand again.

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dragon-teaparty · 11 months

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“ I Love You Too ” - Leon Kennedy x Reader

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

ok so first off, i'm so fucking MAD bc tumblr didn't save my draft when it suddenly closed the app to update so i have to rewrite this ENTIRE THING

i'm actually so mad about it, i swear i was about to just not write this. i'm gonna rip my hair out i swear

anyway, i'm back with another story :3 this time it's more wholesome and fluffy

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

summary: you and leon become even closer than before (gn reader btw)

It was nearly sunset. You and Leon were in his backyard, just enjoying the weather. You had begun to play fight, something that was common amongst you both.

Usually, it would be typical banter but you'd always say something that would set Leon off, and now was one of those moments.

You said something about his driving and teased him about every time he crashed a vehicle. Of course you had to make some snarky comment about his license.

Before you could bolt off, Leon grabbed you by the waist, causing you to yelp and giggle.

He swept you off your feet and held you in his arms bridal style. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Hey, c'mon!" You laughed, wiggling in his grasp. "You're like 80 tons of muscle, it's no fair!"

Leon chuckled. "Can't take what you dish out, huh?"

You and Leon were very close. Your connection was obvious to those who even glanced at you. You weren't dating, no, but a lot of people sure thought you were.

It was clear how much Leon genuinely cared for you. You had been his light in the darkness of the horrors he's seen in Raccoon City and the mission to Spain to save the president's daughter. It was difficult for him to let people in and the trauma only made it worse.

Of course, Ada had to do something with this as well. Her betrayal all those years ago still weighed heavy on Leon's heart. He was still confused, hurt, and angry all the same. Although he was glad to see Ada alive, he couldn't help but have a taste of bitterness for her. A bitterness that just wouldn't wash off of his tongue no matter how much the mercenary tried to make things better.

You were different. So much different than any other person he'd ever known.

Everything about you was perfect in Leon's eyes. Your laugh, your smile, your sense of humor, the way you'd look away and squeal when you were excited about something. It made him smile.

You had successfully torn down the walls Leon had built and he was more than happy about that. Of course, the initial part of getting to know you was rather irritating for him, he didn't want to talk about his feelings or let anyone see this side of him. You had been a ray of sunshine on his cold heart.

"Put me down!" You squeaked, squirming around.

Leon let out an exasperated huff. "Okay, okay!" He chuckled and then gently placed you back down on your feet. He immediately pulled you into a hug to which you happily accepted.

Your love for Leon was just as strong as his love was for you. You always had more romantic feelings for him but you never admitted it in fear of ruining the special bond you two had.

"I missed you while I was away," Leon spoke up, still holding you against his chest.

You smiled at this. "i missed you too." You said, your voice becoming quiet. "I always miss you."

Leon felt a pang in his heart when you said that. His job was dangerous and there was always the risk of losing his life. He knew how much you worried and he hated it.

He never really thought much about how dangerous being an agent is since he was so used to it at this point. Seeing you worry made him feel guilty.

"I know," he replied softly. "But you know I'll always come back to you, right?"

You nodded, burying your face into his chest.

As much as Leon reassured you that he'd always come home safe, you couldn't help but have the thought in the back of your mind.

When he was away, your nights were often sleepless and you found it difficult to get things done from how worried you got sometimes.

The thought of losing Leon was crushing and you couldn't stand it.

"Hey," Leon spoke, pulling away a little to look at you. "I promise." His expression was soft and his tone sweet and reassuring.

You couldn't hold it back. As you looked up at him and heard his words, tears swelled in your eyes and they began spilling. Leon pulled you back into his arms and you hugged him back once more. He shushed you quietly, running his fingers through your hair and murmuring soft reassurances.

The two of you had stood there in each other's arms for quite a while. By the time you two parted, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. The moonlight shines through the branches and leaves of the tree you were under, illuminating you both.

Leon couldn't help but admire you. You looked so beautiful underneath the soft glow of the night sky. Your eyes always appeared to sparkle in the light but they looked especially like stars here. He found himself not being able to tear his eyes away from you.

You looked back up at him and into his pretty blue eyes.

He reached over and gently cupped your cheek with one hand. "I'm never leaving you, y'know." He whispered, once again reassuring you with a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

You smiled back, your heart fluttering as you leaned into his touch, placing your hand on his own.

"Oh, I know," you said, your tone turning more playful. "You really don't know when to quit, Kennedy."

Leon laughed, a genuine laugh that you and you alone had ever heard. He looked back at you, a comfortable silence suddenly falling upon you both.

You felt yourself get lost in Leon's eyes. The baby blue was so mesmerizing to you.

The way you looked at him didn't help either, it made his heart jump out of his chest.

The way you looked at one another was undeniable. The fondness and love in your eyes, like you were a golden treasure in the middle of the rubble in both of your minds.

As Leon looked at you, he had an overwhelming urge to just admit his feelings. He loved you so much and he wanted to shout it out loud, pour out his heart to you.

Instead, he simply leaned in, his lips softly pressing against your own.

Your eyes widened, not expecting the sudden gesture at all but you melted into the kiss, your eyes closing shut.

It felt like fireworks had gone off in your brain, butterflies swarmed your tummy, tickling your insides. You almost couldn't believe this was happening.

Leon held the kiss for a little while longer before he pulled away, looking into your eyes. His expression was so soft and loving.

"I love you," you finally spoke, blurting out the words as you were unable to hold them back anymore. You surprised yourself, a blush quickly creeping across your cheeks.

Leon smiled. For the first time in years, he actually felt complete, he felt so loved and safe. This feeling was almost enough to drive him to tears. Never in his life had he ever felt this way about another person before.

He pulled you close again and planted another kiss on your lips before he pulled away again, looking down at you with a grin that he just couldn't get rid of.

"I love you too."

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

phew! this one is definitely not as good as the one i originally had and that upsets me a lot :'c

i hope you all liked it anyways! love u guys <3

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multific · 9 months

Text

Sweeter Than Honey

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: It was love at first sight for him. You needed him to walk past you one more time.

A/N: This is an AU where he wasn't married to Haley and doesn't have a son. Enjoy~

Beneath the hard exterior, behind all the walls that he built up, Aaron was a very gentle and kind soul.

His walls came with his job.

His walls helped him to stay sane, or at least as sane as he can possibly stay.

You just recently started working for the BAU, being the right hand of Garcia, you soon found your place within the team.

"Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Y/L/N, the latest addition to your team." he still remembers when you were first introduced to him, you were so kind, smiling, eyes filled with excitement and nervousness.

You were ready to prove yourself and he could see that. Back then, he didn't realize it, but now, after you working for the team for the last year, Aaron can face his feelings.

He can see now just how much he loved you.

Now he understood everything Morgan was talking about. His attraction to you, the way he always protected you, the way he always looked for you first whenever there was danger.

He didn't want to admit it, but what other choice does he have?

It was bad. Bad for him to fall for you, bad for him to feel this way towards you.

He wanted to forget but he couldn't.

You had him wrapped around your finger since day one.

The worst part is that he didn't want to hide it anymore, he wanted to try. He wanted to have you even if it was wrong. But how will he do it? How will he go about this without pressuring you into this? How will he do this without pushing you into a corner?

And so, he found himself doing bad things.

During the next case, he made sure they 'forgot' to book a room for you.

"You could stay with me." he offered.

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother..."

"You aren't." he said before he started to walk towards his-your shared room.

His plan worked.

He heard about the 'one-bed' scenario. And he hoped for the best. He felt bad about it until you walked out of the bathroom wearing a nice nightgown, as you laid down he noticed the dress ever so slightly rising up revealing more of your delicious thigh.

Aaron bit his lip as he found himself unable to sleep. He kept tossing and turning.

"I can't sleep either." he suddenly heard you talk which made him pause. "This case is... difficult."

Of course, you are talking about that while his mind was running wild.

So wild, he was sure his boner was visible even in the dark.

You turned around and looked at him, letting out a sigh and a yawn.

"We will catch him." you tried to reassure him.

"I know." he said as he turned his head to look at you, now laying on his back. You offered him a smile.

He noticed how your eyes became hazy, sleep trying to take over but it seemed like you were fighting it.

But soon, you succumbed and fell asleep.

Aaron watched you sleep for hours before he too got some rest.

The next day went on like normal, the team collected some information that they could use for the profile, but all Hotch was able to think about was you. He wanted to go back to that hotel room, have a shower with you, eat something and then make sweet sweet love on that bed.

It was all he could think about.

Just how sweet it was to spend time with you, sleeping in the same bed. It felt so domestic, so sweet.

He wanted that feeling every day for the rest of his life.

But was it too much to ask for? Perhaps it really was.

That evening you were even more tired, he could tell, he could see it in your eyes.

You were tired, very tired.

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out.

Aaron once again found himself watching but this time, you moved closer. Out of instinct, he put his arm under your head and you placed it instead on his chest. He felt air leaving his body but never coming back, he was too afraid to breathe.

He must be dreaming. Yes, that would be the only logical thing.

The next morning when he woke up you were still sleeping on his chest.

He debated if he should move or not.

But it was like his phone decided for him. As it went off, he quickly got out of bed, he heard you letting out a sigh before he picked up the phone.

"They got his address, Y/N, we have to go." he said and you were quick to jump into action even if you were still a bit delirious from sleep.

Aaron was actually sad that the case ended so early. He still wanted to enjoy having you close, he wanted you to cuddle up to him again.

But it was all in vain.

You were already on the jet, heading home.

A/N: If anyone is interested in Part 2 let me know!

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moonlightpetalz6 · 7 months

Text

Mark Me

Character: Toji Fushiguro x Tattoo Artist Reader

Reader: Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, drug use, high sex, smut, violence, unprotected sex, blood, harsh language, pet names, Praise kink, Dacryphilia, Exhibitionism kink, Daddy kink, degradation, marking kink, Age gap (Reader is in 20s, Toji is 30), brat kink

Wc: 7,293

A/N: All I have to say is I worked hard on this, and I hope you enjoy it! Please be nice I rewrote this like 5 times lmao.

______________________________________________________________

Ding!

The sound of the front door opening, indicating that a customer walked in, filled your ears, along with the quiet buzzing of the tattoo gun in your hand. "Oh! Welcome, do you have an appointment?" You hear your person at the front desk cheer, followed by muffled voices. Your eyes, which were once solely focused on the piece of art you had been skillfully engraving into the tender flesh of your current client, drift over to the small watch that rests on your wrist. "How's it looking baby?" Your client questions his eyes, looking back at you with a slight smirk, causing you to groan in disgust. This particular client of yours had been flirting with you since the day he walked into the shop, which at first didn't bother you as you were used to those occasional clients; however, this one was super persistent about it, always giving you a hard time with his tattoo design making you change things that he was once okay with into something else the next visit so that he could keep seeing you.

"It looks fine, however, we're gonna have to cut this session short as it's almost closing time and I have one more client for the night." The man lets out a small grunt, not finding a problem with your words as it just meant he could see you again, much to your dismay. "You got it boss!" He laughed while tossing his shirt back on, following behind your smaller form as you walked towards the front of the store. "Ya know I always found all those piercings and tattoos of yours to be." The man started his usual flirting with you, always leading with the art that covered your body. This time, you tuned him out, your eyes traveling to the two figures seated in the waiting room area, one of them being very familiar. "Ichigo set this guy up with his next session for me will ya?" You mumbled while snatching the last clipboard from the desk, your eyes scanning your next client's information. "Of course, boss right away!" Ichigo cheered brightly while quickly booking the man's next appointment. You didn't get many clients at your shop, at least not many rich ones, as you had built your place in a dangerous area where lots of criminals claimed to call their homes.

It didn't bother you, of course, as you were already seen as a problem by many people due to your appearance, so you thought, why not make a profit when people will happily give you their money for the dumbest shit sometimes. "By the way, I see Mr. Playboy is back," Ichigo whispered into your ear, a playful smirk tugging on her lips as she went and pointed to what kind of tattoo the client wanted. You hummed, feeling your eye twitch as you read that same name. You found yourself tattooing on what seems to be hundreds of different women every few weeks. Toji. "This has to be his, what? Sixth girl this month?" Ichigo Scoffed before bidding your client goodbye as he shot you a slight wink, causing you to throw up in your mouth. "It's his seventh, actually." You sighed before pushing yourself off the counter as you called the two figures over.

In front of you stood the familiar face of one Toji Fushiguro. Next to him was a girl not much older than you who desperately clung to the man's bicep, pressing her exposed cleavage against his bare muscle. "Okay, so who's getting the tattoo?" You questioned as if the answer wasn't as clear as day in your mind. You watch as the girl lazily raises her hand with a slight giggle as she makes goo-goo eyes up at Toji, who stares at you unimpressed with how long it had taken for you to see them. "That would be me~ I want it as a tramp stamp~" She sang, eying the tall male to see if he would give her the reaction she wanted. Toji grunts a lazy smirk, tugging at his lips as he tilts his head down at you, an all-knowing look in his eyes at what you must be thinking right now. "And this must be the lucky guy, huh?" You heard Ichigo laugh from behind the counter, earning her a slight glare from you.

"Mhm! Isn't he so handsome?" She asked, squeezing him closer. You watch as Toji goes and wraps his arm around her waist, giving it a slight squeeze. "Think you can give her what she wants? Especially since you kept us for a bit?" Toji asked, giving you a smug look, knowing you hated doing these tattoos even more each time he brought in a new girl. "Follow me." You muttered, tossing the clipboard to the side. The two of them follow you towards the back, where you have all your equipment set up. "Let me just clean up really quick. My last client ran late, so it took a bit." The girl nodded in understanding; meanwhile, Toji just scoffed, scratching his head as he leaned on one leg. "You mean that scumbag was your client? Damn, how low have your standards become, Y/n?" He mocked while watching you sanitize your equipment and replace the ink.

"Oh, shut it. He gives me money, so who am I to complain?" You muttered before glancing between Toji and the girl. "You should know what I mean after all." You added, causing the girl to frown, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Toji!" She cried, wanting the man to say something. Toji stayed silent, knowing your words were true as he did many things for many people, the girl next to him being one of his more frequent clients who paid him pretty well to go on dates and have sex. You just shrugged, taking Toji's silence as not wanting to get involved as you went and put your gloves on while carefully getting the stencil out. "Whatever, just lay down for me, cutie." You mumbled, a slight smirk forming on your lips at the girl's shocked expression, along with the tinge of pink that lightly coated her cheeks.

Once she laid where you needed, you carefully took care of the area of skin she wanted the tattoo on as you set the stencil down. Toji hovered behind you, watching the placement, nodding in approval. "Looks good, baby~" He sang lazily, smirking, earning a giggle from the girl. You scoffed as you put your mask over your mouth and nose before turning the gun on. "Yeah, let's see how long it's gonna take." You muttered before getting to work. The sound of your tattoo gun and the girl's whines and cries fill the room as you carefully paint her lower back with the letters of Toji's name. 'Honestly, I'll never understand why so many girls get this.' You carefully wipe away some excess ink while glancing over at Toji, who stood leaning against one of your walls, eyes closed, probably thinking of other things he could be doing right now.

'Especially when they know they're not the only girls in his life.' The girl suddenly jolts, causing you to pull away as you glance at her trembling form. You let out a small sigh, turning the gun off as you go and remove your gloves. The sudden disappearance of the buzzing causes Toji to open his eyes as he looks at you, a brow raised in curiosity. "Ya done already?" His tone sounded impressed with how your speed with these things has increased. You shake your head as you go and pull your mask down with a finger pointing to the girl who is lying on the table, still shaking. "I'm going to give her a break for about fifteen minutes, maybe twenty if she still needs time." You sighed before standing up to exit the room.

"Ichigo, I'll be outside for a bit." You muttered to the girl, who responded with a pitched kay as you opened the front door to step outside. The nighttime breeze smacks you in the face, causing a relaxed moan to slip past your lips as you lean against your shop wall, reaching into your pocket to pull out a joint. You never smoked during your shifts or when you had clients; however, you had gotten so good at tattooing Toji's name on these girls that it didn't even matter if you were sober. You place the joint in your mouth before patting your pockets for your lighter. The bell to your shop rings, causing you to glance to see Toji standing in the doorway, lips curled up in a cocky smirk.

"Oh? Is smoking while on the job allowed?" He teases, watching as you roll your eyes before returning to looking for your lighter. "Tch, I would be heading home right now smoking it anyways if it wasn't for you always bringing your girls to my damn shop last minute almost every fucking night." You growled, getting frustrated that you couldn't find the small device. Toji just scoffed, standing next to you as he leaned against the wall, pulling his lighter out and aiming it towards you. You hummed, nodding as you pressed the joint's tip to the flame, watching it light. "Thanks." You muttered, leaning against the wall. This wasn't the first time you and Toji had been in this position, as this happened with almost all the girls he brought over, one of them needing some break from the pain. Toji was the first to start conversing with you about who did your tattoos. He was impressed When you told him it was you or some friends of yours. Since then, the two of you found yourselves outside your shop, often talking about life and random things whenever you waited for the girls to feel better.

You let out a puff of smoke, watching it disappear into the night sky. "How's she doing?" You asked, glancing at your watch to see how much time she still had for her break. "She'll be fine. Just give her the full twenty minutes." He muttered before going and plucking the joint from your lips, causing you to growl as you glared up at him. He just smirked, giving you a wink before hitting the joint himself. The two of you went back to saying nothing, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you as you passed the joint back and forth. You sneak a glance at Toji, taking in his well-built form, watching as the muscles in his neck slightly tense as he inhaled, how his bicep flexed every time he brought the joint to his lips.

Yes, you found his muscular body attractive, and yes, you found Toji to be your idle type, but that wasn't what caused you to grow an interest in the man. What grabbed your heart were those piercing green eyes that held a mysterious dark hue over them as if hiding his true feelings. You don't know when you started feeling this attraction towards the man, but you knew that you would never give in or act on your lustful desires as you knew nothing would come of it. "Come on, don't take all of it, you jackass." You growled and jumped up to snatch the joint, which Toji had practically smoked all of. Toji chuckles as he leans his arm on your head, causing a vein to pop as your eye twitches in annoyance. "Oh, come on, Y/n baby~ You know I'll pay ya back." He cooed before snatching a strand of your hair between two of his calloused fingers. You ignored him, not minding that he was playing with your hair as you finished the joint before glancing at your watch.

"Come on, lover boy." You tap Toji's chest with the palm of your hand as you walk by him to open your shop door. "Let's finish marking your latest victim." Toji just grinned at your words as he obediently followed behind you with a slight chuckle. "What? You want one too?" He joked, his eyes trailing down the back of your form, resting on your ass unbeknownst to you. You scoff, waving him off as you continue to make your way back to the girl. "As if! Keep dreaming, Toji!" You scoffed.

Oh, he will.

__________

You stood outside your shop, a joint in your hand, as you quietly watched the night sky. It's been weeks since Toji has stopped by with another girl, making you wonder if he's finally found someone or if he's marked every single client he has. "Hey, baby~" A familiar voice calls, causing your eyes to drift over to the sound. To your dismay, it's that client you had finally finished giving the tattoo to who had been nonstop flirting with you. You internally cringe but keep your professional, laidback persona as you provide a superficial nod toward him with a half-assed smile on your lips. "Oh hey, it's you. What's up? Is there something wrong with the tattoo?" You asked, tilting your head at the man curiously. The man shakes his head with a cocky smirk as he leans his arm against the wall. His head rested in his palm as he looked down at you with a predatory gaze.

"Oh, the tattoo is bitching, baby~ thanks again for such a good job on my body~" He cooed his body language, signaling that he was feeling pretty bold and wouldn't be taking any rejection today. You stared at him momentarily before letting out a small sigh as you carefully took the joint from your lips. 'What should I do? I sent Ichigo home cause we didn't have any more clients tonight, so no one is around to help me get out of this one.' You think a vein is popping on your temple. The man notices this and smirks, letting out a small whistle as he reaches his hand towards your face. "I noticed you've looked stressed and annoyed lately, baby~" You go to move away from his touch, which causes him to get annoyed as he suddenly grabs your chin, forcefully lifting your face to his. "Hey, now don't go being a bitch just cause you look like some trash whore always showing off so much skin. Be honest, you don't do it to show off those shit tattoos; you do it because you want men to see how easily fuckable you are." His voice was harsh, his ego probably not liking how you had tried to reject him.

"Why don't you come home with me tonight and show me all those shit tattoos, baby~ I can paint them so pretty with my-!" The man's words abruptly cut off as you watched a fist collide with the side of his head, causing a giant dent in your shop's wall. "Toji!" A girl's voice cried out in horror. You slowly followed where the fist came from, your surprised eyes meeting Toji's enraged ones as he went and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. "Who's tattoos are you calling shit, big guy?" He growled, face inches from the man's now bloody one. "Or better yet…" You watched as Toji's jaw shook from how tight he was clenching, its veins popping out from his neck and face as he bared his teeth at the now-crying man.

"Who the hell do you think you're touching and calling baby you motherfucker?" Your body shivered at how bloodthirsty Toji's tone was not expecting to see such a sight from the usually calm and laid-back man. "H-hey, man! I was trying to get laid! I didn't know the whore was yours!" That did it. Whatever self-control Toji had was instantly gone as he went and smashed the guy's face in blood, splattering all over himself and you in the crossfire. The girl Toji had come with stood there horrified as she trembled, not knowing what to do. You quickly snapped out of shock as you grabbed Toji's arm. "Hey! Toji, that's enough! What's gotten into you?!" You yelled, trying to pull the bigger man away from the unconscious body.

Toji's eyes shot at you, causing you to freeze as you felt your heart skip a beat at the feral look in his eyes as if he was a wild animal being torn away from his prey. When Toji realized it was you, he instantly calmed down, allowing you to feel the muscles in his arm relax as he went and dropped the guy to the ground. "Fuck." He hissed, running a hand through his messy hair as he looked from the guy to you to the girl he came with. "Give me that." He growled, snatching the joint you had forgotten all about. You watched him take a resounding hit off it before walking over to the girl. He appeared to be comforting her as he went and called her a cab. In the meantime, you dragged the unconscious guy into the alley next door, making sure he still had a pulse before heading back. When you got to the shop, you saw only Toji leaning up against the wall, a hand ruffling his hair as he let out a deep sigh, the joint hanging from his lips.

"Toji." You called, getting the man's attention. You smiled as you carefully took the joint back, putting it between your lips. "I believe you still haven't paid me back for the last time I shared one with you." You joked, trying to ease the tense atmosphere. Toji looked down at you for a moment, a frown still on his face, before you saw the scar curl up as his facial features softened. "Is that any way to say thank you brat?" He scoffed. You hummed, scratching the back of your neck as you eyed the blood-stained sidewalk and the dent in your building. "Fix my wall and clean that blood. I'll call it even." Toji let out a gruff laugh, finding your response to the situation amusing. "So did you send her home?" You asked, addressing the fact the girl was no longer around.

"Yeah, I apologized to her and said the next date was free." He sighed, annoyed that he had to waste his time for free on such an annoying girl. "How nice of you." You joked before stomping out the butt of the joint. Your eyes scanned Toji's hand, noticing the mix of his and the man's blood dripping onto the cold cement. With a sigh, you carefully take his hand, causing him to give you a confused look. "Come on, I'll clean you up." The two of you walk into the quiet shop as you go and sit Toji on one of the couches in the waiting room. He leans against the couch, spreading his legs as his arms rest on the back. "Where's your nosey assistant?" He muttered, taking note of the dramatic girl's absence. "I didn't have any more clients tonight, so I sent her home. Of course, I see you were planning on stopping by without even an appointment." You scolded while going through the first aid kit.

"Hey, if it wasn't for me not making an appointment, who knows what that guy could've done to your dumbass." He scoffed before cursing as you went and pressed the rubbing alcohol against his cut knuckles without warning. "That's what you get. As for what happened, I could have handled it." Toji just scoffed, looking away from you with an annoyed look. Neither of you said anything as you silently treated his wounds before feeling yourself starting to get high. "Ah shit it's kicking in already." You muttered as you finished treating his hand. "They're all better. Next time don't waste your time getting hurt on a girl who does tattoos for your clients and you occasionally smoke with." You scold, standing from the couch. Toji was still looking away, causing you to sigh as you went to put the first aid kit back.

You looked in one of the mirrors to see blood on your face. You stare at it for a moment, the look in Toji's eyes filling your mind as you bite your lip, feeling your thighs rub against each other as the effects of the weed and the memory of the fight cause your body to start heating up. 'Fuck I should head home.' You mentally cursed as you walked out of the room.

Toji sat on the couch, his blood still boiling as he remembered walking the familiar route to your small shop. Yeah, it was small and out of his way, but he always found himself at your shop for some reason. Maybe it was because there weren't many people that stopped by when he showed up, or perhaps he was starting to find your assistant Ichigo entertaining as she would sometimes trap him in the waiting room to talk about some random shit he never cared for. Or maybe he came to the shop so much because of-! Toji's thoughts stopped when he and the girl turned the corner, his eyes landing on your familiar form, trapped by an unfamiliar, much bigger one.

"Hey now don't go being a bitch just cause you look like some trash whore always showing off so much skin. Be honest, you don't do it to show off those shit tattoos, you do it because you want men to see how easily fuckable you are."

Toji instantly felt his body seethe with rage as he listened to the guy's words, his gaze finally falling on how the man squeezed your pretty face between his disgusting hand. Before he knew it, his body was moving alone as he angrily stormed towards the two figures. 'Who the fuck does this fucker think he is touching what's mine.' He thinks, remembering all the times he would mess with your hair or brush up against your body, pretending that it had been an accident or that he wasn't paying much attention. Toji loved it when he would poke your cheeks, feeling the squishy skin against his rough finger and how your eye would twitch each time, finding it adorable. As Toji reached the two of you, he heard the man's following words ring through his ears like a siren.

"Why don't you come home with me tonight and show me all those shit tattoos, baby~ I can paint them so pretty with my-!" All Toji could see was red as his fist collided with the man's face. He watched as the man slid to the ground, face bleeding from Toji's fist breaking the skin. Without hesitation, Toji picked the guy up, feeling so enraged that he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. "Who the hell do you think you're touching and calling baby you motherfucker?" The words left his lips, but in his mind, there were so many things he never got to say, especially when the man went and called you a whore. Toji didn't know how many times his fist collided with the guy's face; the only thing he could hear was the loud ringing in his ears as he clenched his teeth, eyes feeling like he was about to break every blood vessel they had.

Toji thinks back to one of the times the two of you sat outside. He had asked you about all your tattoos, questioning who did them. When you answered that it was mostly work you did, he remembers being impressed at how well the artwork came out and how proud you looked when you recalled all the time and effort you put into each one. "It's something I love to do…and I want to keep adding more and more art to my body because it's something I really love!" You cheered with the brightest smile Toji had ever seen across your face, a happy blush tinting your skin as your eyes sparkled with pure joy. Toji remembers feeling his chest flutter at the sight. 'How fucking dare this scumbag say they're shit!' Toji's blood boils as he feels his chest tighten in anger.

'Don't fucking touch her! She's mine…Mine. Mine. Mine!' The thoughts ran wild in Toji's head. A sudden grip on his arm causes Toji to shoot his eyes to the side, ready to kill whoever got in his way. "Hey! Toji, that's enough! What's gotten into you?!" Until it was your face that slowly cleared the red that had drenched his vision. You stood there with your small arms wrapped around his giant one, eyes filled with worry. Toji felt his entire body relax as he took in your expression, noting the tiniest glint of tears that lined your eyes, which he always wanted to see crying under him. 'Who are you making that face for, Y/n? Are you worried about this fucking scumbag? Or that useless bitch crying in the back?' After that, Toji only thought of you, not processing anything else that happened.

'Will you worry for me? Will you cry for me again? I only want you to think of me.'

Toji sat on the couch staring at the ceiling as he felt himself getting high from the joint, his body relaxing, allowing a small moan to leave his lips as he continued to picture your worried, tearful expression, wanting to see it again as he started to imagine you under his body eyes leaking tears as you reached your arms up for him while crying his name like you did earlier to get him off the guy. "Fuck." Toji curses, feeling himself start to get hard as he crosses his legs when he hears your footsteps approaching. "I got some of that guy's blood on my face." You grumbled as you went to the front door, carefully turning the open sign off.

Toji watched as you tried to wipe the scumbag's dried blood off your cheek. As you stood there, blood staining your skin, Toji couldn't help himself as he bit his lip, letting out a low growl before standing up. Unknowingly to you, you continued to try and get the blood off your cheek while staring at your reflection from the door. "Hey, Toji, I'm about to head home. Are you going to be!" Your words stop as you feel rough hands gently grab your hips, pulling them back as your ass feels something poke and slide against it. You stand there stiff as a giant blush slowly makes its way to your cheeks as you slowly look up at the door's reflection. Toji stands there, his eyes narrowed, a slight frown on his face as he goes and lightly grinds against your ass, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. "T-Toji?!" You cried, shocked and embarrassed, as anyone who walked by the shop would be able to see the inappropriate scene unfolding. "Let me see it." Toji mumbled, his voice an octave lower, causing a shiver to run through you as you nervously looked back at him. "C-come again?" You asked, watching as Toji scowled, his brows knitting as he went and grabbed your face, turning your cheek towards him. "Fuck that scumbag's pathetic blood did get on you." He growled, his fingers twitching.

You whined, feeling your upper body press against the cold glass as you placed your palms against it for support. Toji's hand that still held your hip tightened as he released your face, causing you to look away embarrassed as you felt the familiar warmth between your legs quickly forming from the constant grinding. "Y/n look at me." Toji commanded as he licked his thumb, ensuring it was coated in his saliva. You do as told, slightly turning your cheek towards him. You cringe when he presses the wet digit against your heated flesh, making sure to rub all that scumbag blood away. "Y/n, from now on, I want you to keep this in mind." He growled before roughly shooting his hips forward, causing a small gasp to escape your lips as you felt your chest rub up and down against the cold glass.

'Fuck, this is bad...I didn't wear a bra today.' You thought, feeling your nipples poke out from your top, thanks to the mix of friction and the cold. "No scumbag is allowed to touch you, got that?" Toji growled as he pressed his body against yours, his giant size trapping you against the door. You can only whimper, your eyes slowly clouding with lust as you look into the reflection. Your eyes locked with Toji's as he smirked, sliding his hands up your sides and under your shirt, causing you to let out a small cry. Toji stiffens when he notices the lack of a bra before a giant smirk crosses his face as he goes and bites at your ear. "No bra today, naughty girl~?" He purred his rough hands, groping your breasts as he skillfully took your perked buds between his rough fingers, pinching and pulling them as if they were some instrument, loving each noise he pulled from your precious lips.

"Fuck baby, that's it…come on, keep making noises for me." Toji moans as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, feeling his erection getting more prominent as his mind becomes slightly clouded from the weed. "T-Toji, stop…what if someone comes by?" You whined in protest as you tried to push off from the glass door. Your actions cause you to grind into Toji, earning a rough grunt as he sinks his teeth into your neck. "A-ah Tojiiiii~" You whined body shivering as his teeth lightly pierce your sensitive flesh, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you relish in the slight pain. Toji hums at this as he lightly sucks on the spot pulling away with a small pop as he grins his fingers roughly pulling at your nipples, causing your eyes to widen as you arch your back. “Is my Babygirl a fucking masochist? Do you like it when I pull on your nipples~?" Toji coos while leaving sloppy kisses up and down your neck, making sure he leaves as many marks as possible. "Sooooo sensitive, haha~" He mocked, feeling your body tremble in his grip. "I-It's cause of the weed….MMH!" You slap a hand to your mouth as Toji goes and slides his hand down to your crotch, roughly cupping it from your shorts.

"T-Toji, please, someone will see…ah… i-i'll be ruined." You cried between moans. Toji growled, not liking that you thought of others when he was groping your body. "Tch." He clicked his tongue as he pinched your nipples as punishment, causing your knees to buckle. Thankfully, Toji had quick reflexes as he went and wrapped an arm around your midsection, making sure to hold your weak body up, his muscles flexing. "Who the fuck cares? Do you think you can think of others while I'm right here? What if I want them to see you like this, huh?" Suddenly, you feel your shorts get pulled down, exposing your wet panties to anyone who was to walk by. Toji glanced at you in the reflection, watching as tears of embarrassment filled your eyes, causing his chest to fill with pleasure as he loved seeing you so vulnerable.

"What do you think that scumbag will return and see you like this baby? All wet and messy for the guy who beat him unconscious?" Toji's words cause you to moan as you recall the look in his eyes from the fight again, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head. "Yeah? Does thinking about that get you turned on, baby? It's turning me on too. You can feel it. Right." He growls as he grinds into you faster while sliding his hand up your neck to tilt your head back. "Fuck Y/n, you look so fucking hot like this…" You whine, your mouth opening as you look up at him with lustful eyes, drool falling from your chin. Toji growls as his grip on your neck tightens before smashing his lips against yours in a heated, messy kiss. You whine, going and grabbing a fist full of his hair as he shoves his tongue around your wet cavern, wanting to taste every inch of your flavor. He moans into the kiss, pulling away with a few strings of saliva still connecting the two of you as he looks at you with dark eyes.

"Open your mouth." He commands. "I wanna see you stick out that pretty tongue." You feel his fingers dance around your neck as you obediently do as you're told, making sure the wet muscle stretches out as far as possible. "That's a good fucking girl." Toji groans as he spits into your mouth, his dick twitching as he watches the glob slide down your tongue and into your mouth. "Swallow it, princess…let me see you swallow daddy's spit like a good slut." He groaned, watching you close your mouth, his hand feeling your throat expand as you swallow. "Fuck…Come on." He growled, pulling away from you roughly, picking you up as he tossed you over his shoulder. You let out a surprised squeal as you gripped the back of his shirt, causing him to chuckle as he went and smacked your ass.

"God, you're so fucking sexy baby." He purred as he walked back to your station, carefully placing you on the chair. "You know how often I've wanted to fuck your dirty ass in this chair?" He growled, pressing his fingers against your soaked panties, causing you to moan as you tilt your head. "W-why my chair?" You sighed, finding that Toji fantasized about you sexy as you tried to rub your thighs together. Toji scowls at this as he roughly spreads your legs apart, pressing his fingers deeper against your wet panties, causing you to gasp. "Don't close your legs, princess…you better keep them spread for Daddy or else." He warns as he goes and sits himself between your legs. You watch through lidded eyes as he lifts one of your legs, pressing kisses up and down your inner thigh, leaving the occasional bite mark, shivering each time you cringe and squirm in his grasp.

"Now be a good girl for me, Y/n." He whispers as he slides your panties off his breath, stopping as he watches a string of your slick connecting your needy hole and the useless piece of fabric. "Fucking hell, brat." He growled before ripping the material off as he wasted no time in consuming your sweet juices, a deep growl escaping his throat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Toji mentally curses to himself as he swears, you're one of the best things he's ever tasted, wanting to eat you out for hours as he slides his thumb down over your clit, the rough pad aggressively assaulting the bundle of nerves. You let out multiple moans and curses as you arch your back, your hands gripping the armrests of the chair as Toji eats you like a starved animal. "Tojiiiiii~ mmh So fucking good~" You cry out as you weakly grab a fist full of his hair. Toji grunts his tongue, sliding up and down your folds before he plunges the slick-covered muscle into your hole.

"Fuckfuckfuck!" You cry, your legs tensing as you push Toji's face deeper into your dripping pussy; you feel your orgasm rush through you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. Toji growls as he makes sure to lap it all up, his tongue greedily sucking it into his mouth as he gulps your sweet juices down, pulling away from your needy hole, his face dripping with your cum. "Did my baby girl cum just from my tongue~?" He purred, his fingers sliding up and down your slick folds. You watched with hooded eyes as Toji watched some of your juices drip to the ground, some landing on the chair, causing him to grunt. "Come on, baby again…you can cum for daddy again, right?" He growled, leaning over your body as he pressed rough kisses along your neck, one of his fingers sliding into your needy hole.

"Mmmmmm!" You moan loudly, your walls clenching around the rough digit as he presses it against the squishy flesh. "That's right, baby if you can cum for me, Daddy will reward you." He chuckles, watching your pleasured expression. "So, fucking pretty." He mumbled before sucking one of your breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he lightly bites and pulls, causing tears to roll down your cheeks. "T-Toji don't! H-hurts! EEEEEK!" You cried, feeling the man pull harder as he looked up at you with narrowed eyes. "That's not what I want you to call me princess." He growled before leaving a few apologetic licks to the irritated bud. You whine, looking away, too embarrassed to look him in the eye, when you feel another finger being inserted into you, causing your hips to buck up. "Fuuuuuuuck~" You moaned, earning a satisfied hum from Toji, who decided to mercilessly pump his fingers in and out of your puffy pussy, licking his lips as he stared down at you with a cocky grin.

"Come on baby say it! Say my name and I'll make you cum~" Toji went and licked your bottom lip, gently biting the tender flesh as you whined, eyes rolling back again. “D-daddy…ah…I wanna cum please." You cried while shielding your eyes from his gaze. This didn't sit well with Toji as he went and pulled his fingers out, causing you to whimper at the loss as you felt your walls clench around nothing. You let out a loud gasp followed by a pathetic cry as Toji slapped your pussy, eyes narrowed. "Y/n, you're being such a brat." He growled, pinning your arms above your head with a tight grip. You winced, letting out more whimpers as you looked at him with a pout. "Stop being a brat and I'll reward you now instead of later~" He whispered, licking the lobe of your ear, causing you to shiver as you felt yourself needing more.

You bite your lip, eyes wide, watching Toji free his erection from his pants. You felt yourself starting to drool as you watched his sensitive tip pulse as precum oozed. Toji smirked, his ego growing as he watched you go dumb at the sight of his cock. "That's right, baby~ If you beg me for it, I'll fill your needy pussy as much as you want~" You watched as he slid the tip up and down your folds teasingly, causing you to whine as you tried to free your wrists from his grip. "Toji!" You cry, not liking how he was teasing you so much. "Uh uh…." He tuts as he smacks your pussy twice with his rough hand, causing you to arch your back, tears falling. He chuckles, leaning to lick the tears up while nibbling on your jaw. "Come on, princess…say it. Beg me." He growls while pumping his twitching cock.

You bite your lip as you look up at him. "P-Please fuck me D-daddy." You beg with the most pathetic look Toji has ever seen. Before anything else can happen, Toji roughly thrusts into you, causing you to arch your back as you toss your head back from the intense feeling. "That's my good girl! Fuck you're such a good girl for me Y/n! Your pussy is so tight it makes me want to ruin you." He growls as his hips press against you. "Fuck! Daddy too deep! Too deep daddy!" You cry Toji just grins as he continues to pound into your abused hole, loving how fucked out your expression is. "Fuck baby, you look so dumb on Daddy's cock." He releases your hands as he tosses your legs over his shoulders, guiding your hands to his biceps. "You wanted to know why I always wanted to fuck you in this chair, right?" He growled as he pressed his forehead against yours, scanning your every expression with those eyes of his that you loved so much.

"It's because every time one of those fucking scumbags comes in here to get a tattoo while their filthy eyes scan your hot body…fuck… they're going to be sitting in this chair embedded with all your slutty juices from being fucked by your best customer." He laughs at the thought while relishing as he watches your eyes go back into your skull as your walls clamp down around him. "Fuck baby, are you gonna cum for me?" He growls, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to his face, kissing each tattoo that graced your skin. "So, fucking beautiful. You look so fucking sexy with these tattoos, baby. That fucking scumbag didn't know what he was saying." He moaned out, his thrusts becoming sloppy. You moan, your nails digging into the flesh of Toji's biceps.

"Daddy~ am I really that pretty~?" You whine, wanting to hear his praise again. Toji smirks as he presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss while cupping your cheeks in his hands, his thumbs rubbing your tear-stained cheeks. "The prettiest baby. You're so fucking sexy crying under me, covered in your art. Fuck baby, let me mark you~ I want everyone to see you, mine." He growls as he feels himself reaching his limit, gritting his teeth. You moan as you feel your orgasm quickly approaching. "Mmmh~ I won't be labeled like one of your whores." You admit causing Toji to scoff as he bites at your lip, his lustful green eyes locking with yours as he presses a deep kiss to your lips letting out a deep moan. "You're nothing like them, baby; ~ You're only mine~ I'll make you a new mark, yeah? Would you like that princess?" He leaves messy kisses across your face while gritting his teeth. "Daddy will give you a mark that only you can have~" He moans before giving you one last harsh thrust, his cum spraying all over your walls as he roughly bites into your shoulder to muffle his noises.

The two of you stay still for a moment, both recovering from your highs as Toji caresses your body, his hands admiring each tattoo he knows you worked hard on. "Yeah…I know what I'm going to do." He cooed, slowly pulling out from you and kissing your cheek as you whined from the sudden loss, causing you to feel empty. Toji hummed as he watched his cum spill from your messy hole, pride filling him as he reached for your tattoo gun, carefully turning it on as he gave you a sadistic smirk.

"Be a good girl for Daddy one more time tonight, baby~"

_______

Ding!

Your eyes slowly travel to the front door, where you see Toji standing with a new girl by his side. Ichigo giggles as she watches you lead them to the back and start tattooing the usual name onto whatever body part she's chosen. As you sit there carefully tattooing the girl, Toji stands behind you, his eyes landing on the tattoo, still healing on your shoulder. The detailed bite mark slightly starts to peel from the healing skin, causing Toji's eyes to narrow as he walks closer to you. "How's it looking Toji~?" The girl questioned with a giggle. Your body stiffens as Toji gently cups your shoulder, running his thumb across the healing tattoo. His eyes fill with lust as he licks his lips, noticing the deep blush on your cheeks.

"Oh yeah… it's looking perfect baby~"

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geekywritings · 11 months

Text

I thought you were dead

Another Cal Kestis x Reader story as requested by one of my lovely readers! Thank you very much for the idea: “Your writing is GORGEOUS! Would you mind wrighting a Cal x Reader where they get separated for a while (I mean like everyone is almost sure that Reader is dead) and the reaction to when the Reader shows up or when they run into Reader on a mission? Perhaps with a new scar? Like on their leg or something.“

_________

The chance of something bad happening to either of you, or any of the crew, had always been high. Such was the risk of working for someone like Saw Guerrera, after all. But Cal had not been prepared for the crippling sensation when the day did come.

The mission had appeared so easy. Go in, demolition the newly built Imperial supply base on Alderaan, steal as much intel as possible and leave. You had done it a dozen times already.

But this time, the clue you had received had been a trap. They had been waiting for you, ready to apprehend the terrorists that had been messing with their logistics for far too long. The crew had barely made it out alive. Well, most of the crew. You had been captured.

“We need to go.”, Bode, the newest member of your merry band had insisted and Cal had to agree through gritted teeth. Even if every part of his soul screamed to go back and look for you. If there was even a sliver of a chance of you being alive, he wanted to take it.

But the rest of the crew had given him the grief reminder that the Imperials weren’t known to show mercy. Especially not to rebel scum. All he could do now was come to terms with his loss and seek revenge.

For months, Cal fell into a hole, trying to fill the inner emptiness with work. His missions got more and more reckless, the fight more aggressive. He was beginning to walk dangerously close to the Dark Side, and he didn’t give a shit.

Attachments were forbidden for Jedi and now he partly understood why. Because losing the person in his heart broke him in ways he never could have imagined. If the loss of the Order and his Master had been bad, this was nothing short of a never-ending nightmare.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, trying to reach for your body next to his, just to find the space empty. Your clothes were still in the little cabin you shared on the Mantis, as Cal didn’t have the heart to remove them. Everything was as if you could return any moment and although the crew tried to convince the Jedi to let go, he refused. Something deep inside rejected the concept that you were truly gone.

Perhaps it was the Force whispering to him, because he was right. You were alive. Barely at first, but you were breathing. They had not shot you on the spot, which was a miracle in itself. What awaited you instead had been torture. Days and days of it in the hopes to extract some information about the rebellion. You didn’t say a word and tried to meditate instead, as Cal had taught you how to do.

Weeks passed between pain, unconsciousness, and despair until they finally grew bored. Instead of granting you a merciful death, they sent you to the Imperial prison on Wobani for hard labor. A mistake on their part, really. Didn’t they know who you were?

Getting out of the shithole was difficult, but not impossible. You just needed to bide your time to learn about the place, the people who worked there, the schedules of the transportation going in and out. After that, it was just a matter of moving quickly.

With the ship you stole, you made your way to the last rebel base you had called headquarters, switching ships in-between to cover your traces. All you wanted was to sleep for a few days. And maybe get a good meal.

But what awaited you at the landing platform was worth more than any comfortable bed or delicious food. The Mantis was there! You hadn’t expected it! Even though Cal had been on your mind constantly, the one thing that kept you going, you hadn’t thought to find him here.

“Cal…”, your voice didn’t carry, too parched from a lack of water.

Leaving your ship, you forced your body to walk across the platform and toward the familiar ship. As if on cue, the Jedi you were hoping to see emerged, looking left then right, his eyes stopping on you.

Impossible! He had thought he had felt you, but to see you there… Alive.

His pulse sped up a hundredfold, as he rushed toward you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close for what felt like eternity. You could feel his body shake lightly, his tears wetting your hair. You had never seen him like this. Then again, you were crying yourself, so you weren’t judging.

“How?”, he whispered, not managing to say much else.

“Long story…” You weren’t exactly capable of much more.

Finally releasing you, Cal took a good look at you, noticing the changes. You had lost weight, your hair a mess of knots and tangles and scars across your arms and even across your cheek and eyebrow. He could only imagine that there were more hiding beneath your clothes. Yet despite it all, he was just glad to see you alive.

“Are you in pain?”, he asked.

“I forgot what it’s like not to be in pain.”, you couldn’t hold back the bitter reply. “But I am even more tired and hungry. Imperial prisons aren’t exactly known for their excellent cuisine.” The humor was lost on Cal, as worry still reflected in his eyes.

“Let’s get you checked up. And then you can sleep and eat as much as you want.” And with that, he picked you up with ease, heading back toward the small base the rebels had built for themselves on this desolate moon.

“I never expected to see you again… But I thought of you every day.”, you whispered on the way.

“I thought of you too… I couldn’t accept that you were gone.”, he admitted, eyes on the road.

“Did you do stupid things while I was gone?”, you asked, noticing the change in him as well. Harder, more serious, broken in a new way.

“When am I not doing stupid things without your supervision?” Ah, he could still smile. The Cal you loved with all your heart was also still there. Relieved, you cuddled into him and fell asleep long before you even reached the medical unit. You were back. You were together again. And you would never be separated again, you both silently vowed.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x yn #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x reader #jedi survivor

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chaoticpuff17 · 11 months

Text

Amygdala

masterlist

chapter 2

Min Yoongi was a patient man. At least he considered himself to be so. He may not have been the most charming or the most skilled, but he was patient. He’d built his empire from the ground up through sheer power of will. He’d waited six years for the woman he loved to return to him. He should be able to give her space, to allow her to calm down, but he found himself on edge in a way that wasn’t natural for him. He was going crazy knowing that she was so close and yet not within his reach.

He’d lost her once. He wasn’t willing to lose her again, especially over something as trivial as his business endeavors. She’d understand. He knew she would, and if she didn’t, he’d just have to make her see things his way.

She had been a stubborn woman when he’d known her, and he couldn’t imagine that that had changed much over the years. It was one of the things he liked best about her though. Despite her stubbornness she wasn’t completely unreasonable. She could be brought around to see things from a different perspective. The problem would be getting her to agree to see him at all.

Jung Tae-il and his wife were as dear to her as any blood relative. If he’d known that one of his underlings had made a deal with the old man, he would have given them better terms simply for her sake, but that’s not what had happened. The deal had gone unnoticed by him, too insignificant in the grand scheme of things for him to pay it any mind. Why would he have? It was just one more person coming to beg for a loan when the banks wouldn’t give them one, another sob story. He couldn’t count the number of times someone had come begging for money to help a sick relative. They were beneath his notice, but this hadn't just been any other loan, and he was paying for that now.

It wasn’t completely hopeless though, not in his estimation. Despite the situation, despite her anger, this whole mess had brought her back to him. He knew where she was now, and there was no ocean separating them. How long had he waited to see her again? How often had he wondered if he’d ever get the chance?

Much like his number had changed over the years, so had hers though in a different way than his had. When they’d fought all those years ago, she hadn’t seen the need to give him her American number before she left. They hadn’t been on speaking terms, and her Korean number was of no use to him when her SIM card didn’t work across the ocean. She’d slipped away from him leaving him no way to contact her, no Whatsapp or Kakaotalk, nothing.

Seeing her again had felt like a weight had been lifted from him. The missing piece of him had come home. All of his regrets and the what ifs didn’t matter anymore because she was back, and he could fix it. He could fix everything.

He was good at it, fixing problems. It was why he had gotten taken on in this business in the first place, and it was why he had built up an empire of his own so quickly. He was quick. He was clever, and he was very good at fixing problems. Her ire was nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He was confident in that.

“Boss?” Minhwan interrupted his reflection, entering his office nervously. “I have the file you requested on Margot.” Quickly, he placed the manila folder on the desk, rushing to explain himself as his boss had been in a foul mood since the woman had first been brought to his attention, and a Min Yoongi in a foul mood was an especially dangerous Min Yoongi. “I have her address, her phone number, email address, her place of work. I could probably get access to her medical records given enough time.”

Yoongi ignored his sputterings and picked up the file, thumbing through it to ensure that all the requested information was in fact there, and pausing briefly on the picture attached to the file.

It was recent, probably an ID photo for work, but it was recent. It was the first photo of her he’d seen that wasn’t from six years ago, and while it was stiff and formal, it was her as she was now.

“I want a security detail on her at all times. Something subtle that she won’t notice.” He ordered, eyes still fixed to the photo.

“Sir?” Minhwan asked, unsure why this woman was so important or why his boss wanted a detail on her, but it was all highly unusual.

“If a single hair on her head is harmed, I’ll skin you all alive.” he warned, a strange glint in his eyes as he delivered the warning that made it perfectly clear that he would follow through on it.

“Of- of course, sir!” Minhwan stuttered, unsure what to make of his boss’s sudden order, unsure of what to make of most of his behavior in the past few days. “I’ll get someone on it right away.”

Yoongi breathed a sigh of relief as he left, leaning back in his chair with her photo in his hand.

Even if she didn’t want to see him at the moment, he wanted her safe. She’d probably murder him if she knew, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that so long as she was safe. If she wouldn’t let him be with her, this was the next best thing until he got the situation handled properly.

“Sir…” the man began hesitantly. “If I can ask… why is this woman so important?”

A Cheshire grin spread across Yoongi’s face at the question. “That, Minhwan, is the future Mrs. Min.”

—--

Saturdays, when school wasn’t in session, Margot liked to go to the hospital to sit with Maria in the mornings. Tae-il still had work, and it was nice for someone to come and keep the woman company even when she was only sleeping. It was more for their peace of mind than Maria’s anyway.

The treatments had left her more than a little worn out these days, and a good portion of her time was spent resting. Margot didn’t mind though. She was no stranger to hospitals or what happened in them. It was the reason she always came prepared with a secondary activity such as a book or some sort of craft. Today she was working on a cross stitch. It was an activity that Maria herself had introduced Margot to when she had been in college, and she still kept up with it, finding the repetitiveness of the motions soothing as she created a picture on the aida cloth.

“You know you don’t have to come every Saturday.” A scratchy voice chided her from the bed.

Without even looking up from her stitching, Margot replied. “Of course I do. Where else am I going to find peace and quiet and some decent conversation?” A wry grin twisted her lips.

“Such a silly girl.” Maria shook her head fondly. “Now tell me what’s got you stabbing that cloth as though it kicked your dog.”

Heat rose in her cheeks as she refused to meet Maria’s eyes. “It’s nothing.” she mumbled, stabbing her needle through the cloth again.

“It’s never nothing.”

“It could be nothing.”

“Margot.” Maria prompted gently.

“It’s fine.”

“Margot.”

“It’s nothing.” Margot peaked up, looking to see if Maria was leveling her with that stare that demanded an answer. “Really, it’s nothing.” Maria continued to stare at her. “I saw Yoongi again.” Margot relented after a few moments after that stare.

“Yoongi?” Maria asked, clearly trying to remember who the name belonged to. “What Yoongi? Not the one from university?”

“That one.” she admitted, stabbing her needle through the aida cloth again so she didn’t have to look at Maria.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You two were good friends.”

Bitterness rose in her throat. They had been good friends, but a lot had changed since then. It hadn’t seemed like anything had changed at all when he’d first come to the restaurant. They’d slipped into old patterns as naturally as if the years hadn’t separated them, and then the bomb had dropped ,and the illusion had shattered.

The Min Yoongi she’d been so excited to see again was not the same one she’d known when she’d been studying abroad. This was a man who she was solidly sure wasn’t involved in anything very legal when it came to business, especially if he was willing to terrorize people in the name of a loan, a loan she was also sure was less than legal after her conversation with Tae-il following Yoongi’s appearance.

She just couldn’t wrap her head around how the Yoongi she’d known had turned into some sort of loan shark. He’d always been quite, kind of private. Some might have even described him as stand-offish, but he’d always been so sweet to her. When you got to know him there was a sweet and at times goofy guy under that hard shell. It didn’t make sense to her that he was now working on the other side of the law, that he was the cause of so much fear in Tae-il.

“He’s not the same boy we all knew.”

Maria shrugged. “None of us are the same as we were six years ago. Time changes people. It’s natural.”

“Not like this. This was…” she paused, trying to think of the right words without giving too much away. Tae-il had been very clear that Maria didn’t know, and he didn’t want Maria to know. “This was something else. He’s not someone I would want to be around anymore.”

Maria nodded in understanding. “Sometimes that happens, and you two haven’t seen each other in a long time. It’s natural you drifted apart, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.” Margot peeked over at her. “You and I both know you loved that boy.” Maria said, wagging a bony finger at her. “It broke your heart to leave him behind.”

“He didn’t need to be such a jerk about it.” Margot reminded her.

“No, but he was also heartbroken that you were leaving. That boy would have done anything to convince you to stay.”

She scoffed in disbelief. “He wasn’t heartbroken, and he knew there was no way for me to stay. I had to go home.”

“He may have known that in here,” she tapped her forehead. “But here, that’s a different story.” she placed her hand above her heart, and Margot rolled her eyes, setting aside her stitching.

“You’re acting like he was in love with me.”

“He was!” Maria exclaimed with far more enthusiasm than a woman in her condition had any right to have. “Everyone could see it!”

“He was not!”

Maria shrugged again, pulling her robe around herself a little tighter. “Believe what you will, but that boy was crazy for you.”

“I think the meds are making you hallucinate, auntie.” Margot brushed her off, trying to ignore the heat that had rushed to her cheeks.

“Is it really as bad as all that? Can’t you two find a way to reconcile, get to know each other again?” She asked, peering at the younger woman curiously. “You two were such good friends, thick as thieves if I remember right.”

Margot hesitated. She wanted to. She really did, but knowing what she did, she just couldn’t see a way to do that. “I don’t think so. I think that we’re both just too different now. He’s on a path that I want no part of.”

“That’s a shame.” Maria sighed, leaning back into her pillows. “He really was such a nice boy.

Part 3

#bts fic #mafia bts #yandere bts #yandere #mafia #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #agust d x oc #mafia yoongi #mafia suga #mafia agust d #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #yandere agust d #mafia au #dark romance #mafia fanfic #yandere fanfic #amygdala

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moonlight-prose · 10 months

Note

Hello lovely, for your sinful soirée I’d like to request Tommy Miller and “don’t mind me. just enjoying the view.” ❤️🤭

DREADFUL NEED

a/n: the way i struggled with this when i was starting it. it's been a long time since i wrote smut and especially smut for him, but i feel like it's finally where i like it. there's no edits done and minor proofreading so there will most likely be mistakes. also a massive thank you to @sunflowersteves for basically cheering me on as i wrote this.

summary: "You wanted to see his smile fade as the realization struck him that he would have to work for it tonight."

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: tommy miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, tommy being a bit of a little shit, slight teasing, oral (f receiving), fingering, cum eating.

There was always something in that smile. A call to your heart. As if he were the siren and you were the sailor; ready to sink beneath the ocean waves to seek out what you wanted most. It was a need that yanked at your heart, shoved its way to the very forefront of your mind.

Until you couldn’t think of anything but him.

Tommy smiled again, his eyes dropping down to where your hands were tracing a random shape on the couch cushion. It took you a moment to realize that it wasn’t random at all. The small movement matched the exact one he pressed to your skin whenever he held you. His thumb, attempting to spread some comfort through your body.

“Honey,” he murmured, his eyes finding yours again, slightly darker than before.

“Hm?”

He sunk down into his chair further, legs spreading to catch your attention. You hated how much he knew you. How he could drag your eyes right where he wanted, holding you rapt with unspoken want. Except nothing was ever left unsaid with him. You didn’t have to say a single thing for him to understand what you wanted—what you ached for.

“Come here,” he said, his words nearly stopping your heart in its place.

A heat spread low in your stomach, wrapping like vines around your nerves—searing you from the inside out. It beckoned you towards him, begged you to move, to finally give into what he wanted. But the stubborn streak he loved fought back. Telling you to make him come to you, if only to hold the upper hand for a moment more. You wanted to see his smile fade as the realization struck him that he would have to work for it tonight.

“Honey.” His words were lower, smile slowly slipping into something else.

You spread your legs, matching his position and revealing what he yearned for. His shirt rode up your thighs, hitching around your hips and giving him an eyeful of the dark spot staining your light pink panties. A sight that had him leaning closer, his eyes watching as your hand slid down to your thighs, holding still dangerously close to where you needed him most.

“You come here,” you murmured. Part of you expected your voice to waver, the nerves thrumming an erratic beat in your chest. But you sounded strong, determined to get what you wanted before the night ended.

He smiled again, seeing the way you shifted on the couch from want, your legs threatening to close. “Give me a second.”

“Tommy,” you sighed, head falling back against the cushion and fingers trailing along the seam of the damp fabric.

The sharp inhale he took echoed through the room, giving you more incentive to continue. Pressing down until the pad of your finger caught on your clit, causing sparks to streak up your spine. A soft moan fell from your lips, hips canting up to chase more of your touch. Except it was the sound of him moving that forced you to pause entirely. His large form blocked the light from the lamp as he dropped down to his knees, his shoulders keeping your spread open for him.

“Don’t mind me honey. Just enjoying the view,” he drawled, lips pulled up into that small smile you felt go through you as if he’d just touched you himself.

Words built up in the back of your throat, but they didn’t have to be said, because he already knew. He could see the need on your face, the struggle of wanting him to replace your hand with his. Pressing a kiss to your knee, he watched your chest heave—the breath leaving you faster than you could take it in.

“I got you honey,” he murmured, his hand sliding up and pressing down on your fingers, watching in delight as your head fell back, your mouth dropping open.

“T-Tommy I’m—fuck,” you gasped.

He placed another kiss on your thigh, his teeth digging into the plush skin softly. “You come when you need to come alright? Take what you need.”

The firm pressure of his fingers guiding yours caused your legs to shake. A familiar curling heat building up in your body, claiming you with every small movement he made. You panted, an incoherent whine of his name and please mixed together echoing in the room. But he left that option up to you. Never giving you more, never less. The choice remained clear for you through the hazy fog that crept into your mind.

He wanted you to take everything he had to offer. Consume it with a hunger that gnawed within his body, screaming out for you as he watched intently. Licking at his lips, he watched the wet spot grow darker, spreading until it nearly turned the light pink a dark mauve. Except you couldn’t focus on that. Not when he pressed even further on your fingers, nearly pushing them inside you and forcing the heat to sear through you.

“That’s it,” he mumbled, his other hand digging into your hip. “C’mon honey.”

You wanted to shout his name until your fucking neighbors heard you, but all that came out was a garbled moan. He continued to keep you right there. Unable to fall over, until you pressed your hips forward. Grinding them into the mixture of your touches. He gasped softly, mouth parted as he watched you with dark eyes that swallowed his pupil entirely.

“R-right there—god!” you cried, his fingers pressing even harder until you were being dragged roughly to the very edge.

Something snapped in his mind, his hand yanking away despite your loud sob of protest. He yanked you forward, his hands rushing to push your underwear to the side as he sucked your clit into his mouth. As if the block in your throat vanished the second his tongue licked up whatever dripped from you, a shout of his name bounced off the walls. He groaned, digging himself closer, until you were nearly bent in half.

“Fuck, fuck! Tommy I’m—”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, the release you’d been aching for consuming you entirely. Your hands scrambled to grab onto his shoulders, nails digging sharply down as you broke. The tightness in your stomach gave way to that delicious blinding heat that spread through your body. Turning you into a writhing mess beneath him.

He moaned into you, drinking down what he could take. A man desperate for the very taste of you.

Falling limp against the couch, you moaned when he continued. Licking gently at your cunt until you had to pull him off. His name, a soft whine against your lips. Shifting up, he kissed you, spreading what he had left against your tongue and grinning when you shuddered. Your body, soft and pliant beneath his touch.

“You enjoy the view?” you asked, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

He laughed, the warmth of his body pressing comfortably into yours. “You bet I did. Best damn view of my life honey.”

Tugging him closer, you kissed him languidly—your tongue sweeping along his bottom lip. “I’m gonna need a view of my own,” you breathed, glancing down at the straining erection in his jeans.

Tommy chuckled, his hands reaching down to the button and popping it open. “All you had to do was ask.”

#tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x y/n #tommy miller #tommy miller smut #the last of us fic #the last of us #my writing #sinful soiree🥀

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sebastianswallows · 19 days

Text

The English Client — Four

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, but almost main character death lol

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

Tom stayed away for a few days. He stalked around some other rare book stores but found none of what Caractacus Burke was searching for. Still, it gave ample enough time for her to forget about him. He needed to be out of her mind before he carried out his plan.

He sat at a café outside her store one evening, waiting to see her go home again. Not able to stand another cup of coffee, hot and bitter, he decided to try something he’d seen so many other locals eating. It was called ‘gelato’. A frozen treat, it looked like clotted cream and was eaten with a little spoon. Tom regretted ordering it the moment it arrived, but with each bite, he became a little fonder of it. It was cold and vaguely sweet with a drizzling of cherry jam on top. He reached the bottom of the cup before he even realised, and licked the spoon clean afterwards.

She stepped out later this time, at around six o’clock. Tom got up not long after but he didn’t follow her. His gaze trailed after her from behind a pair of aviator shades — her white shirt fluttering with each step, hair soft upon her shoulders — and let himself enjoy the view until she disappeared beyond the curve of a building that bent like a wave. Then he turned the other way, the way she came from.

The lamp lights were just coming on, bathing the marble a sulphuric yellow. He took his sunglasses off and tucked them in his shirt as he slid through the narrow street the shop was on. There was nobody around, but he could hear the echoes of other people through the walls of the nearby buildings. The area was a mix of domestic and commercial, small old flats and little shops which made it quite unpredictable. It was a very intimate setting, and dangerous for that very reason — few escape routes should anyone appear.

He peered through the glass first at the organised chaos inside, the clutter and piles of precious old things that lifetimes would not suffice to explore. Between them, Tom saw his reflection staring back. He aimed his wand at each lock and muttered an Alohomora. The spell let him in like butter.

The shop was just faintly lit from beyond the large display windows, rendering every book and smooth wood surface into a little sunburst. The air was light with dust, and dry, and cold in the way libraries often were. The pillars that held the ceiling high were cinder-black, and carved so finely that the wood seemed lace and pillow soft. A sweet scent lingered in the cavernous construction. It really was a marvellous atmosphere… Tom wouldn’t have minded staying if circumstances were different. His grandfather’s ring trilled around his finger.

Regardless of how old the building was, the interior was certainly built to order. It had a hint of the Victorian with a Renaissance flair. Tom had been in enough rich people’s houses to tell. It amused him how much they were all alike in taste, as if they were part of the same secret breed.

He stepped further in. The floorboards creaked and, looking down, a small amount of dust flew up. Curious. Perhaps it really didn’t get that many customers so often. The other shops he had visited this week all seemed to have at least another two clients while he was there… Strange, as this shop was bursting with books, and in an accessible location too. Tom could only guess that either they were prohibitively selective with their clientele, or the place had a bad reputation.

He found her ledgers tucked underneath the desk. They were split into three themes: Letteratura, Religione, and Esoterismo. He opened the latter.

It was detailed, thick, and finely indexed with the most minuscule writing. Instead of listing their catalogue, it listed all the authors they seemed to have an interest in, whether or not they held any of their books. Prices were next to certain volumes, along with purchasing dates. Others were annotated with the shop or collector that held them. From Agrippa to Cheiro to Crowley, from Novalis to Paracelsus, Roerich, and Sepharial, they had their eye on everyone. He turned toward the end, pale finger brushing through the T’s.

They had nothing by Tamisso, another author on his list, although they did have a copy of The Lost Word by Trevisan — a more recent edition than the 1870 one that Mr. Burke wanted, but still serviceable. But what he was really looking for was Torchia.

And he found him. A whole half-page was dedicated to him, even if the books were few and three-quarters of the space was empty. They must’ve expected to find more of his works in the future.

But as he was reading, the ring started feeling heavier, like its black stone wanted to pull loose. Oftentimes, the splinter of his soul that was trapped inside was a bit of a canary in a coal mine, more sensitive to changes in Tom’s surroundings than he was… He gazed suspiciously toward the ring and put the ledger down.

Tom looked up at the ceiling. It was tall and too dark to see, absorbing the most highly placed volumes like a black hole, like a void. Looking down, between the floorboards, the same infinite darkness. It occurred to him that perhaps the place was cursed. An unlikely idea given that it was a building belonging to muggles, but he’d seen stranger things. And after all, he still didn’t know who the owner was.

He looked at the catalogue again.

Torchia, A.

Key to Captive Thoughts, 1653 — four three copies

A Curious Explanation of Mysteries and Hieroglyphs, 1655 — one copy sold to H. Àristos, 1949

The Three Books of the Art, 1658 — one copy, private ownership → Luce

He scanned further down the line, and there it was: Delomelanicon.

It wasn’t written up like the others. It had no number, no mention of its year of publication, nor even where it was. All it had was a strange symbol next to it, like a plus sign with a downward arrow. Tom couldn’t guess what it meant.

But they had it, they must have. He closed the book with satisfaction and an overflow of greed, and carefully put it back in its place.

With the bookshop all to himself, Tom explored at his leisure. He stepped lightly, almost reverently, through its misty dusty rooms veiled by growing darkness. He cast Lumos when entering the second room, which had no windows to the outside world. A thick red carpet muffled his steps.

His first stop was at the section where she had searched for Helena Blavatsky, assuming the shelves followed the logic of the ledgers and were organised thematically as well as alphabetically. He pulled the ladder over and started to climb, holding the wand between the tips of his fingers.

Names spread before him, ancient and powerful. Some of them were only mentioned in the most proscribed of texts, others he hadn’t even heard of. It was one thing to see them listed so economically, and another to see their naked spines, crack them open, part them, and touch their wavy pages.

He had to pause once he came across a 17th-century copy of the Cyranides. How many men died for merely reading this book… What horror, what beauty. He turned to the page on the use of bezoars and smiled. The illustration braided around the page was of a watersnake, unmoving, done with an almost childish hand. It was from a more innocent time when such magical knowledge was a thing of fear and wonder, exclusive and yet renown, whispered about, admired. Not hidden away.

Holding the wand between his teeth, Tom pulled the ladder and himself a bit further to the right. Its wheels were loud enough to make him wince.

He found a wealth of books in this place that made him feel things he had not felt in a while: greed, desire, admiration… He hadn’t seen so many wonderful tomes since Hogwarts. For long moments in large swaths, he forgot his mission. Eagerly, his hands picked up any volumes he could reach without the ladder tipping over, and he sipped in eager drops the ancient wisdom, a few pages at a time, admiring the crude but honest illustrations before, with a heavy heart, putting them back on the shelf.

Finally, he reached Torchia. A few of his works were there, the same ones mentioned in the ledger, but not the Delomelanicon. Tom brushed his finger on the shelf, and it came up with a fluff of dust. Hadn’t been touched for a long time…

It occurred to him as he climbed down the ladder that they could have had hidden compartments, as such bookstores sometimes did. Borgin and Burkes did too, although theirs was hidden by magic. Muggles would have had some contraption hidden behind a painting or shelf. He cast another glance around him before moving forward again, step by heavy step. Between those dormant shelves, he saw another surreptitious doorway toward another room.

III

The place grew labyrinthian. Tom felt as though he was disturbing a tomb, and without even needing to his steps grew gentler. The ring around his finger ached again, but he ignored it.

He was exploring a glass case with a pyramid of skulls in the corner of a room three doorways from the entrance, further in the building and blissfully chill on the exposed skin of his arms and neck, when suddenly he noticed something about the creaking of the floorboards: he couldn’t hear it anymore.

Tom looked down, his shoes soft on the carpet, and shifted his weight. No sound, but there was a bit of a tilt beneath him as the wood moved. He moved to the side and toed the carpet away. At first glance, he noticed nothing strange, but when he cast Revelio, a piece of metal shone and the edges of a trapdoor revealed themselves before him.

“I’ve got you now,” he grinned.

He stepped away, grabbed the edges of the carpet, and folded it further back. It was a trapdoor alright, large enough for two people to fit through. The area was clean, as if it saw regular use. Could it be a secret way into and out of the shop? Well, he’d seen her always use the front door, so it was most likely a storage area.

He dug into his trouser pocket for something, anything that he could use, and found the Swiss army knife he’d gotten from Clement. The thought occurred to him that it was a misuse of a gift to rob a bookshop with it, but that thought died quickly in Tom’s heated mind. He had a job to do.

He slid its blade between the folds of wood and pressed the handle down. Marvolo’s ring squeezed and pulled at his finger, and Tom cursed at it to be quiet. The trapdoor undulated at the strain as he moved the blade around, but the thing was as good as nailed down on all sides.

“Come on, you piece of muggle trash, open,” he hissed between clenched teeth.

He pushed, edging the wood upwards, and the bit of leverage made it flap as far as its hinges would allow. Holding the wand between his teeth for light, he moved it slightly, checking in every direction for a keyhole. The only thing he found was a burn mark that shone in the faint light, small and round and crested. It was probably a hidden button or a kind of keyhole, the kind of which he’d seen before in a couple of places both at Hogwarts and elsewhere. Tom grinned, moved the blade there, and pressed harder right beneath it.

“Aaaah!” he groaned, nearly dropping the wand from his teeth.

The ring was shooting pain all the way up his arm now, and his muscles strained. He clenched his teeth and pressed the blade in further, deeper, but the longer he tried to get it open, the more useless the attempt seemed, and he was overcome with a feeling of wrongness — as if he actually cared that he was trespassing.

He got up, sighed, and wiped the sweat off his brow. The feeling of guilt that had been bubbling in his stomach crested and crawled up his bones until he felt the sickness in his throat. He was overcome with the desire to leave and put this place behind him. A traitorous thought…

No, he wasn’t feeling sick. That nasty little door was enchanted. There was probably a curse on it, not too dissimilar to those placed on Egyptian tombs, meant to ward prospective thieves away. The emotions that swirled in his breast, the guilt, the shame, none of it came from him. It was something he was forced to feel by whatever enchantment guarded the place. What an insidious little spell… He frowned and pointed his wand down at the trapdoor again.

“Finite incantatem.”

Nothing happened.

“Finite incantatem!” he said again, more clearly and imperious.

The trapdoor mocked him with its silence. Tom looked down at his wand as if it were impotent.

“Of all the damned… Revelio,” he cast again, but nothing new appeared. “Alohomora!”

And that was when it struck him.

The spell worked, but just for an instant before it was undone and something fired back at him. A shard of death crawled up his spine and pooled inside his heart, pushing him backwards into the sharp edge of a table. The lamps on it rattled from the impact.

He felt dizzy for a moment, his body numb and cold, then nauseous when his senses came back to him at once. Pain billowed at his lower back so hard it filled his throat with bile. He clung to the edge of the table and kept himself just barely standing, managing the breath to groan.

“By Salazar’s f-fucking… Ow!”

Among all the sudden pain, he noticed that his arm was numb. The ring had stopped hurting him. It got its point across… The door was cursed, and so severely that, if not for his Horcrux, he surely would have died.

Tom clenched his teeth and hissed at the bothersome little entrance, cursing it in parseltongue. He kicked the carpet back over it and rubbed his aching hip where he already felt a bruise forming. There was nothing else he could do there, at least not tonight. He’d have to go back to his hotel, hopefully not limping all the way, and plan his next steps.

“I’ll get you yet,” he muttered with a parting glare. “And whatever mongrel of a mage made you.”

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

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brighttears · 8 months

Text

Battery

Joel Miller x f!reader

Series masterlist

No physical description

Summary: You met Tess in the Boston QZ because you have a battery for her car. She introduces you to her sidekick Joel, the handsome, hardass who looks like he wants to kill you. You’re leaving Boston with them in the morning.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: deals in Boston with unfriendly characters, drinking, Joel takes sleeping pills

A/n: Wrote this is one sitting with very minimal editing heehee. Obviously screaming for more parts but I just decided to put this out and see what happens with it

—

You sit on a rusty metal folding chair in the musty basement you’ve come to know well, sitting next from your new friends Tess—the person you’ve come here to sort of compromise with, someone who promises a car to give a home to the battery you’ve come here to score in the first place. You met her at work, rolling paint over Firefly logos. You don’t usually chit–chat with your ‘coworkers’, and Tess said the same thing to you when you started talking, but you did, and it was maybe the most pleasant experience you’ve had in your year in the Boston QZ. Somehow, you clicked, and now, you guess you could say you’re something like friends. You even laughed once. More importantly, you both decided you could put a little trust into each other. The paramount detail, however, is that she’s looking for a car battery, and you know someone who has one, and you were going to speak with him the next day anyway. Finally, you both might have a way out of this hellhole.

She did tell you that her other friend, Joel, is “kind of a piece of work, a real hard head who will look like he wants to kill you”, but goddamn did she mean that. He’s currently glaring at you from across the table, trying to size you up, looking like he’s trying to make you explode with his mind despite the fact that you’re here to do him a huge fucking favor. Next to him is your dealer, a poorly built man who can handle a lot more than he looks like he can, and a man who has plenty of people to back him up for what he can’t. He’s the King Rat, dirty and only seen in basements, but a kingpin just the same. He has a couple of his men around the room with him now, standing by the door with their hands clasped like ex-marines, doing their job at creating an atmosphere of static danger, telling you that he is the person that decides when and if you leave this room. However, your fear is on the backburner. You have become somewhat of a regular in King Rat’s basement—his actual name, the one you address him as, being Wojciech—for deals, trades more like it, but all of it being a forerunner for this right meeting right now.

“Now, you know I like you,” he says to you, lazily raising a finger with something like a smile, “but I do not know either of you.” He waves his finger at Joel and Tess.

“I like them,” you tell him, a white lie, “that’s why I brought them here. I thought you’d want to know the whole deal here.”

“And we would both like to be here to see that the goods are real.” Tess says, face stoney.

The static in the air picks up, though no one moves.

Wojciech grows a slow grin, looking her right in the eyes. You watch them, trying to determine if this is about to get nasty, trying to read what you might be able to do to calm it down. He is a person to learn. Tess, apparently, is someone who doesn’t really give a fuck. Some may think she’s stupid to be so curt, but you can tell that she can hold the fuck her own. Plus, Joel looks like he could rip someone's throat out with ease. Still, you tense.

“Aah,” he drawls, “smart woman. I can understand that. Yes, very smart. Well,” he flicks his hand out to a man behind him who then produces the battery onto the table, “it is very real. And it can be all yours,” he looks at you now, still grinning, “at the agreed price.” You then unload from your bag onto the table a fat stack of ration cards, a metal box full of various kinds of bullets, and a large plastic bag full to the brim of fat white pills.

Wojciech’s eyes widen and he licks his lips as if you’ve just placed a freshly cooked Thanksgiving style turkey on the table.

“Good girl,” he says, still drooling over the payment, “what a sight, what a sight. You are a good girl, you know,” he looks up at you, his hands absentmindedly flexing. You try to smile, although his words make you want to gag. He is a person to learn, and also a person to swallow your bile for. This is just how he talks, and he’s never actually tried to lay a hand on you, so you can put up with it. Besides, once this deal is done, you'll never have to see him again. Just as his mouth is probably salivating for what's on the table right now, so is yours. You force yourself to keep Wojciech’s gaze instead of staring at the car battery.

Still, though, you can see Joel’s eyes on you, still looking at you like you don’t belong here, like he hates you. So far, you really don’t like him, but it’s not him you care about, it’s the car he has.

“You know, I will miss you, you and your sneaky ways. I don’t know how you did this, but I will never ask, because I don’t care as long as you get it onto my table.” He laughs heartily, leaning back in his chair with his hands still flexing, the sounds ending in squeaks, as they always do, which has added to the sticking nickname of Rat King.

You got this stuff by saving, scraping, working a lot, and, yes, some stealing, along with making ‘friends’ with some guards who will never get the chance to get in your pants, though flirting was your main method of essentially manipulating them. It was hard work, never honest, but worth it. And now, finally, it is about to pay off.

“Well, seems we’re done here now, right?” Tess says.

Wojciech’s eyes roll to hers, relaxing back in his chair, still with his somewhat disquieting half grin.

“Down to business. I like that. I like you, too, miss missy. Too bad you’ll be taking this battery and then be far gone right?”

Tess says nothing, which is smart.

Rat King finally gives in, “Aah”ing as he slides the battery across the table while one of his men bags up the other items on the table.

You take the battery in your hands, sliding it over to yourself, then standing to set your now empty bag on the table next to it. It barely fits, but it does.

Everyone else raises to their feet as you do, concluding the meeting. Wojciech is grinning at you again, wide, thin, full of small teeth, his eyes squinting with it.

“Once again, very nice doing business with you,” you say to him, reaching out your hand for him to shake and hoping the grimace doesn’t show in your smile.

“Yes, yes, as always, I really will miss you, you know.” He tells you as he shakes your hand, sweaty and tight.

You say nothing. You try to say as little as you can with him, just be polite as possible; get in, get out.

He lets go of your hand and then nods, signaling permission for your departure. You lead Tess and Joel out, all filing up the narrow staircase back into the sunlight. The bag hurts your shoulders, but you need to hide the weight, make it look like nothing important as you walk down the streets.

“Alright, golden girl,” Tess says to you, now in stride next to you with Joel on the other side of her, “smartest way to do this is you stay with us tonight, and then you leave with us in the morning. Sound good to you?”

You nod, “Sounds good to me.”

“You got any shit to pick up at your place or are you good?”

“I’ve got everything I own on me.”

“Really?” She screws her face up with her question.

“Yup. Clothes, two loaded guns, and two knives.”

“No food?”

“Nope. Sorry I have nothing to offer on that front, but, that’s part of how we got this big thing on my back.” You pull the strap of your bag more securely on your shoulder.

“So, what,” Joel grumbles, “we just s’spossed to supply that for you?” He asks, mostly rhetorically. Really, he’s saying fuck you, who do you think you are?

Before you can snap anything back, Tess says, giving him a warning look, “Well, I think it’s a pretty fair fucking trade, seeing as she is the reason that we’re finally getting the fuck out of here.”

Joel stares at her for a moment, glowering, then looks back down the road, grumbling under his breath.

Tess switches her gaze to you, “We’ve got shit saved up, don’t worry about it.” You nod, grateful.

The rest of the walk is silent, all the way up to their apartment. Once at the door, Tess tells you, “Stay out here for a second, we gotta talk.” You nod, and she closes the door. You stay still, listening in on their private conversation.

“I don’t like this.” Comes Joel’s muffled voice, “I do not want to add another person into our lives.”

“Well, this is how it’s gonna go. She has a battery, we don’t. We need her. She’s solid.”

“And how do you know that? You just met ‘er.” Joel snaps back.

“Because I know, Joel. Look, do you trust me? Good. So, trust me. I understand you’re worried, I know you think this will complicate things, but we need her, and I trust her, ok?”

“It’s stupid to trust someone you barely know. I don’t like ‘er, I don’t like that prick Wojciech, I don’t like any of this. We can find another battery, alone.”

“No, we can’t. Who knows how long that will take? We have one right in front of us. This is our chance, Joel. To get out of here. Go find Tommy.”

There’s a pause, a shuffle of feet, and then Tess’s voice again, barely audible, “There’s just something about this chic. Okay? I like her. I really think she’s worth keeping around.”

Joel says nothing.

“Alright?”

He says nothing again.

“Good. Now, be nice.”

You smile. You’re starting to really like Tess; the unspoken command she has over his angry bear of a man, this authority she holds over seemingly the air itself, instantly knocks up your respect for her. Thank god you like at least one of the people you’re about to travel with, to wherever they’re going.

She opens the door then with a slight, polite smile, “Come on in. Get that thing off your shoulders. I’m sure they’re bruised by now.” As you enter, she adds, kind of offhandedly, “We need to talk.”

You offer a matching smile back, walking in and finding the table to set down your heavy bag before joining her on the couch. Joel sits in a chair in the corner, still looking annoyingly murderous. You stare right back, blankly, challenging him. He scares you just as much as half of the people in Boston, so it doesn’t really hit like it used to. He’s not gonna hurt you, he just wants you to feel like he will. You almost sigh, tired of shit like this.

He looks pissed as fuck, but, eventually, he looks to the ground, submitting to Tess’s request of ‘being nice’.

Joel is almost like a puppy, well, more like a dog, a guard dog, who sits in the corner, watching and glaring as much as a dog can, who eventually huffs, defeated, and plods over to lay at your feet. He reminds you of an old, tired, Saint Bernard. Tess is unquestionably his owner, known this dog for years, able to command him with one word or even just her eyes.

“Look,” Tess interrupts your musing, her eyes demanding your attention, sitting next to you with her hands clasped over spread knees. “Him and I, we are not good people. We are here to get what we want, and go.”

Something about Tess makes you think that she may have been a mother at some point. You like it.

She continues, “I think we can help each other out. You wanna get outta here, too, right?”

You nod, “As soon as possible.”

She half chuckles, “Well, we’re on the same page, then. Joel here has a brother somewhere out in—”

“Tess,” Joel suddenly hisses, not even looking at you when he addresses you, “she does not need to know that.”

Tess barely gives him a look before she looks back to you, continuing on, “Somewhere out in Wyoming.”

“She did not need to know that.” Joel repeats, firmer.

Tess turns to him then, pausing. “Look. We all have the same goal, now. Get the fuck out of Boston. And that’s where we’re headed, and she’s coming along, so, yes, she does need to know that. It’s as much her business as it is ours.”

“Who the fuck says she’s comin’ along? We’re gettin’ her out of Boston, an’ that’s it.”

Deciding you have a right to say something on the matter, you interject, “I want to get as far away from Boston as I can. I’ll go as far as you can take me. And for what it’s worth, I’m not gonna rob you, I’m not gonna kill you, I just want—”

“That’s worth nothin’.” Joel snaps, glaring at you again.

You huff, glaring back. “I get it. I’m a stranger. So are you. But I’m coming with you, because it’s my fucking battery. I busted my ass getting that thing. And if we’re getting this car, we’re gonna be stuck in close quarters for a while, so you might as well get used to me, and I might as well get used to you. We’re helping each other out here, ok? I’m not just cargo. I am a fucking asset. That should be apparent enough now. That Wojciech guy is not easy to fucking work with, you’re lucky you got to be in the room to begin with. Because I got him to trust me. Cause I can get my hands on things others cannot. I know shit. I know how to talk to people. And I have shit out there. I know what to do, where to go. I’ve only been in Boston for a year. I was out there for years. I have shit stashed, and I know where it is. And I can show you. And we can share it. I’m not a child, I’m not useless, and I’m not stupid. So be nice, ok?”

Joel just stares back, glowering, grinding his teeth.

“What is this,” Tess speaks up, “a staring contest? Look, we don’t have time for this. We’re leaving in the morning, and she’s right, you need to get used to each other. I don’t have the patience to deal with this shit, ok?”

You’re not exactly sure who she’s addressing while you’re still steady with Joel’s gaze. If this is a staring contest, you are way too stubborn to lose, especially after how he’s been treating you.

After a moment, Joel finally submits, casting his eyes to the floor before he gets up and goes to the kitchen where he digs a large, thick glass bottle out from the top shelf of a cabinet, a quarter of the way full with golden, what you assume to be, liquor. He doggedly retrieves two, then three, cups. He holds all three in one hand, a finger in each, with the bottle in his other hand. He comes to the table before the couch, moving slow, resistantly, like he’s trying to rub it in how much he does not want to be setting the glasses down to pour one for Tess, but then also one for you. He keeps his gaze down as he does and then pours his own glass, not even bothering to set the bottle down so that he can immediately pour himself another after downing the first. You watch as he pulls a bag out of his pocket and takes two big, fat, white pills—the same kind you just passed hundreds of over to Wojciech—to swallow down with his alcohol. He pauses, turns, and tosses the bag to you. You catch it, look at it in your palm, and then set it on the table.

Joel glances over at it, “T’s not laced.” There’s taut irritation in his voice, “I jus’ took one.” You dumbass is easily heard, though he doesn’t say it, instead taking a sip and trying to hide the grimace it gives him.

“I don’t want one.” You tell him, “I prefer less sleep. ‘Few hours keep me sharp.” You don’t take your eyes off of him, though he only keeps you in his peripheral.

The alcohol is harsh on your tongue, a mixture of every type of alcohol to exist, probably, and not watered down like you’re used to. You polish the glass off in one gulp, unintentionally slamming the glass back down on the table with a wince. Tess chuckles and gulps hers down as well.

She sets her glass down almost as hard as you had, then says to you, “Alright, you get the couch. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she gets up and goes into the next room over.

Joel stays standing, glass and bottle still in hand, not looking at you. He pours himself another one, then plods closer to pour you another as well. He abandons the bottle on the table then and sits in the chair in the corner in a way that ages him. The setting sun crosses orange over his chest and lights up his face; he’s rough, and handsome. More handsome than you want him to be.

His flits his eyes around, considering, then submitting again with a sigh.

“So, you said you got stuff stashed around?” He says, finally looking at you.

You nod as you sip, trying to mute a grimace.

“Where?”

“Few miles from here. Pretty much a straight shot from the gates. Then some more a few miles further.”

“You know how to get us there?”

“Yes.” You answer, annoyed.

He sighs, then grimaces with his sip. He pauses again, looking absentmindedly at the seat next to you on the couch, then speaks again, “So you said you only been here a year?” You nod. “Why’d you come?”

“For a break.”

“A break,” he nearly chuckles.

“I know, not much of one. That’s why I’m ready to leave.”

“You got a destination in mind?”

“No.”

“Good.”

There's a pause. You want to know more about him, the reasoning you assign to being for the safety of your own travels.

“So, brother?” You inquire.

Joel takes a slow sip, answering with a grimace probably both from the taste and the decision to answer, “Yes.”

“Why isn’t he with you?”

Joel considers the walls before he answers, “We had a disagreement.”

“About what?”

“Morals. You gonna finish that?”

You keep eye contact as you down the dregs of your drink. He keeps the gaze as well, examining you as he licks his teeth behind his lips. He sighs, then looks through the window.

“You gonna watch me as I sleep?” You quip. He turns back to you, eyes looking you over again.

“No.” With that, he gets up, walks to the table to set his glass down, and leaves into the next room over.

When he’s gone, you sigh. What an introduction. Tess seems solid, but Joel is fucking exhausting. You hope to god he lets up on his go fuck yourself air about him soon enough, but you can’t tell if that’s a possibility. You have to admit, it’s a bit winsome, and definitely intriguing. He’s a nut you’d love to crack, and if things do work out, you should have plenty of time.

You lay back on the couch and close your eyes. You feel almost like a kid on Christmas Eve, so much so that you consider the bag of sleeping pills on the table, but you’ve never touched them and you don’t plan on starting now. That would be stupid. Maybe by now, however long he’s been here, Joel is used to going to sleep in a bed and being sure he’ll be fine until he wakes up in the morning, but you are not. It is an idea that’s nice to have in your head, allowing you maybe a few hours more sleep than you used to get, but that all ends tomorrow. You’re not upset about that, though; sometimes, it feels like out there is your natural habitat. You have no qualms with leaving these walls. So, you try your best to welcome sleep, to get the next few hours over with so you can start the next chapter.

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