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#i'm just very over the adult man
kettlefire · 2 months
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Time forgets most (DPxDC)
I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post
°•°•°•°
The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.
Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.
Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.
The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.
Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.
When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.
Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.
As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.
Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.
On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.
Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.
The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.
That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.
The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.
He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.
Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.
Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.
Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.
Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.
Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.
The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.
A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.
The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.
Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.
Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.
It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.
But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.
Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.
He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.
It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.
It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.
Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.
The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.
Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.
A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.
The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.
Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.
Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.
Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.
As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.
Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.
It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.
Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.
It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.
The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.
It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.
After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.
Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.
Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.
Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.
They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.
The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.
At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.
This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.
When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.
A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.
That was until Hal saw him.
Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.
Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.
A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.
Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.
The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.
Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.
Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.
Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.
The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.
Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.
Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...
Or...
Or...
He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.
That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.
Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.
Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.
Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.
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crabussy · 1 year
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RRARAAAAAAAAAUUAUUAAGHHHHH
#ITS 12AM AND I HAVE BIG EXAMS TOMORROW#and people are taking my lighthearted post far too seriously and claiming some pretty awful things about my intentions#???????? I'm just some 17 year old who thought housetrucks were interesting#and recognised that they're likely the only kind of accommodation I'd be able to afford once I'm an adult#like YEAH YOUR POINTS ABOUT ROMANI APPROPRIATION ARE VALID and I am willing to listen. I know its frustrating#but also I've looked into the history of housetrucks within nz and the people who first built them?#they just built them out of necessity. not to mimic or romanticise romani suffering. I can't find any mention of romani inspiration#I SPECIFICALLY included photos of NZ HOUSETRUCKS ONLY and not romani wagons or similar because#a lot of new zealanders live poorly and have to resort to that lifestyle. SOME new zealanders live in housetrucks just because they can#but I guarantee you it is a very small amount because they're extremely inefficient and dangerous to live in#the only reason I was posting about them with such excitement is because I'm ecstatic about maybe being able to afford a home before I'm 40#ranting about this in the tags and not in a reblog because goddd dude I don't want to look like some racist prick or something#to the person who reblogged the housetruck post with the stuff I'm talking about#if you're looking through my blog for whatever reason#I understand what you're saying but man that wasn't my intention at all#I'm a burnt out mentally ill IB student who made that post to cope with escapism#I didn't make it to erase romani lives or your culture I just made it because I need a hope for a liveable future#houses in new zealand usually cost over a million dollars I literally just want to look forward to living somewhere#warning bells in my mind right now please please don't twist my words it's 12am and I'm stressed out of my mind#god I feel awful I need to sleep#sick of being on the internet I am so so careful to be as respectful and careful as I can about topics#only to be accused of using gentrifying dogwhistles to appropriate a marginalised group of people ?????#for sharing photos of new zealand specific housetrucks and calling them 'kiwi culture'#I did not mean 'kiwi culture' as in 'invented by and owned by new zealanders'#I meant it in the same way that fish and chips are 'kiwi culture'. obviously we didn't invent either of those things. they just happen to b#a regular part of aotearoa life. RARHRHGHHH#fuck man I'm too worked up over this I never meant to be shitty or appropriate anything I just like housetrucks#I'm going to be a wreck tomorrow I'm too anxious to sleep#so sorry to anyone who bothered to read all of this#just needed. somewhere to put it
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daz4i · 2 years
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if i may complain for a bit about something that doesn't actually matter and can be easily avoided. god i hate fics that baby-fy chuuya
#yeah yeah i know just don't read them w/e. there's no tags to avoid these unfortunately 😐#it kinda feels like a fanon of fanon. it's so far removed from his canon self even if some core elements are there.#why write him like a 15 y/o even as an adult. and the thing is. even when he was 15 in canon he wasn't this childish. c'mon.#a lot of the most popular skk fics have him characterized like this and man I'm tired. look how they massacred my boy.#ok complaining session over. i feel like i sound kinda mean. sorry abt that.#it doesn't actually matter that much just a bit frustrating when it keeps happening when you're already a couple hundred words into a fic#edit: i lied I'm not done complaining i gotta turn this into a rant bc ppl misunderstanding my favorite character online is a crime.#childish was the wrong word for me to use ig it's more like. innocent.#girl. bestie. he has been part of criminal organizations quite literally since he remembers himself.#he is not some sweet uwu baby who's a bit of a tsundere or w/e. he's got genuine reasons to be angry yknow. he's been through shit#and he's not innocent? he's in the fucking mafia lol we literally see him kill like 20 people in 5 minutes at 15 y/o.#he's not naive either???? he may not be dazai levels of smart but he's still capable of figuring things out himself????#like he did figure out rimbaud's thing by himself. he's not stupid or slow. he wouldn't be a mafia executive otherwise.#and that's also the reason he can't be naive like... he is in constant danger after all#and idk watering down all this^ for aus is boring and turning him into practically an oc but it's even worse in canonverse#or literally any au where he suffers the same amount as he does in canon. bc then what's your excuse for watering him down.#it feels like forcing him into this very clear cut mold you see in every media when he is literally. not that.#no one in bsd is honestly that's part of its charm imo. they all subvert your expectations of their character archetypes#i think this is why it's making me so angry bc it doesn't feel like just misunderstanding the character but also the whole story. in a way.#am i going too far? perhaps. i dunno. i do feel less Dirty after letting out this frustration tho.#complaining session is now officially over okay. yes. sorry. i don't mean to offend anyone sorry if i sound mean at any point.
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timewontwait · 2 years
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this game is gonna inject so much muse back into me i can already tell
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running-in-the-dark · 7 months
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went to bed early and woke up before 8am today! pretty cool. except I woke up with a bad headache and eventually had a very long nap.
I'm just so damn tired! like, no matter how much or how well or when I sleep, I'm still tired all day. so it's just pointless trying to fix my sleep schedule (when I'll just be asleep most of the day anyway).
#and also.#my mother in law just very sternly told us to fold our clothes after washing them#for some reason she just. started washing our clothes when we got here. no one asked her to. she didn't ask us. just did it#and then acts like it's such a burden. yes and no one asked you to do it 🤔#anyway no I will not be folding my damn clothes because they are going right back in an ikea bag because there is nowhere else to put them#we have one tiny wardrobe in 'our' room and there's lots of things that have to go in there so that the cats don't eat/destroy them#and. I am so fucking tired all the time no folding my clothes (to put them right back in a bag) is not a priority right now#guess what? our clothes usually stay in a laundry basket until we wear them (bc I don't have the energy and my husband just doesn't care 🤷)#it's not an issue. we are adults. we don't wear fancy shit that would look awful and wrinkly. our t-shirts will be fine.#I don't know man. it's only been a week and I already feel like peeling off my skin because of how she is#genuinely I cannot handle being treated like this. I couldn't handle it when I was an actual child and I sure as fuck can't handle it now#I don't know why I thought this would be fine. why did I let him convince me that she'd be different this time.#I know it's no big deal! she's just so judgmental and mean about everything. like the most inconsequential shit#like - last week on the day my husband worked from home he took a few breaks. as he normally does. obviously.#and she kept telling him to go back to work??? what the hell man he's a fully grown adult who has been working for years and at this#particular job for over a year. HE knows when he can take a fucking break.#like. she's never joking. she never says something casually. it's always serious and judgmental and negative.#I feel like I'm suffocating#anyway. only 49 days left. I can do it. I can get through this (knowing that I won't have to see her/them more than a few times a year afte#we move)#(I feel like an ungrateful piece of shit bc it IS very kind and generous that they are letting us live here for free for two months. and I#am grateful! but it's just not good for me mentally. that's all I'm saying. the problem is me.)#personal
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
~
Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
~
Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
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evilminji · 4 months
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Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?
And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!
Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???
JUST SOME DUDE™!
Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?
On the SURFACE!
This place seems utopian!
No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!
Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!
Cause see?
There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?
Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)
Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.
Through the Zone.
Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.
They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?
And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!
If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.
No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.
Just? Imagine~☆
The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"
Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.
He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.
They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏
I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.
As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.
I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.
He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.
And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.
Either, Or.
I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.
There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!
@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation
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These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.
I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)
This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.
If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???
I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.
But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.
So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.
Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.
Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.
Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.
Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.
Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.
The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.
It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.
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bro-atz · 2 months
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"they're like ocean waves"
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in which: every time you see mingyu, you're hit with feelings of melancholy, nostalgia, and regret.
pair: non-idol!mingyu/author!afab!reader
word count: 7.7k
content: heavy angst, smut x 2!, slight hurt/comfort?, reader lives near the beach, reader is a loner, probably the worst communication you will ever see, bedroom sex, beach sex (they do it on a towel and under an umbrella no sand goes anywhere pls), romantic sex, oral sex, a pregnancy and a miscarriage, unprotected sex (PLS REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL!), completely consensual! and a happy ending i promise
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: i actually wrote this as a very self indulgent fluff/angst y e a r s ago (2017) and stumbled upon it the other day, so i decided to fix her up, expand on her as an adult (aka add nsfw scenes lol), and reintroduce her to the world... also thank you sososo much to @yunhoszn for helping me work some details through!
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You hated the ocean. You hated the beach. You hated the salty sea breeze that would hit your nose and last all day in your hair and on your skin. The worst part was that you hated the memories, and you hated the man that brought the memories.
His name was Kim Mingyu, and his name left a bad taste in your mouth. What was once sweet and rolled off your tongue like a knife through warm butter you now hesitated to utter and choked you like the salt in the ocean, in the sea. In complete honesty, the name itself was so foreign at that point, but his eyes, those eyes that promised her empty lies, his eyes were so darned familiar that you couldn't help but remember them.
You were usually cooped up inside the house frequently as you slaved away at your endless manuscripts that kept piling up but never saw the light of day, and you would force yourself to take breaks. Yet, the second you stepped foot outside, you froze. You were terrified that you were going to run into him because you genuinely wanted nothing to do with him at that point. So, you usually stayed at home, and you drowned in words and papers.
One day, though, you were forced to go outside. Although you hated the beach, you needed to head back to the beach just one last time to develop the setting for your story. You pulled yourself to the beach and stood with your toes buried in the sand and your arms crossed over your chest. There was a beach towel you had laid down on the ground and an umbrella driven into the sand that went over the towel, but you couldn't bring yourself to sit just yet. The warm ocean breeze swept through your hair as you gazed at the setting sun. Orange hues filled your vision as you thought back to the first time you met him, the first time you set foot on the beach.
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"Hey there. What's a pretty girl like you doing alone on a beach like this?"
You were sitting on a beach towel on the sand and enjoying the view one fine evening. The sky was painted with different warm colors, and it was truly beautiful. You were so enamored by the sky that you didn't even bother to look in the direction of the person who spoke to you. That, and you kind of wanted to be left alone because his pick up line was a little too sleazy for you.
"I'm enjoying the view," you answered simply.
"Mind if I join you?" the man asked.
You were so ready to tell him off, but he was saved by his devilish good looks. You looked to see him, and you were met with the view of the most breathtaking young man in the most breathtaking backdrop. His golden, sun-kissed skin glimmered in the setting sun, and his eyes sparkled like the ocean when the sun hit it just right. His hair was wet with ocean water and swept back, little beads of water dotting his neck, shoulders, and chest. He shot you the most marvelous smile, stunning you into complete silence. You barely managed to nod, the man sitting down on the beach towel right next to you.
Originally, you had your legs crossed and your back slightly hunched over, but you were suddenly so self-conscious in your two-piece swimsuit around this stunning man that sat next to you, so you hugged your knees to your chest, doing your best to cover up most of your body.
You couldn't help but glance to your side every so often to catch the side profile of the man, and he would glance back, causing you to look away abruptly. That was the extent of it that day. The two of you merely sat on the beach together and shared stolen glances, the sound of the ocean waves crashing filling the silence between the two of you.
What was crazy to you was that it became a recurring thing. You were at the beach every single day for an entire week partly because you actually needed to get into the right mood to work on your latest manuscript, and partly because you were hoping that you would run into the beautiful man; and you did. Every single day for an entire week, the man would meet you at the same spot around the same time and just enjoy the view of the setting sun with you before leaving once the sky got dark and the moon was starting to rise.
The two of you had yet to speak until one week later; you mustered up all of your courage and finally decided to interrupt the crashing waves to talk to him.
"I don't believe I've introduced myself," you stated as you turned to face him.
You stuck your hand out and told him your name, a slight look of shock crossing his face, only to be replaced by the friendliest smile you had ever seen. Your heart thudded wildly in your chest as you tried to figure out what took you aback the most: his gorgeous smile, his warm, inviting hand, or his eyes— his wonderful, sparkling eyes. He took your hand and held it lightly as he said, "Kim Mingyu."
That was all he said. He only told you his name that day.
As the suns kept setting, and as the days rolled by, you found yourself more and more enthralled with the ethereal being that kept appearing before you. Thankfully, you talked a little more day by day, and day by day, you learned more and more about Kim Mingyu. Not only had you learned more and more about Kim Mingyu, but you also got closer and closer to him as well.
First, your shoulders brushed. Next, you were bumping shoulders. Your fingers touched and laced with each other. Your head leaned onto his shoulder, his arm wrapped around your waist, and you gazed at each other fondly. You got closer to each other gradually, naturally, easily.
At the time, everything seemed so simple for you. You had gone to the beach to enjoy the orange sunset and get inspired, but you ended up enjoying Mingyu's sparkling, hopeful eyes more. You enjoyed the way he would talk to you about anything and everything while lightly flirting with you in between conversations. You liked how his eyes would completely light up when he talked about the things he was passionate about, how his smile would get wider as you showed interest in the things he liked, and how he was so completely focused on every single word you said when you told him about the things you liked, the stories you were working on, and even mundane things like how your day was going.
The day that made your heart beat so fast that you wanted it to stop beating so that you could finally breathe was the day he kissed you. You were talking animatedly about God knows what when you saw his slightly narrowed gaze and his subtle smile. 
"W-What? What is it?" you stuttered, suddenly startled by the way his hand moved from your waist up to your ribcage.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered as leaned in closer to you, his face mere centimeters from yours. "You always look so beautiful when you smile and laugh..."
Your heart skipped several beats for several reasons: the words leaving his mouth, his hand pulling you into him, and his nose brushing against yours. His lips were dangerously close to yours, but they didn't meet yours until you quickly moved forward and left a peck on his. He exhaled softly, a smile playing on his lips before he kissed you again. His hand moved from your body to the back of your head, his fingers running through the roots and massaging your head lightly.
At first, his kisses started tenderly, his soft lips just pressing against yours over and over again, but when you moved your hand to cup his cheek, he couldn't help but take it one step further (not that you were complaining). His lips sucked gently on your lower lip before taking it in between his teeth and tugging lightly, making you moan slightly. You moved your hands to his bare waist and gripped his hips as if it would help you keep your grip on reality, but your mind was slowly melting, and you were sucked into his affection to the point where you didn't even realize he had you pinned to the beach towel you had been sitting on.
The sun was still taking its sweet time descending into the ocean when you brought Mingyu back to your place. Mingyu was bathed in the golden light that seeped through the window in your bedroom as he knelt on the bed before you. He removed the white button-up he never had buttoned up, giving you a complete view of his muscles. You had seen him shirtless a countless number of times, but that didn't stop your heart from threatening to leap out of your chest.
Mingyu silently held his hands out for you to take, guiding you so that you were kneeling on the bed as well so that he could hold your waist with a firm but gentle grip. When his hand slipped behind your back and brought you closer to him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He kissed you passionately several times before brushing his nose against your jawline so he could leave kisses along the curve of your neck. You sighed sensually when you felt him trail his kisses along your shoulder, his fingers moving up to slip the strap of your pale sundress off your shoulder.
However, Mingyu's patience wore thin. He bunched up the fabric of your sundress and pulled it off you, leaving you in nothing but your panties— but you were quick to take those off yourself because you, too, were impatient. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in every square inch of your bare body. You were starting to feel self-conscious, but he didn't give you the chance to doubt yourself more. He pulled you flush against him and kissed you hungrily, his fingers dragging along the curve of your waist before he wrapped his arms around you and slowly laid you down on the bed.
Mingyu knelt between your legs. He trailed his kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, and to your breast. He licked your nipple before taking your breast into his mouth, both of his hands moving to massage your breasts. He looked up at you with lust filled eyes as he sucked painfully hard on your tits, your back arching as you let out a pleasure-filled whimper. It did not help when he switched breasts, making sure he gave both of them equal amounts of love.
"Ah—! Mingyu..." you sighed blissfully when he moved away from your breasts to suck on your clit. That sigh turned into a loud whimper when he fully committed to eating you out, his mouth slurping on your arousal. You cursed under your breath and ran your fingers through his hair when he slipped two of his fingers into your cunt.
Mingyu refused to let up. He ate you out as if he was a starved man, unable to get enough of your sweet taste. You could help but roll your hips in rhythm as you chased your high. What did it for you was him sitting up and fingering you hard, his fingers rubbing against your G-spot with enough force and speed to make you cum. Your cunt quivered as you came, a sweet, loud moan leaving your lips and echoing in your bedroom and Mingyu's ears.
Your chest heaved as you gasped and tried to regulate your breathing. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched Mingyu move back towards you. He brought the two fingers he had buried in your cunt to your lips. You looked up at him as you ran your tongue along his fingers before taking them into your mouth and sucking them. Mingyu bit his lower lip, a smirk threatening to cross his face as he watched you listen to his silent instructions so obediently.
"God..." he whispered when he took his fingers out of your mouth and brought his face down, his lips ghosting over yours. "God..."
He gave you a good taste of yourself when he kissed you, his tongue diving deep into your mouth. While you couldn't get enough of the way he kissed you with such intensity, you wanted more. You felt empty now that his fingers weren't inside you, and you needed him to fill you up again. You brought your knee up between his legs and rubbed against his insanely stiff crotch, the man breaking off the kiss immediately to inhale sharply. Looks like he couldn't wait much longer either.
You pushed yourself up and leaned on your elbows when Mingyu moved away from you completely. Hooking his thumb into the waistband of his shorts, he tugged them down slowly, his other hand pulling his erect cock out of his shorts in the process. You couldn't help but widen your eyes when you saw his length and girth, your heart thudding faster at the thought of having something so massive inside you.
Mingyu took off his shorts and dropped them off the side of the bed while stroking his cock. The bedsheets rustled as he moved so that he was right before you once again. You heard him chuckle lightly when you gulped nervously seeing his cock closer. It was twitching and raring to go, and while your body craved him, your mind was swirling with worry.
"I'll go slow, I promise," Mingyu whispered as he read your thoughts.
You felt your face heat up slightly— you didn't realize that you weren't being conspicuous with your feelings at all and were slightly embarrassed. You didn't have much time to sit in the embarrassment, though, because Mingyu started rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds. You felt it prod inside you a couple of times, but he had yet to fully enter.
The anticipation was driving you crazy. You flung your head back and arched your back while whining, your entire body craving him.
"M-Mingyu... Hurry," you whined quietly.
"What's the rush?" he asked somewhat cheekily as if he was trying to get a rise out of you, as if he was trying to get you to beg for it.
You whimpered and whined, the words refusing to formulate. You just wanted him. Plain and simple. You looked up at him with desperate eyes when he placed his hand next to your head, his face hovering above yours. A quick look of surprise crossed his face, making your heart skip a beat. He looked down and guided his cock to your entrance once more, preparing to enter you.
"All right, sweetheart," you shivered hearing his choice of nickname for you. "I'm going to start, okay?"
You nodded, and Mingyu started moving. His cock made its way inside you, spreading you wide open, filling your vision with fireworks. You choked on a gasp as his cock seemed to just keep going and going. When he bottomed out, you were absolutely certain he was going to hit your cervix with his size, making you extremely nervous but also excited as well.
Mingyu rolled his hips slowly at first, giving you a little more time to get used to his size. You reached for his shoulders and held onto them while he fucked you, the pads of your fingers pressing into his skin. The two of you were breathing shallowly, the mattress springs beginning to quietly squeak as he slowly sped up.
"You feel good?" he asked you in a low voice?
"So g-good," you murmured, your eyes fluttering as you let the pleasure begin to consume you.
"Can I— Shit— Move faster?"
"Mmhmm..."
Mingyu wasted no time. You felt like his cock was going to rip your insides out when he got faster and harder, the friction inside you just making everything more intense. You cried loudly as you felt his waist slapping against yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. Mingyu lowered his body further, his lips right next to your ear. You could hear him breathing and grunting erratically, his hot breath sending tingles through your body.
Suddenly, Mingyu sped up. The bedsprings squeaked loudly and the entire bed shifted with every thrust. You screamed, your nails digging into his skin as you felt your entire body swell with more and more pleasure. With one particularly strong thrust, Mingyu actually managed to ram into your cervix, immediately filling your vision with stars. You squeezed your eyes shut and cried as you came again.
The fluttering and clenching of your cunt was too much for the man to bear. You heard his breathing hitch and a groan rumble in his throat while his waist continued moving rapidly.
"Fuck! C-Cumming!" Mingyu grunted loudly.
He pulled out and stroked his cock several times before ropes of white shot out and landed your stomach. He continued to grunt and sigh as more cum spurt out of his cock, his hand slowing down as he released his entire load to decorate your skin.
The two of you were breathing hard. Your breathing slowed down, and your eyes could barely stay open as your body relaxed more and more into the mattress, the pleasure still lingering within you.
You ended up falling asleep just like that, and when you woke up, you saw that Mingyu had cleaned the two of you up but that you both were still nude, the only fabric covering your skin being the duvet on top of you. He was fast asleep and hugging you close to him as the two of you laid side by side, his hold on your waist only getting stronger when he felt you shift in his arms.
Mingyu's face was right before yours. You watched him breathe softly, peacefully, your heart fluttering as you observed his beautiful features. You wanted to reach out and run your finger along his sculpted face, but at the same time, you felt so at peace just seeing his relaxed, sleeping face. You settled for pressing your ear to his chest and listening to his beating heart as you drifted off to sleep again.
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You and Mingyu had spent a countless number of nights together after that, and every single time, he was so overwhelmingly generous and passionate with you that you couldn't help but fall for him— and you fell hard.
Yet, you didn't think to tell him about your feelings. Truthfully, you were too scared to. You didn't know how he felt about you, and you seriously couldn't tell sometimes, especially when you saw him talking to other people.
Sometimes, while you waited for Mingyu at the beach, you would spot him talking and laughing with a couple friends. One day, however, you saw him with another woman. Technically speaking, you and Mingyu never made any sort of commitment to each other, so he was free to talk to, flirt with, or sleep with anyone he wanted to, but you still couldn't help but feel your heart drop to your feet. He looked so happy with her, and every time she touched his arm in a flirty manner, he would accept it and reciprocate.
You were hurt. You thought you and Mingyu had something a little more special. You thought that he didn't treat all girls the same way he treated you, that he wasn't like every other man, that he wasn't actually a player. All of those thoughts completely shattered when you saw him with her. You were upset with him, but you were also upset with yourself for never saying anything to him, and based on the way he was interacting with that woman, you felt like you probably shouldn't say anything.
That was the last time you saw him... for a while. The day you saw him with the girl, you left, and he texted you asking you where you were, but you didn't respond. He didn't send a single message after that. You were left alone— well, actually, you weren't completely alone.
A couple of weeks later, you went to the doctor because you were unwell. You were throwing up all the time, and you were unable to focus or do anything properly. You thought it was a stomach flu, but it was a baby instead, and it was his baby; it had to be his baby because you hadn't been with another man ever since.
After finding out, you didn't really know what to do with the information. You debated telling Mingyu, but no matter how you thought about it, your mind kept drifting to him and the other woman. You didn't want to disrupt his life, but in the same breath, he deserved to know. That being said, seeing that his last text to you was weeks prior always stopped you from sending a message, and if you couldn't even send a text, where the hell were you going to call him?
You ended up living with your little secret kept close to your heart. You took care of yourself, and you were on top of things. You thought about what your life was going to look like after you gave birth, and when you looked around your desolate apartment, you thought about sharing your life with someone. You thought about it, but at the end of it all, you could only think of one person you actually wanted to share it with, and it made you spiral all over again.
One particular day, you felt completely off. You had horrible cramps, and you were so dizzy that you couldn't do anything but keep your head in the toilet and dry heave because you literally had nothing in your system but your body was going through it to the point where you were delirious. In fact, you were so delirious that you called Mingyu right before you passed out.
When you came to, you were in a hospital, and you were confused as hell. It was nighttime. Moonlight filled your room along with the beeping of the heart monitor. You pushed yourself up and looked to your side to see Mingyu fast asleep while kneeling at the edge of the hospital bed. Your heart skipped a beat seeing his perfectly chiseled face before your brain questioned why he was there in the first place.
Mingyu stirred when you tried to shift to a more comfortable position, and the second he blinked some of the sleep out of his eyes, he fully awoke and stood up quickly to stand right by your side.
"Hey," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"
"Okay, but, what's going on? Why am I—"
"Shh, just get some rest... You've been through a lot."
You were getting nervous with the way he was talking to you, raising more questions. There was no way in hell you were going to sleep without getting some answers.
"...Why am I here? And why are you here?"
Mingyu took a deep breath. He knew you weren't going to rest until you knew what was happening.
So, he told you everything. You called him right before you passed out, and he immediately picked up. When you didn't speak, he at first thought you butt dialed him or something, but your phone was right by your face, and he heard your shallow, shaky breaths. He, thankfully, remembered where your spare key was and immediately got to your apartment to see you on the ground in your bathroom. He called the paramedics, they brought you to the hospital, and after running through all of the tests, the doctor told him what happened.
"You... You were pregnant," Mingyu whispered.
"Yeah, I'm pregnant, but—"
"No," Mingyu cut you off. "You were pregnant."
White noise filled your ears. The words, with the infliction, sunk in, and you felt everything around you collapse. You felt like Mingyu hit you with a right hook when he said that, and you were close to knocking out.
Were.
How could that even happen?
The doctors explained it to you, but you weren't listening; you couldn't bring yourself to listen. Your head was muddled, every voice that spoke to you was muffled, and your heart was muzzled.
You were so lifeless throughout your stay at the hospital that Mingyu couldn't help but stay by your side. Granted, you thought was doing it out of pity, but it was mainly because he knew that if you were left alone, you would fall over again, and he didn't want that to happen to you ever no matter how big the distance between the two of you grew.
Even after discharge, Mingyu stayed with you. He kept reassuring you that if you wanted to cry, you could, and that he would be there for you, but you didn't have it in you to cry. You were mindless from the moment he told you, and you remained mindless as you tried to find normalcy in your life once more. You were so mindless, in fact, that you expected Mingyu to just up and leave after knowing you could feed yourself, but he didn't. He stayed with you for a while— until he found out the truth.
You and Mingyu were in the kitchen one evening. You were cleaning, and Mingyu, who originally entered the kitchen to rifle through the pantry, held the handle to the pantry door before sighing and facing you.
"Hey," Mingyu broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"
You nodded while mindlessly wiping down the kitchen countertop.
"Who was the father...?"
You froze. You knew he was going to ask that at some point, but you thought he would give you a little more than several days to prepare for it. You set the towel aside and looked at him. You wanted to tell him, but the words were stuck in the back of your throat.
Mingyu saw the look on your face and immediately looked away uncomfortably. He ran his hand over his face and took a heavy breath.
"...Tell me something," his voice came out rough, as if he was choking back a sob.
You waited for him to say something, but he just looked at you instead. You nodded and whispered, "Yeah?"
"In the time we haven't seen each other..." he started slowly. "Have you slept with anyone else?"
You shook your head. You wanted to confirm verbally, but there was no way you were going to— not when you felt your chest tighten up uncomfortably.
"So..."
Mingyu definitely choked on his words that time. He chewed on his lower lip nervously. He covered his mouth with his hand and sighed slowly, shakily. The room was heavy, and both of you knew exactly what this awkwardness meant, but you were waiting for the other one to say the words. Unable to take the tension any longer, you spoke.
"It was you..."
Mingyu pressed his lips together in a tight line. He took a step towards the kitchen island and grabbed the edge as if to steady himself. You watched his knuckles turn white the longer he gripped it. He looked down at the countertop before looking right at you, his eyes red and watery.
"Me?"
You were near tears. You blinked them away quickly while sniffling and nodding. You knew what was coming. You knew he was going to be upset, and you needed him to know why you did what you did, and there was no way that was going to happen if you got emotional.
"So, let me get this straight. You were pregnant, and I was the father?"
You nearly flinched when you heard his voice get louder.
"Yes," you confirmed before choosing your next words very carefully. "I was pregnant, and you were the person who got me pregnant."
You definitely flinched when Mingyu slammed his hands down on the countertop. He was shaking, and his face was twisted painfully as the realization finally completely hit him.
"You— You were pregnant— You were pregnant with my child?!" Mingyu yelled; he was in complete and utter disbelief to the point where he was tripping over his words. "Did— You— You didn't think to tell me?!"
"I didn't know how you were going to respond, Mingyu! We're not married, we're not engaged— I'm just some girl you knocked up, and I didn't want you to feel the need to marry me just because I was pregnant!"
"So, what, you were just going to have the kid without telling me?! You were going to let me go blissfully unaware that someone who shares half of my DNA is just walking around without even knowing who their biological father is?!"
"Does it even matter?!" you shrieked.
The two of you fell silent. The weight of the matter hit you like a ton of brick, and the room got more stuffy by the second. You ran your shaking fingers through your hair and exhaled slowly, your heart clenching as you thought about everything that led to that moment. You closed your eyes and massaged your temples as you did your best to hold your tears back.
"It doesn't even matter anymore," you sighed, your voice shaky as you spoke quietly.
You could tell Mingyu wanted to comfort you. His hand reached out hesitantly before falling at his side. You faced him and locked eyes with him. His eyes weren't sparkling the way they used to whenever he saw you. They were bleak, sorrowful, resentful. You knew he resented you for not telling him about your unplanned pregnancy and that he found out because of the hospital.
"You know," Mingyu started, his voice choked back by a sob. "You could at least..."
He shook his head. He wasn't going to say it, and as much as you wanted to demand that he say it, you didn't need him to.
You could at least apologize for not telling me in the first place.
And you did want to apologize, but the words got stuck in the back of your throat because you were just as hurt by him as he was by you. Plus, he wasn't the one who had to bear the weight of losing a child— you were.
Neither of you uttered a word after that. Mingyu wordlessly left your apartment, and you remained in your kitchen this time actually completely alone.
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Years later, you still carried the resentment against him. You couldn't figure out why either. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to have moved on with his life and that you were still stuck in the past. Maybe it was because he never tried to find you to comfort you. Maybe it was because you wish he fought for you to stay with him.
You stared aimlessly at the sunset before you, your arms crossed over your chest as the yellow and orange hues grayed out in your glazed view. The waves were calmly patting the large rocks, and the wind was sweeping by you warmly, but you felt anxious and cold. You ran your shaking fingers through your hair and took a shuddering breath as you tried your best to appreciate the sky's canvas through your teary eyes.
"Hey there..." you heard a familiar voice over the sound of the ocean waves.
A tear immediately slipped out of your eye. You refused to turn, you refused to look— you didn't need to see who it was.
"What're you doing alone on a beach like this?" he continued.
Your heart clenched. It was like the first time the two of you met all over again, but you were anything but happy. You shook your head and looked away. Honestly, you wanted to run away, but your feet refused to carry you, your toes sinking deeper into the soft sand.
"Come on... Please look at me..."
The catch his throat stabbed at your heart several times. You bit your lower lip and tried your best to keep it together as you turned to look at him, but all of that effort was in vain.
It was the first time in years that you saw him, and dare you say it, he looked even more stunning as a slightly older man. His muscles had gotten more refined, and his facial features had gotten sharper. The biggest change, however, was his eyes. They weren't sparkling at all anymore, but there was something else there— something you couldn't quite place. It was unfamiliar, but in the same breath, recognizable.
"Mingyu..." you breathed out unintentionally, your voice trembling. "What are you doing here?
He took a single step towards you. You were still frozen in place, so he kept approaching despite you wanting him to stay as far away from you as possible.
"I... I miss you... And I want to—" Mingyu stopped himself the second he saw you shaking your head.
"Please don't, Mingyu," you whispered.
A warm ocean breeze swept past your ankles and through your hair as silence filled the space between you. You turned away from him and looked at the ocean again, Mingyu continuing to stare at you. You wiped the lingering tears by your eyes away before crossing your arms over your chest again. Even after everything, you still refused to cry, especially in front of him. Yet, when Mingyu approached you tentatively and carefully wrapped his arms around you, you broke. You let him hug you, and all of the tears you had been holding back not just then but over the last several years came pouring out.
You wanted to say something, but you couldn't. You were too busy wailing into his chest, your hands grabbing at the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer to you. Mingyu kept one secure hand around your waist while the other petted your head in a soothing manner.
"It's okay... Cry it all out..." Mingyu murmured, making you cry even more.
The two of you had slowly sunk down to the ground and sat on the towel under the umbrella which you had brought to the beach to sit on earlier. Mingyu refused to let you go even as your sobs died down. He rubbed your back, the feeling of his large hand on your back and the sounds from the ocean easing your pain and finally calming you down.
You sat in silence after you cried it all out. Mingyu's hold on you loosened slightly so that you could lean back and look at him, but he still didn't let go of you— there was no way in hell he was going to let go of you now.
"How are you feeling?" Mingyu asked in a hushed voice.
"A little better..." you couldn't help but admit— the lack of bottled up emotions in your chest did make it easier for you to breathe.
You looked up at him. This time, when you gazed into his eyes, you were able to figure out exactly what it was in his eyes: hope. You felt the emotion swell up in your chest again, but instead of crying, you took a deep breath and relaxed a little more in his arms.
"Why did you..." you sighed as you trailed off, trying to figure out exactly how you wanted to say this. "You're here because...?"
"Because I miss you," Mingyu said, reiterating what he was saying earlier. "I miss you so much..."
"...Why did you come here, then? How'd you know you'd find me here...?"
"I didn't, actually. I was thinking about going to your apartment, but I didn't know if you still lived there, and when I turned around to go home... I saw you standing here..."
"I actually still live at the same place," you couldn't help but chuckle dryly. "You'd think I would have moved after all this time... But I couldn't bring myself to do it..."
"Why is that?"
"Because... Even after everything... I never wanted to— I could never get over you... I really missed you too, Mingyu..."
Mingyu cupped your face after you stopped talking. He tilted your head up, and you saw his lower lip quiver. He took a breath as if he was about to say something, but he immediately closed his mouth. He didn't need to say it— you knew what he wanted to say.
"Then why did we wait so long to find each other again?"
You knew what kept you from reaching out, but you weren't sure how Mingyu was going to respond, nor were you sure you wanted to know the answer. However, enough was enough, and you needed answers.
"Can I ask you something?" you asked, your voice hushed.
"Yeah, of course," he nodded. "You can ask me anything."
You swallowed nervously. You were still unsure of how to broach the subject, so you just decided to be candid and let your ears get as hot as they wanted as embarrassment took control of your brain.
"What about that other girl?"
"What other girl?" Mingyu asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Back then... You were talking and laughing with another girl..."
Mingyu just looked even more confused. Taking a deep breath, you finally laid it all out.
"We didn't... We didn't really talk about what our relationship was back then... So when I saw you with another girl, I assumed it was because you had your options open," you explained slowly. "And since we weren't officially dating or together or anything, I didn't want to ask you about it because you were free to see other people..."
Your gaze slowly lowered as you explained your train of thought, so when you finished, you looked up again to see a wide array of emotions painted on Mingyu's face. He closed his eyes and sat silently for a moment, and you waited for him to gather his own thoughts before responding. Finally, he reopened his eyes, and for the first time in a while, you saw that sparkle you were hopelessly infatuated with return to his eyes.
"Sweetheart, there's never been anyone else," Mingyu said softly as he reached for and held your hand. "I've only ever had eyes for you, and I have not stopped thinking about you..."
You felt your eyes well up with tears. There were so many thoughts swirling around your head, most of them being regret that you didn't talk this through with Mingyu in the beginning; but he made all of the negative thoughts leave your mind the second he cupped your face and met your gaze.
"I only want to be with you."
A tear slipped out of your eye, the man immediately brushing it away. You pushed yourself into his arms and hugged him tightly while sobbing, Mingyu immediately hugging back and petting your head to soothe you. He whispered reassuring words to you while resting his chin on the top of your head, and he let you cry it all out. His white shirt soaked up all of your tears as you buried your face in his chest.
"I'm sorry, Mingyu... I'm so sorry..."
"It's okay... Don't think about it now," he said softly. "Let's not dwell on the past... Let's focus on now..."
You shook your head, prompting him to counter your apology.
"If anything, I'm sorry for leaving you like that," he whispered. "I hated that I wasn't there for you when you needed the support... I should've been there for you."
You sniffled and moved your head back. You opened your mouth to say something, but the words were stuck in the back of your throat, choked back by a sob.
"But I'm here for you now, and I promise I'm always going to be here for you. Always."
With that, Mingyu pressed his lips against yours tenderly, your heart swelling with a multitude of emotions. You kissed him back softly, slowly, conveying all of your unspoken feelings to him.
The sun was long gone by that point, and the stars were out as you and Mingyu found yourselves entangled with each other. Mingyu's hands roamed all of your body. The warmth of his touch lingered on every spot of skin his fingers brushed as he took in every last bit of you. His kisses started sweet but slowly got more hungry and desperate as every single cell of his body craved you— after all, it had been years.
If the two of you hadn't been hidden to the world under an umbrella and behind a strip of large rocks, you wouldn't have been okay with Mingyu taking things further with you. He slid your dress up as he trailed kisses from your ankle up your leg and to your knee. Your dress rested on your stomach, and he turned you to the side before lying down alongside you, his hand bringing your thigh up and over his legs. He placed his hand under your head as a makeshift pillow, and you immediately nuzzled your face into his hand, making his breathing hitch slightly.
The two of you were silent, and you let the sound of the waves lapping fill the void the more intimate you got. Mingyu pulled his cock out of his shorts and started to rub it between your legs, your body trembling with want, desire, and a little fear. Since it had been so long, you forgot how big he was, so when he pushed your panties to the side before slipping his cock inside you, you immediately moaned loudly. Mingyu cut off your moan with a kiss, his tongue keeping yours occupied as he bottomed out.
You moaned into Mingyu's mouth as he began to move, his waist softly slapping against yours. You felt like your cunt was going to tear apart with his size, and as much as it hurt, it also felt so good that you desperately needed him to keep going.
"You doing okay, sweetheart?" he moved his lips to your ear and asked, his voice low and raspy.
You hummed and nodded, the pleasure starting to overwhelm you. The pleasure only continued to build when he started bucking his hips upwards rashly, your whole body lurching. You cried softly and pushed yourself closer to him. You were so close, but you needed just a little bit more.
Mingyu's hand slipped under your dress, his large hand palming your breast. You sighed and moaned the stronger his grip on you got and the more rash his thrusts got. Finally, he thrust into you with enough force that his cock hit your cervix multiple times, the pleasure surging through you like anything. You buried your face into the nook of his neck and groaned as quietly as you could as your orgasm washed over you. Your cunt clenched, and your toes curled. You had been holding onto Mingyu's forearms, and when you came, you dug your nails into them, leaving deep crescents in his arms.
"Fu-uck," Mingyu groaned when he felt you tighten around him.
You truly thought that Mingyu was close when you heard him curse, his sexy, rumbling voice making you tingle with excitement again. However, he apparently was far from done. He moved his hand from your head to your ass, and cupping the underside of your ass, he turned you so that you were on top of him. He pulled you down so that your chest was pressed against his before moving his hands back to your ass. He guided you as your ass bounced on his hips, the new angle making pleasure surge through you once more and your eyes fill with tears.
"I'm— Hnngh— I'm gonna cum inside, okay, sweetheart?" Mingyu whispered, his breathing getting shallower by the second.
Your heart couldn't help but thud wildly against your chest. You whispered, "Please, Mingyu. I'm all yours... I'll always be yours...."
Mingyu's eyes widened slightly before a gentle smile appeared on his face. He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of your head and brought you down to kiss you passionately. When the kiss ended, he let you go to turn you to your side. He buried his face into the nook of your neck and sighed deeply before fucking you as quickly as he could.
Right before he came, a groan rumbled in the back of his throat. He moved his head to your shoulder, his canines digging into your skin as he bit your shoulder lightly. You felt his hot cum fill you up and his dick continue to throb  and spasm as he moved a little more to get the rest of his load out. The two of you sighed softly, blissfully, peacefully as you fully relaxed.
The stars were out as you laid in Mingyu's arms, your eyes closed, your breathing peaceful. The sound of the soft ocean waves rushing onto the sand made you stir. Your eyes fluttered open to see Mingyu staring at the lonely sky above you. You moved away from his chest slightly to get a better look at him, the man immediately shifting his gaze to you. He smiled as you blinked at him. His eyes were sparkling once again, and dare you say it, they sparkled brighter than the stars in the sky. You felt tears well up in your eyes again, and Mingyu wiped them away before they could stain your cheeks. Hushing you softly, he hugged you gently and held you close.
You still hated the ocean. You still hated the beach. You still hated the salty sea breeze that would hit your nose and last all day long in your hair and on your skin, but you welcomed the memories. You welcomed the memories, and you once again loved the man that brought the memories.
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theminecraftbee · 3 months
Text
the case of docm77 v zombiecleo: a very incomplete summary of events
i, of course, strongly recommend going to doc's video (or bdubs, cleo, joe, or skizz's, once they exist) and watching the whole thing for yourself i could NOT stop laughing. but for those of you who want a vague summary of some stuff that happens in the courtroom:
bdubs is insisting on being called "your highness" as opposed to "your honor".
we START with bdubs explaining he has set up a dramatic five-strike system; if either side gets five strikes (things that upset bdubs lol) he will "uh, not give them the death penalty, but--"
doc immediately tries to use this to take advantage of the system and get cleo strikes.
he instead accidentally immediately murders his own counsel.
it has been like One Minute.
"just in case anyone dies, there's a jury deliberation room under construction, there's a bed in there"
bdubs is paying everyone a diamond block for showing up if they listen to his judgement. help.
"thrust his sword into said swine" so skizz's opening speech is GREAT.
"wow, that was really good. but the camera is over here, so if you could do that again and look into the camera for me--"
"defense, first off, how do you plead?" (doc, grasping for his vague knowledge of american legal dramas) "i plead the fifth. i plead the fifth. uh. right?"
joe, in his opening speech: "this is esteemed around the world as a place where two adults who act like children can come to have their differences settled by you in the most entertaining manner."
HELP. "cleo is bringing to the court not an affair between two adults with an unsettled matter, but an adult and a large baby."
HELP IS JOE'S DEFENSE THAT DOC IS A LARGE BABY AND THEREFORE CAN'T BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR HIS ACTIONS.
joe: "you know, cleo has a lot of communication problems." bdubs, with great feeling: "yikes."
cleo, under her breath: "i'm gonna kill him."
"just a minute i'm setting up my lawyer", ren says, carrying the armor stand he had in the stands with him to the bench and putting false's head on it,
ren: "i cannot recall." bdubs: "YOU CAN'T RECALL WHAT HAPPENED?" ren: "i cannot recall if i cannot recall."
why is skizz doing a foghorn leghorn accent now,
skizz, about doc: "this is proof this man likes to intimidate, that he gets off on it." no one comments on this phrasing.
sorry ren making an armor stand falsesymmetry as his lawyer and companion in the stands is so funny.
"this is more evidence cleo is a poor communicator. she can't control her man--"
joe is very clearly just trying to make everyone in the room mad and it's really funny.
HELP. BDUBS BUILT A HEADS AND TAILS MACHINE TO DECIDE IF THEY'RE GOING TO ALLOW OBJECTIONS.
anyway it rolls tails so it overrules skizz's objection.
skizz's accent and vocabulary just keeps getting more and more exaggerated i think he's going for approximately benoit blanc,
beef: "he forcefully approached us and said he's the guy who wants all the wood." cleo and doc, snorting and giggling at this as one,
i feel like i should note that bdubs has a fireworks crossbow that he's calling his "whip" and hitting people with when they do something he considers wrong.
this leads me to wonder if bdubs thinks whipping is normal in a courtroom...?
i think its really funny that skizz is actively doing like, correct types and moments to do an objection, and it almost sounds like good lawyering, and then IMMEDIATELY bdubs goes "it's time to HEADS AND TAILS!!!" and breaks that illusion completely.
"well, it's heads, objection sustained, strike that from the record." joe: "well then i guess you'll never know what my point was." beat of silence. bdubs: "never mind, let's just add a strike, and you can say it,"
"i don't know how the esophagus entered this situation at all?" "let's pray it didn't. geez." "i was not thinking of doc's esophagus when i built the giant fish for his hourglass." <- this only barely makes more sense in context,
"no further questions your honor." "seriously???"
every time joe calls doc either a baby or a manchild is SO FUNNY. why is this his argument. it's SO FUNNY.
"but he has not proven mens rhea, which you your highness are very familiar with but for the viewers at home is not a gendered form of diarrhea--"
cleo, to doc: "doc are you sure you want to win this one?" doc, in clear and obvious distress: "i'm not sure of anything anymore man i just, i don't know,"
bdubs then interrupts to do the sponsored segment of court.
"the tall claims court is brought to you by!" bdubs puts a disc in. 13 starts playing. "shoot that's the spooky record. that's the worst one." he continues with his bamboo shop sponsored segment spiel anyway, with 13 continuing to play,
"i'm not going to ask for money, i'm just asking for a simple injunction against doc. he won't be allowed to use diamonds for redstone anymore." "WHAT??? THERE'S LIMITS TO THIS, OKAY????" "calm down doc, we're not gonna--" "WHAT NO WHAT CALM DOWN???"
"cleo i have to say that's way better than anything skizz said. skizz was talking and all i heard was bla bla bla bla bla but that was real heartfelt. if you're thinking about paying him, maybe don't."
doc: "i want to make peace and love that's all i care about i'm just a humble boutiquer"
"i felt like as her friend i needed to teach her what it feels like to lose something" i love how deranged that is doc keep going
"but it happened and i think i'm insane, right," doc says, then nods at joe.
"yeah this is really good" cleo responds, perfectly happy with the idea of doc declaring himself insane for no good reason,
cleo: "doc is just completely unhinged when people mess with his redstone, and i feel like my punishment would take away that emotional bond."
joe: "objection your honor, my client is unhinged in every context."
i like how this is "make fun of doc" day.
bdubs: "i'm going to deliberate quickly then i'll come back with my judgement." (turns around for like five seconds.) "and i'm back!"
HELP DOC HAS BEEN BANISHED TO A SINGLE BLOCK IN THE SKY WITH A CHEST ON IT FOR TWO WEEKS
THREE IF HE TOUCHES THE GROUND
AIR JAIL...........
bdubs adjourns court. doc, immediately: "WHAT THE HELL JOE??" "i did my best, man :/"
"DO YOU KNOW THE VEINS ON MY NECK ARE ABOUT TO EXPLODE????"
jevin in the background of doc losing his shit just kinda murdering skizzleman for fun,
doc's main objection to the sky island is "BUT I HAVE THINGS TO DO :(((((("
doc ends the video standing here:
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in conclusion: yeah this seems like a very fair trial with no ridiculous elements at all. very serious and befitting the sanctity of court. yes. you should watch it for a very serious hermitcraft experience,
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felixknow · 3 months
Text
Hannie's 🦪 fixation
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Part two of Hannie's 🍒 fixation
Part three -- fake text edition
Han/f!reader, friends who...play...together, Hannie begging reader, reader very soft-spoken | ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts
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“What?!”
“Please?” he asks with those big, sweet eyes boring into yours. “God, I love pussy so much. I'll make you cum, I swear! I don't stop until my girl is satisfied!”
“But, I…”
“You don't have to do anything for me, I swear. I'll jerk it while eating your pussy and it'll be enough for me. Fuck, I'm so hard, Y/N,” he whines, grinding his crotch against yours.
You.
Are.
Throbbing.
But your brain is such a mess you can barely answer him beyond the soft whimpers that leave your mouth as he rocks against you. Here he is on top of you saying such filthy things like he's casually offering to scratch your back for you, and you can't get the knot in your throat to go down no matter how many times you swallow.
“Pleeeeeease?” he asks again, laying down and resting his chin on your chest. He fully pouts, giving you his best, sweetest puppy dog eyes. And it works.
“Yes,” you sigh out, nodding. “You can… do that.”
Han smirks, sitting up so he's hovering over your face.
“Say it,” he says with a mischievous grin. “Say what I’m gonna do.”
If your face wasn't already burning with a vicious blush, it'd surely get redder as you sheepishly say “Eat me out while jerking yourself off.”
He scrambles to throw your blankets to the side and wastes not a single second looking over your stomach as he moves lower, pulling your sleep shorts and underwear off in one harsh tug.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he sighs happily, once against nestling between your legs. He uses two fingers to hold your lips apart and goes in like a man starved, lapping at your cunt with his dripping wet tongue.
Holy shit, you think. Was he drooling for it or what?
Your hips buck up against his face instinctually when he flicks his tongue back and forth rapidly against your clit. He chuckles at your body's reaction and stops, going back to licking long, fat stripes up and down, gathering your taste and feeling as much of you as he can.
When he feels that you've adjusted to the feeling based on the fact that your hips aren't bucking anymore, he goes back to your clit and sucks it into his mouth for just a second, just to get that squeak and jump reaction from you that he knew he'd get.
“Oh, fuck-- Hannie--” you moan, trying to look down at him. He's already watching you. When he lifts his head just slightly as he squirms and gets his hand down into his pants, you can tell he's smiling.
“You taste so good,” he mumbles, burying his face once again. He slurps the mixture of your wetness and his spit and swallows it down greedily. One of his fingers starts lightly tracing around your hole as his tongue works lazy circles around your clit, giving extra pressure as he passes over its hood.
“Oh, fuck,” you moan, reaching down to push his hair back from his face. “You're-- ahh-- you're really good at this.”
He hums in acknowledgement and flutters his eyes closed, losing himself completely in the swirl of his tongue and the flick of his hand working over his cock, which you can't see but you can start to hear the sounds of it as his fist gets damp from his pre-cum.
You play with his hair, lightly tugging and scratching his scalp as his pace increases, giving him non-verbal signals that he’s doing good. 
“Hannie, I can’t,” you moan, arching your back and trying to roll your hips up into his mouth. “I’m getting close.”
He suckles on your clit, ignoring when you push on his head and get louder and louder, insisting that you’re getting too sensitive. One of his fingers slips inside of you and he curls the tip of it, tapping rapidly against the inside of your pussy on the back of your clit, quickly sending you over the edge.
You pull his hair so tightly while moaning his name and grinding up against his tongue. You swear you hear him moan into your pussy between his tongue flicks and slurps.
He doesn’t stop his suckling until your hands fall from his hair, almost as if the pleasure has completely overcome you and made you give up on holding yourself up.
With a few more long licks to collect your taste, Han removes his mouth from your pussy. The entire bottom half of his face is damp and shiny with your slick, but the real star of the show is the hazy look in his eyes and the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he reaches his orgasm too.
He whines loudly-- whimpering, even-- while his hand furiously pumps in his sweats.
I wish I could see it, you think through your clouded sex-high. I bet it’s pretty like he is.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, chest rapidly rising and falling.
This is it. This is it.
“Y/Nnnnnn,” he whines, turning his face into your inner thigh. “Ahhhh, fuck! Y/N! Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, Y/nnnnnnnn…”
“Holy shit,” you sigh out, watching as his hand stills and his whole body goes slack as he tries to catch his breath.
You’ll let him do whatever he wants to you if you get to hear him say your name like that again.
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masterlist
Taglist:
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joelmillerisapunk · 4 months
Text
Tastes like strawberries
Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader
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Masterlist
Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)
Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.
Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults
Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3
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The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.
With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.
The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.
11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.
Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.
8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.
The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words. 
Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.
You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.
You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"
He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."
You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”
Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”
His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."
He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."
The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.
"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises." 
As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim. 
As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.
 You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.
He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.
You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.
A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.
The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter. 
The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.
"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."
The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.
Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."
Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."
You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.
The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.
"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.” 
As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.
"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”
“Joel, I dont know what to say.” 
“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.” 
As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.
Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.
You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.
"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.
You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.
Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”
You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.
Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”
You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.
Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you. 
His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.
"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."
The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.
Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”
He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.
Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.
His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.
"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.
You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.
"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.
Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze. 
"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—" 
He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”
With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.
"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.
Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.
Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.
"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.
Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.
Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."
Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you.  Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.
As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.
You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release.  As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.
He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,”  he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office. 
You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.
He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.
"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”
His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.
Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."
His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him. 
Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.
"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.
Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.
"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.
"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."
You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.
"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."
His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.
"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."
You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.
Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."
He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.
Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.
"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."
His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.
"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."
His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.
Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.
"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 
You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.
Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."
He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."
You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.
Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.
You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.
True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."
"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."
You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.
"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"
You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.
 As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.
You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."
He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."
With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.
When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."
You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk. 
Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.” 
As you step out of the car, the cool  air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.
"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.
The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."
Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."
With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.
As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.
You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.
1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again." 
The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.
Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.
1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller.  you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.
His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness. 
1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.
You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.
1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.
1:12PM Yes sir.
1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.
Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through 
1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.
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mothandpidgeon · 4 months
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Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)
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Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!
pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader
rating: E 18+MDNI
summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.
contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.
wc: 9k
a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.
Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young
You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you. 
You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller. 
Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely. 
Her words still ring in your ears. 
“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”
“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life. 
“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said. 
You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.
So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you. 
But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart. 
“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder. 
“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says. 
“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask. 
She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room. 
“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”
It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid. 
You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you. 
You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better. 
It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now. 
“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say. 
That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture. 
“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say. 
Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse. 
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”
“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”
You both laugh. 
“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles. 
You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades. 
“I’m sorry,” you tell her. 
“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”
Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.
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You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there. 
At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time. 
Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face. 
“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy. 
She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen. 
Dread settles in the pit of your stomach. 
“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself. 
A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze. 
“Mercy?” Sarah asks. 
You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass. 
Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air. 
“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.  
“Where’s your dad?” you ask her. 
You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around. 
“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.” 
Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night. 
The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller. 
Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away. 
You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.  
“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 
You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands. 
What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor. 
You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.
“Help me,” he rasps. 
He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something. 
But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies. 
As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral. 
Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break. 
Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster. 
When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk. 
Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground. 
With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence. 
This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you. 
“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged. 
Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete. 
For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her. 
“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.
There’s a thud and then quiet. 
You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill. 
Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway. 
Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers. 
“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says. 
“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her. 
“But she’s hurt!”
She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle. 
Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck. 
“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”
You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away. 
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You wait for a long time. 
As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now. 
You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes. 
Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine. 
For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare. 
No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you. 
He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family. 
But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope. 
The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning. 
You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday. 
You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt. 
They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you. 
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He left you to die but you just go on living.  
It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night. 
You’re on your own. 
A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.
At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone. 
On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her. 
You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.
Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead. 
When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head. 
It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk. 
You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north. 
You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival. 
By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you. 
They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal. 
It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.  
Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven. 
You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached. 
Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall. 
It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table. 
You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home. 
Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you. 
He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright. 
“Uncle Tommy?” you manage. 
“That really you?” he asks. 
Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.  
You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope. 
“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”
He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife? 
“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner. 
And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller. 
He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.
It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up. 
He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become. 
“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up. 
He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel. 
You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival. 
“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago. 
You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath. 
“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall. 
There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened. 
At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. 
You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out. 
“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes. 
“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says. 
It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you. 
But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious. 
“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself. 
“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder. 
“You should’ve saved her,” you bark. 
Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back. 
“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say. 
You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing. 
You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall. 
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The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel. 
Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today. 
It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine. 
“You okay?” Ellie asks. 
She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much. 
He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall. 
“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers. 
It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken. 
“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says. 
She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out. 
Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache. 
Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted. 
He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you. 
The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded. 
So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves. 
“Want some company?” you ask. 
He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in. 
Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him. 
“Surprised you remember,” he says. 
“My best friend’s birthday?”
He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”
“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.” 
You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living. 
You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything. 
You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck. 
“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down. 
“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.” 
“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him. 
“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says. 
He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed. 
“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.
“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.
Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.
“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”
“Shit,” Joel says. 
“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”
“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”
You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear. 
“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him. 
A thick knot forms in his throat. 
There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment. 
He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch. 
The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end. 
“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”
You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out. 
It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky. 
The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen. 
“How’d…”
“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”
You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well. 
“You sure?” he asks. 
You nod. “I know where to find it.”
He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect. 
“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask. 
“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains. 
You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates. 
You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since. 
“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes. 
He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile. 
“How’s she look?” you ask. 
He can’t help but chuckle. He nods. 
You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair. 
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You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.
Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?
The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library. 
Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor. 
He’s still Mr. Miller, after all. 
Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”. 
He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved. 
Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.
“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly. 
You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.  
You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”
“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink. 
He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy. 
“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze. 
He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing. 
You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.  
You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet. 
You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago. 
It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek. 
“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.
“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours. 
It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it. 
“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say. 
He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went. 
You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night. 
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That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.
He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.   
He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning. 
And then you kissed him. 
Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing. 
You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone. 
The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you. 
That’s when he heard it. 
It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong. 
She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you. 
He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again. 
If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself. 
He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you. 
Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you. 
“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon. 
Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth. 
“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table. 
“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.  
“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”
“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs. 
“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says. 
“Dentment is not a word,” you reply. 
“Neither is thoard,” Joel says. 
“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.
This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life. 
But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.  
When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.   
The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there. 
Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips. 
He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open. 
“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,” he whispers. 
“Stay,” you murmur. 
He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back. 
But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?  
He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress. 
Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well. 
When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further. 
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You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could. 
It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.  
After a while, though, it happens. 
Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them. 
He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light. 
You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment. 
The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him. 
You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper. 
You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up. 
It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathes. 
You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever. 
You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want. 
You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul. 
When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass. 
You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him. 
Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him. 
Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. 
Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply. 
You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this. 
You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories. 
Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.
Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before. 
But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.
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You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back. 
It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.  
Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?” 
You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft. 
“Pretty,” he says almost to himself. 
He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all. 
Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart. 
You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection. 
Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years. 
In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you. 
Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.
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DPxDC prompt. Fae!Danny x Jason. Dead on main. Death of a Fairy Tale. or
"Oh no! This tricky hooman stole my heart! What should I do?" *becomes a leader of his court and, just in case, overthrows the tyrant Pariah Dark in order to allow marriages with representatives of other races and live happily ever after with Jay*.
~~~~~
 “You're not allowed to be here. This is not your territory.”
Jason barely had time to catch his breath after escaping from the hot dog vendor when someone noticed him hiding in the bushes.
There were no rides for children or food vans in this park, so Todd didn't understand why anyone would cling to this territory but the guy looked at him with obvious concern. And well, after the morning's adventures, Jay didn't have any energy for another conflict at all. This kid looked pale and thin, so it didn't look like fighting with him would get him anything.
“Calm down, I'm just passing by. What's your problem, dude?”
“I live somewhere ne...here.”
Jason rolled his eyes. It's clear that the guy lived nearby, but it's unlikely that he had a house. The lack of a T-shirt and shoes hinted that in front of him was also a street rat who most likely had not yet learned how to defend his belongings. Poor guy. But this is definitely not Jason's business.
However, did he really spend the night outside in the open air? Sleeping on the bench was a last choice even for Jason. This might be acceptable options in some quiet provincial town, not in Gotham.
“I mean, what are you doing outside?”
Young Phantom checks his glamour, but finds no flaws in it. This man in front of him must be very knowledgeable and experienced, despite his young age, since he immediately recognized him as not a human being. For Danny, who lived with other fairies in Fairyland all his childhood and came to this dimension for the first time, the outside always meant the world of human. Fae shocked and upset that he was discovered so quickly. Haven't people almost forgotten about their existence? The elders would swear a lot if they found out that he had failed. The boy carefully orders the vine and clover to cover the circle of mushrooms, hiding the front door from the human. He was the only one of the entire brood entrusted by Undergrowth to start a practice in a city where there are almost no plants and sunlight, and faeling did not want to let down the mentor who took him under his wing at all.
The old Fairies claim that people are mean and narrow-minded, but Danny himself is intrigued by these creatures and therefore hopes that he will be able to come to an agreement with the boy and to continue his research without obstacles. Danny intends to take the exam for the right to be called an adult fae this decade, which means he has no right to make mistakes. But still, forcing a guy to dance until he drops dead from exhaustion or make him wander along the paths of this small green area without being able to find a way out, as he was taught to get rid of pests at home, seemed too cruel. This boy, just like him, is still a cub and he is here by accident, not to encroach on their possessions. They need not quarrel.
“Don't banish me. I'm just trying to learn.”
“To do what?”
“To steal.” Danny blushes, realizing that such honesty was unnecessary. Stupid, stupid...People know that faeries can take their names, thereby gaining power over them. Now this cub will definitely decide that he has come to cause harm and he will not be able to learn anything useful and interesting. Phantom quickly makes excuses. “Nothing important! I only borrowed trinkets and fruits.”
“You're new to this, aren't you?”
“Is it that noticeable?”
“Pretty noticeable, yes.”
The boy looked at him almost pityingly. And the Phantom didn't like it.
That's how the spirits and other fairies used to look at him when they found out he was only halfa. Because of this fact, his abilities were belittled and not taken seriously too often. What's wrong with that? He's dead just like everyone else, even if not completely.
And now he's screwed up, not even because of his nature, but because of his sluggishness. It was especially unpleasant, as it was deserved. He should have spent his time more productively, but the flowers bred with the help of humans were so interesting and talked about their longing for the sun with such sadness that fae did not dare to interrupt them.
Jason finished both of the stolen hot dogs and leaved the park. The guy still follow him and stares intently, almost without blinking.
“Stop it. What do you want?”
“I study. You seem experienced. “
“People don't really like being stared at like this, in case you didn't know. Back off.”
“Really?”
Jason was ready to be outraged that the kid thought he was an idiot but the tramp from the park looked really puzzled. It seems that if he ever had parents, they didn't care about the boy, since they didn't explain to him that atypical behavior could add him problems. The boy is lucky that Jay is an asshole only when absolutely necessary.
“You're weird. Try to keep your mouth shut near others.”
“Okay.”
Jason took a few minutes to think and sighed. Todd could not leave this strange child alone, because damn conscience would not allow it. He can't survive alone. He will either wander after some other person and become a victim of trafficking or he will be at the beck and call of some assholes in the late afternoon. Jason cursed his bleeding heart once more and promised himself that he would keep the boy by his side no longer than necessary. Jay couldn't afford to be responsible for another mouth to feed. Summer has already come to an end and it was worth starting to save a little money and store things in case of early cold weather.
“If I teach you some of my skills will you promise to stay away from the places where I…work?”
“Maybe. Is this a deal?”
“Yes, if you'll agree, idiot. “
Danny nods and his new acquaintance continues.
“First of all, we'll get you shoes and some clothes. I don't need you to pick up tetanus and some viral crap.”
Danny smiles a little, trying not to make it too noticeable. Great trick.
He nodded to indicate understanding rather than agreeing, and the boy did not ask for verbal confirmation. It seems that he is not completely hopeless at deceiving people. Phantom couldn't wait to tell Clockwork or Frostbite about his success.
They wound through streets and rooftops for a long time until they reached other man's temporary shelter, and Danny had to admit that the man's decision to borrow more clothes was very clever. Strange sharp things and narrow bags of biological fluid were found between the houses disgustingly often. The elders are right about something? Danny must admit. Some people are nasty. They didn't even clean the settlement they live in properly.
A foul-smelling device for carrying things flew into the face of fae while he thoughtfully followed the boy telling him something about removing so-called tires from the iron inanimate horses.
“Dude, stop fighting with a trash bag. You'll stand guard while I give the customer the goods, okay?”
“Fine.” To be honest, the intern was ready to cry from the injustice of life and rush home, and he was only stopped by the desire to visit the observatory, which his new acquaintance mentioned when fae complained that because of the smoke and smog the stars would probably not be visible at night.
Danny realized that he did not regret his decision when, a couple of minutes later, he heard his human quarreling with adult specimen. Judging by the conversation, the man refused to pay the price for the things brought to him and even threatened to hit Phantom's guide. Danny was annoyed by this and decided to intervene a little. To his good fortune, on the balcony of this vile man there was a pot with withering petunias and they did not mind helping lil fae teach their owner manners. A slight whiff of magic and the pot falls on the deceiver's head and human begins to choke on the roots that climb right into his mouth. Danny giggles, congratulating his green comrades on their successful revenge. Other boy doesn't waste any time and grabs the bucks that fell out of the customer's hands and orders new boy to run.
Danny spent several days with human cub and really learned a lot about these creatures. Despite the fact that such a pastime was exciting, he needed to at least create the illusion of practice the fae skills.
It is dangerous to ask a person who knows who he is about this but teachers will be upset if he does not make an attempt. And despite the fact that the people around him seem scary, Nocturn will be much scarier in anger if he finds out that Phantom is such a loser.
“Ma- Can I have your name?” Danny muttered uncertainly and immediately panicked at his own impudence. “Sorry!”
“Jason.”
Todd was in a good mood, as luck had been with him for the last few days, and the new companion was not at all as useless as it seemed to him from the beginning. He was able to hide so well that no one could detect them, and managed to bring fresh fruits, vegetables and mushrooms to their safe house. However, there were problems with the last one, since this strange dude sometimes brought toadstools and satan's boletes to their apartment, which he managed to get from unknown places. Jason thought he was going to have a heart attack the first time he caught child happily eating raw fly agaric. Indeed, if Jay hadn't found him this boy would probably have died of poisoning in that park by now. Todd had to persuade him to bring only chanterelles, which he could confidently identify as edible and not fear for their lives every time the boy tries to help find food. And his padawan really managed to find them. In Gotham. Holy shit. Maybe this park, so fiercely guarded by the boy, was another secret area for Poison Ivy's experiments? However, poisonous specimens will not be wasted either, since you never know when you will need to defend yourself without entering into a fight, but acting more subtly.
“Real name! Real one!” The boy's eyes were as big as saucers and he became very worried and waved his hands as if trying to shake off invisible sticky threads from his fingertips. “You shouldn't say your actual name! Why did you do that? You shouldn't have given it to me.”
“There are a lot of Jason's around. Why do you care about that?”
“You're not just some Jason, you're my Jason, you're important to me. It's dangerous if someone has your name. Then that someone can make you do bad things.”
Tears began pouring down boy's face and Jason was surprised by such a violent reaction. Todd doesn't think there's anything to worry about, since he didn't tell the stranger his last name. He often introduces himself in different ways. Just, for some reason, something made him be honest this time. But how would this guy know that?
“Well…You're not just anyone. We're friends. I don't think you're going to rat on me to the cops or anything. So it's okay. “ Jay tries to calm the newcomer down.
“Friends?”
“Yes. Friends forever?” Jason teasingly holds out his little finger, offering a childish oath that he recently taught his padawan.
“Forever.” The boy supports the oath, and then, after thinking for a second, leans closer to Todd and whispers. "I'm Danny, just so you know."
“Good. I'll remember.”
The young fae is overcome with euphoria. He took the name! He did it! But that was all the other boy had, apart from a rusty tire iron, so it probably wasn't right or friendly to keep it. The human cub helped him. Danny couldn't keep such a gift. He didn't even really try to get his name. “Jason is your name.”
“That's right, buddy.”
“I won't call you that name.” Where I come from, even spouses rarely know each other's names. Danny wanted to assure his friend that he should not be afraid that he would abuse his power. “ I like you so I will take full responsibility for the possession of such a gift, don't worry.”
“Hah, in order to take responsibility, you already need to at least marry me as a moral compensation, given the number of brain cells killed by your antics. “
“Well, if I have to, then I will. When we're older.”
Jason snorts and shakes his head. It's probably not love, since they're just kids, but still, Jason thinks that if all autumn evenings were like this, he wouldn't mind spending his life with Danny, snuggling closer to the boy while they both bask under the same blanket. No matter how many times a day they managed to roll in the mud and fall into the trash can, the boy always gave off a light scent reminiscent of spring greens, which reminded Todd of something warm and cozy. Maybe a home? Although when his father was not in prison yet, his house smelled more like the stench of cigarette smoke and mold.  So Danny was more like a hope for a good home that they write about in books.
On their free evenings Jason usually entertained them by reading. Danny has always been an attentive listener, reacting vividly. After stroking the battered cover of a new book he found, Jason puts it aside. He's too tired today, and  just wants to listen.
Noticing this, Danny begins to chirp about his homeland. His stories are like fairy tales, too bright and colorful for the stone Jungle. Jay realized a long time ago that his friend had something like a defense mechanism. Todd himself snapped and fought when the world was too cruel, this guy escaped to his fictional world, where he was safer and happier. His friend could have been a great writer someday. The descriptions of Princess Dorathea and her cruel brother, pharaoh with an unusual passion for technology and ultra-recyclo vegetarian queen of plants were so detailed and vivid that they seemed true. Danny's imagination contained the whole world.
When the first snowflakes fall to the ground, Danny says that this means that his friend Frostbite will soon come to pick him up. Jason is honestly not ready for such a turn of events. He promised himself that he would not be around another boy for longer than necessary, but he managed to get attached. He hopes that this statement is just another one of his companion's fantasies and forgets about it for a while.
A snowstorm is raging in the city when Danny does not return home. The snowfall does not stop for several days, and Todd realizes that his friend left him, although all his belongings are left in their apartment. He hopes that someone really came for the boy, and not that in the spring his body will be found in one of the melting snowdrifts.  After a few months, when the canned homemade vegetables carefully cooked by Danny are coming to an end, and the mold, sitting alone  in a corner of the ceiling all winter, felt the first the warm rays of the sun, Todd decides not to waste energy on useless worries and hopes.
Soon, as Danny would put it, Batman steals Jason. Todd doesn't really trust the old man at first, but he teaches him to be Robin, and, well, Robin is cool. He's magic. Robin is an urban legend, a spirit worthy of being the hero of Danny's favorite stories. Robin is Jason's connection not only to the city itself, but also to his past. Robin does not need to think about whether he should grieve not only for his mother but also for his friend. Robin is more. There is not only strength and hope in this uniform, but also memories, nostalgia and  humanness. Therefore, Todd is not ready to give up the suit, even if he understands Grayson's displeasure. Because when he goes out on a patrol, the longing becomes less, and he feels that he is getting better and closer to something important. It helps.
No.
It helped.
And then he died.
And things are getting worse by the day, hah.
~~~A few hits with a crowbar later~~~
Jason learns about a new attempt of eco-terrorism relatively late, when he is officially called to help. Even so he stays at the place of the fight before the rest of the family. Firstly, because this time Ivy decided to start destruction from the closest to Crime Alley park, and secondly because Ivy's creations always pay little attention to him. Even the famous pollen has almost no effect on Hood.
Making his way through the furiously writhing vines, Red Hood notices the enemy and realizes that it is not Ivy, but decides that he will analyze the situation during the battle and rushes forward.
“Hey! Don't touch B, you.. “Almost flying into a guy with such a familiar face, the Hood slows down sharply “... pointy-eared.”
A guy with sparkling green energy in his hand and a vigilante with a pistols in each hand freeze looking at each other.
“Man, is it you?”
Snow-white hair, glowing green eyes, transparent dragonfly-like wings and razor-sharp claws are completely unfamiliar to Todd, but facial features, expressions and a bracelet with star pendants that Jay gave Danny for his birthday, adorning one of the impressive polished horns, allow to recognize him.
“Jay! It's been a long time, my friend.” Hearing Todd's voice, despite the sound changed by the helmet, the creature calms down. “You've grown up a lot.”
“And you're still so short. Wow. And, by the way, I can't believe you're still keep it.” Red puts the safety of the guns and then points one of them at the jewellery. “It's from a dollar store, nothing special.”
John says goodbye to the hope of a day off after the mission, cursing the manners of the bat and his offspring. Is a couple of days without the risk of interdimensional conflict really that too much to ask for?
“You gave it to me. That's why it's special.”
The creature smiles and Todd feels his face blushing. It's a good thing he's still wearing his helmet. Danny looks too…magical…in every sense.
“Do you know him, Hood?” Of course, Bat cannot stay out of the conversation when nothing is holds him back.
“No.”
“Yes.”  Danny denies the statement of Hood, proudly puffs out his chest and declares. “He was my first. He calls himself Hood these days? How strange.”
Bat gasps and exhales indignantly.
Jason quickly connects the fact that his friend is definitely not human with the possibility that Danny's stories were true.
“Name!” Trying to fix the chaos that his friend is trying to involve them in, Red Hood hurries to explain. “He's talking about damn name. I'm the first one who gave...”
“Oh, come on, spoilsport. He almost believed me.” The fairy winks playfully and Jason has to do his best to focus on the mission and not on the guy. “You're my betrothed anyway. And, hey, I collected the library as a wedding gift.”
“Hm.” Hood rolls his eyes. This joke about their childhood promise would have been hilarious if he hadn't felt the old man's rising pressure behind his back. So, returning to the problem, he still needs to get these two away from each other as soon as possible. Neither Danny nor Bruce has a calm personality, and Jason didn't want to start Danny's acquaintance with Alfred by giving first aid to these dummies. “So what's all the fuss about? Are you like um.. Ivy's pet-pixie or what?”
Now John Constantine, who carefully watched the meeting from the sidelines, almost feels his blood pressure rising too. Compare faeries with garden pests. What was Batman's son thinking about, showing such disrespect? He wanted them to have more problems or what?
“Hm? Who is Ivy? I've never heard of her. To be honest, I'm only here because our gate was disturbed.” The fairy chirped angrily and, with a nervous flutter of his wings, flew up to the bushes. His finger pointed accusingly at the crushed mushrooms that John and Batsy had landed on when they unsuccessfully attacked Dr. Isley. “But even though your companions' behavior is inexcusable, I don't blame you, of course. I am glad that we met again because of this incident, Tagetes.”
The Faerie circle...John hadn't seen this in years. Damn Gotham. He difenetly doesn't want the problems of this crazy city to fall under his and Shazam's responsibility. Now it is clear why Rogue disappeared so quickly. She probably knew about it and wanted to make them someone else's problem. Damn it twice, John should have sent a message instead of coming to Gotham to discuss business with Wayne. Being uninvited guests of such mischievous and malicious hosts does not bode well.
“You are lucky that the Fright Knight is not on duty today. But someone will have to answer for it. Is it really so hard to look at your feet? Or is this a deliberate provocation? I demand an apology.”
“No, enough games for you. They're a little busy chasing someone, in case you didn't notice.” Jason starts pulling on his friend's hand, intending to take him out of the park. Next to these paranoids, it's better not to ask an old friend about anything. “Only good little fairies are invited to my safe house to taste my signature lasagna today, so stop trying to give my old man a heart attack, okay?”
“Wait. Is this Willis?” The fairy's eyes narrow and he looks at the cloaked dark figure with disapproval.
"No, another jerk. B has a problem with adoptions and that's the reason I'm now part of his brood." Jason reluctantly explains. "He literally dragged me off the streets without consent after I tried to take the tires off his car."
“Oh my Ancients, he did what?! But you're mine! He had no right to steal you.” Danny indignantly rustled the leaves of the closest trees.
“I prefer to be considered as my own man, thank you very much.”
“Riiight…but still, speaking absolutely one hundred percent theoretically, who would you rather stay with, darling? If only you were mine~”
“Ja-..Don't let yourself be fooled, Red Hood. You can't trust him. Ten or even fifty years spent on a prank don't mean anything to this creature.” Bruce doesn't look happy with how at ease Todd is with the threat, but frankly, he rarely looks happy at all, so the crime lord doesn't attach too much importance to it.
"Wow. Rude. This is partially true, but it still hurts. Jason is a friend. I won't do anything to him and I don't demand anything from him. I can't say that about the rest of you. I was preparing for a long-awaited vacation, and because of your fuss I have a new bunch of paperwork to do. What can you say in your defense?"
The boy with the snow-white hair didn't look really upset, but just because there was still a smile on his face, it couldn't be said that he wasn't furious. Next to fairies, all human senses became enemies, not allies.
Despite the deceptive good-naturedness of merrily fluttering his wings guy, John was on high alert. Short-tempered, playful and obnoxious temperament were both a blessing and a curse when working with these creatures. Fairies skillfully searched for loopholes in contracts and in general were the best deceivers among those who could only tell the truth. Faeries prefer to bend victims to their will with words, but they are skilled users of the magic of nature and chaos. They also, despite the business acumen as strong as the alligator's mouth closing strength, were willing to play cat-and-mouse with those who dared to turn to him for help or just walk near their possessions. And this specimen was also clearly not one of the fairies that Morningstar had taken over control, since his energy reeked of Infinite Realms. Unknown territory. John urgently needs to come up with some ingenious plan to get everyone out of this fighting safe and relatively unscathed and…
“Fuck off, B. I told you he already has my name. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it at any time. You should show more respect for your future son-in-law, you know.”
“Jason, honey, since when do street rats hang out with bats?” Danny obviously didn't have much sympathy for the Gotham vigilante before, but because of his story, their chances of getting along tended to zero.
“Oh, come on, don't even start this conversation. What is more important…Who would I rather stay with? Hm…Let's say, um, theoretically, of course…If your fiance was killed by one very very bad cruel clown, what would you do, Stardust?
"I would tear clown molecule by molecule."
“Yes, yes! Right!” Jason pats Danny on the shoulder and turns to Batman. “See, that's how you should have reacted.”
Constantine: …What an Addams family. I'm leaving. I've already seen enough. If you get kidnapped, don't call me. Damn freaks.
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Come with me now to see my world
Where there's beauty beyond your dreams
Strangers Like Me - Phil Collins
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
Text
DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
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oppopotamus · 6 months
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i have a toji brainrot rn.
dom!male!reader (younger than toji but still an adult) wanting to fck toji (dadbod toji yum) and toji doesn't believe that reader will be able to pleasure him.
toji gets wrecked (maybe some overstimulation and squirting as well teehee) and he gets smitten and addicted. 🤭
My next door neighbour is a hot dilf??
toji fushiguro x dom top male reader
srry this took so long I took a HUGEE break from writing
listened to Katy Perry while I wrote this which may or may not have affected my writing
Warning: NSFW, dilf toji, top reader, thigh spanking, toji passes out twice, toji cries, reader gets mean i guess??
Toji, your hot dilf neighbour, the guy who lives in the apartment next to yours, he's only across the hall.
You need this man, even if it's the last fucking thing you do.
You will not give up, you will persevere and fuck the living shit out of this total dilf.
You REFUSE to give up.
So that's why you were in front of his door, looking directly up at this dilf.
"Uh, hey!" You tried to sound confident but the sweat on your palms and your nervous smile gave it away that you were, in fact, not confident.
"Ya need sum'?" Toji's deep, rough voice sent shivers down your spine. His voice was so hot, you needed to hear him moan in that voice.
"Oh, uh, yeah..." 'Quick! Think of something!' You said in your mind.
"Uh, uh- Uhm... sugar!" 'Sugar? Fucking sugar? What kind of fucking response is sugar?!'
"Sugar." Toji repeated your word.
'Shit! He probably thinks I'm crazy!'
"You need to borrow some... sugar?" Toji raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at you.
"Uhm... yeah." You say, wiping the sweat on your palms onto your pants as you stand there very awkwardly in the front door.
"I think I have some left... come in." Toji says as he walks into his apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow.
You nod and laugh awkwardly, following in after him and into the kitchen.
You're literally shaking from nerves, you pinch yourself to steady yourself but instead you end up letting out an, "ow!"
Toji quickly turns around with a raised eyebrow, "you okay, kid?"
You shake yourself off and nod quickly, "yup! Just, uh, stubbed my toe!"
Toji raises an eyebrow at that, he doesn't know how you stubbed your toe considering you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, not next to anything.
He just turns around and grabs a mug to collect some sugar.
"And I'm not a kid, by the way... I'm in college, I'm an adult."
"Coulda' fooled me." Toji scoffs and grabs the bag of sugar before pouring some into a mug.
"I don't look like a kid! I'm, like, average height for someone my age! A kid isn't this tall!"
Toji just looks you up and down with a smirk and hands you the mug filled with sugar.
Your cheeks turn pink when Toji looks you up and down with that sexy smirk.
"Okay, so you may not be a kid, but you're definitely a virgin. You stutter and blush every time I look at ya."
You immediately stutter again, "I most certainly am not a virgin!"
"Please, you wouldn't even know how to please a guy like me." Toji scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"First of all, I'm not a virgin, second of all, I totally would know how to!"
"Really?" Toji takes a few steps towards you, his arms crossed over his chest, "Prove it then."
Prove it?! You say in your head.
"P-Prove it?" Your brain short-circuits at that, is this seriously happening?
"You heard me."
"Oh."
Not even a second later he's grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom, causing you to drop the mug of sugar onto the floor, but neither of you care about that right now.
"Prove it quickly, my son's gonna be home soon." Toji sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at you expectingly.
He has a son?! He really is a dilf!!
"A-Ah, alright then..."
You take a few hesitant steps towards Toji on the bed, you've never slept with a guy this hot before, you're usually so confident in bed but this guy makes you so nervous!
"U-Uhm, I'm gonna start now..." You say shakily as you reach a hand out and drag your index finger down from Toji's chin to collarbone, brushing over his Adam's apple which surprisingly makes him shiver.
"You're so hot." You desire starts to take control, clogging your mind and blocking out all the anxiety you previously felt.
"Thanks, kid." Toji says before letting out a quiet yelp as he's pushed down onto the bed, "That was quick-"
"Stop calling me 'kid'. It's annoying."
You glare at him before gently running your hands down Toji's torso, down to his hips, giving them a squeeze.
"M' not a kid... I know what I'm doing."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Toji scoffs.
"You'll believe it soon." You say as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his grey sweatpants and pull them down along with his boxers to just below his ass.
"You're already hard, really?" You tease with a smirk before reaching a hand out to give a single pump to his cock, making Toji grunt and grit his teeth when you pull your hand back.
You crouch down to drag his pants and boxers down to his ankles before pulling them off and spreading his legs apart so you can see his hole.
"You're so goddamn hot." You practically drool as you sit on your knees, your hands placed firmly on the insides of his thighs to spread his legs apart as you bring your head close to lick his hole.
When you see Toji's pleased reaction you keep going, licking and fingering him open until you deem him ready enough to take your cock.
You stand up again and unzip your jeans, pulling your pants and boxers down just enough to let your cock spring free.
"Jesus, you've actually got a big dick." Now it's Toji's turn to feel flustered when he sees your cock in all it's glory.
"You'll be even more impressed once it's actually inside you."
You smirk and grip the underside of Toji's left thigh, you push it back and use your other hand to grab your dick, slapping it against Toji's hole a few times, making the man squirm.
"You gonna put it in or wha' Ah!" Toji's eyes widen and he groans as you press the tip in.
"For an old guy you're hella tight..." You grunt and slowly push the rest of your length in. Once you're all the way in you give it a minute for Toji to adjust before you start slowly moving.
You thrust in and out slowly. brushing against his prostate each time you thrust back in.
Toji lets out a long string of moans and grunts as you move back and forth, in and out. "J-Jesus... y-you actually know what y-you're doing, h-huh?" Toji can't help but smile in ecstasy as you speed up your thrusts, "Hhholy shit-!"
Toji groans and grips the bed sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Haah, ffuck!" You moan and grab onto his hips tightly as you speed up, getting faster with each thrust.
"Oh, fuck!" Toji squeezes his eyes shut, a few tears falling down the side of his face from pure pleasure.
Toji can't believe how fast it happens, but he cums almost instantly, he blacks out for a moment until he comes back to his senses when he feels a hard smack on his thigh.
He yelps and opens his eyes, immediately moaning again once he sees you're still fucking him.
"Y-You're still g-going?"
You spank his thigh again, "I haven't even cum yet."
You groan and throw your head back, you're still gripping his hips tightly, he's sure to be bruised by now.
Toji feels as though this has gone on forever, when it's only been fifteen minutes since you started, but to him it's felt like an eternity with how many times he's came.
Toji cums again and again, he's crying at this point but he doesn't dare ask you to stop.
It's not for another twenty minutes later till you cum, Toji sees stars when it finally happens, he cums so hard he blacks out, falling limp on the bed.
You come back to your senses and immediately freak out, "Toji?!"
You look down at him worriedly, when you see that he's breathing you calm down, you have no idea what to do so you do what any normal person would do.
You pull your pants back up and walk out of the room, quietly shutting it behind you.
You walk to the front door and open it only to see a teenage boy who's about to open the door.
You immediately stop in your tracks and have no idea what to say, you just quietly step outside and past the kid, the kid eyeing you warily.
"Uhm... you Toji's kid?" You ask awkwardly.
"Yeah... I'm Megumi..." The kid, or Megumi, says, still glaring at you.
"Uhm, maybe don't go into your dad's room for a while..." Is all you say before you run away, back into your apartment.
"What a weirdo..." Megumi says out loud to himself before walking inside.
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