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#so i'm sitting in my apartment with a stupid mask on
peachesofteal · 7 months
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pls let Simon hold that baby 🥺
Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild suggestive content, mention of spanking - could be considered mildly dark and twisty
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"Oh, you came!"
What? Yes, he came. You invited him, didn't you? Wasn't that... did he get this wrong? "Er, yeah... I thought you said-"
"I did, I did. Come in." You step to the side, allowing him entry into the hallway where the smell of something incredible lingers, pulling at the pockets of his cheeks. You can cook. Judging by the scent of roast chicken and herbs that fill the room, he knows immediately that you're better than the 'subpar' dinner you mentioned yesterday. "You just ah, seemed unsure. I didn't want to assume." His hand pats his pocket instinctively, seeking the mask, trying to fight the urge to pull it over his face, pleasantly surprised you don't seem off put by his face, or the fact that it's the first time you've seen him without it.
"I had some things going on today, wasn't sure about my schedule until a few hours ago." Lie. It's a lie, a bold faced one. He knew he'd be here from the moment you had rushed out the invite, offering to cook him dinner as he dwarfed you inside your cozy apartment, dead smoke detector batteries in his hand.
"Well, thank you for coming. And thanks for all your help yesterday. I couldn't figure that stupid thing out to save my life." You laugh, teeth exposed, easy and carefree. A shiver ricochets down his spine. Why you let him inside your flat the first time, he'll never understand. Maybe one day, he'll reprimand you for it. Chide you for letting a stranger inside your home, remind you to be more cautious. He would explain why you need to more careful, more observant of your surroundings, as his thumb rubbed away the fat tears falling over your cheeks, the result of him taking his palm to your ass a dozen times for the slip up. Can't be makin' mistakes like that, love. Not with it just being you and the baby when I'm not here- he'd tell you, make you promise not to do it again, soothing your tears with cool cream against your skin and gentle, but firm, reassurance.
You just need someone to take care of you, that's all. Teach you.
Emmaline makes a noise, a half babble, half cry, and it breaks him from his reckless daydream, bringing him back to reality in a matter of seconds. What is he thinking? You're his neighbor. He doesn't even know you.
"Thanks for inviting me." You're bent at the waist, hands pulling a roasting rack from the oven, perfectly cooked bird sitting on a bed of potatoes and carrots, and his stomach rumbles almost loud enough for you to hear.
"I owe you. That beeping would've kept little miss here up for hours." You jerk your head in Emmaline's direction, where she's fixated on you, mouth hanging half open. "Needs a few more minutes." You mumble to yourself, and then turn around again. "Do you want a drink? I've got some lagers, and a bottle of wine somewhere." Your fingers knot together, words on the tip of your tongue hopeful, almost... nervous, and you give him another smile, albeit this one is less confident.
"A lager would be good." He tries to settle you by being agreeable, and you produce two from the fridge, your fingers brushing against his when you hand one to him, skin warm and so, so soft, the kind of soft he's rarely felt, the kind that feels like silk against sandpaper. Yours against his.
"So, you said you travel for-" Your question is interrupted by a shriek, a demanding cry from Emmaline, her little fists waving in the air at you, like she's indignant about the redirection of your attention. You pick her up, yellow jumper bright against your red apron, and you shoot him an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, I was hoping she'd be down by now but, she's just been so fussy lately." You bounce her back and forth, cries quieting until she's just blinking at you with wet eyes, and the timer on the oven goes off. "Shit. Ah..." You look at her, and then look at the oven. "Can you, would you mind?" You extend your arms, Emma inside them, and he puts every piece of his training to use trying to control his reaction.
His heart soars.
His brain panics.
"Yeah, okay." He says, and you dip forward, pushing her into his arms. He knows how to hold a baby, held Joseph plenty, and she seems to agree, settling in against his chest, hands grabbing at his sweatshirt, tugging and trying to eat the fabric. She's light, lighter than he expected, but still sturdy, and when her lips shift into a gummy smile as she makes eye contact with him, he feels everything logical inside him shutting down.
Beautiful baby girl, and her perfect, sweet, angel of a mum.
He'll be keeping you.
He'll be keeping you both.
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rboooks · 1 year
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The Royal Consort Part 2
Danny nervously took a sip out of the coffee mug. The rich liquid, filled with surgery goodness and creamer, helped settle his nerves as he tried to think of what to say.
Across from him sat Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and a man named John Constantine. Besides Danny, Jazz, and his parents sat, though only Jazz seemed unfazed by the situation, staring back at the heroes as if daring them to start a conversation first.
Sometimes he forgot she was the most mentally stable one in the family.
The Dark Knight had said nothing to him since he was brought up to the watch tower, the white lens of his mask staring back at Danny with no hint of emotion behind them.
This contrasts Superman, who had warmly offered them coffee and pie as they were brought into the meeting room. The man of steel had even allowed them all to pick a mug from the gift shop free of charge, smiling warmly when Danny hesitantly asked for a Martian Manhunter theme.
Wonder Woman had given him a courteous bow befitting her status. She seemed eager to sit down and get the peace summit going as soon as possible. It seemed she had prepared various speeches, bills, and other essential documents Danny had yet to understand in his Government Studies class. She offered the young man a warm smile whenever his eyes nervously wandered to her.
John Constantine mainly had remained silent past the few swears under his breath. He fiddled with Danny's necklace- the Royal Consort necklace. How could he have been so stupid to wear that around his neck for so long without realizing what it was? It did explain why that particular necklace had a whole room to be displayed in.
It was in the center, on a lavish pillow, on a pure marble pillar. Surrounding it were six more miniature lockets, each on their own less extravagant pillar and pillow, with similar symbols. The smaller ones almost tempted Danny until he saw that this necklace had white and red, his favorite colors.
The others had been black and red.
He wonders now what the lockets meant and if giving one to Dani had been a mistake. He hadn't had the time to text her, seeing as he had been whisked away by the Justice League as soon as he woke up.
He was escorted out of his home before ten am with news crews tripping over themselves to get a few shots of Ecto-Royalty. They had his house surrounded, flashes and questions coming from all sides as the paparazzi struggled to be the first to get Consort Daniel Fenton to comment for them.
Danny swears Sam had been one of them, laughing silly with Tucker, who had somehow gotten a hold of a prominent news camera. The two had likely thought his secret had been outed and were trying to sneak him away while pretending to be media.
"Come on. Come on," Constantine muttered in frustration, poking a glowing finger into the center of his locket. Each time he did, a soft ding went off in Danny's head, and he fought to not react. He thinks Batman had seen his flinch the first time it happened, but he hadn't said anything about it yet, so Danny hoped he was wrong.
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
Danny grimaces as the sound replays over and over again before he can't take it anymore and finally speaks up. "Could...could you not do that to my necklace?"
Constantine blinks, then hastily places his locket on the table as if it burned him. "Forgive me, your Majesty. I meant no disrespect."
"It's cool dude. You, ugh, don't have to call me that, by the way. Danny is fine."
The magic-user shakes his head. "Forgive me, your Majesty, but I could not do something so disrespectful. I can switch to Prince Danny, but never Danny. If His Majesty Phantom were to hear me make such a blunder, it could break apart any form of peace. I'm sure you know how much ghost value rules."
Danny thinks of the Yearly Treaty, Walker with his prison, The Observant's court, Clockwork's time frames, and even Far Frozen formal speech. He sighs. "Yeah, Phantom won't care, but his subjects will."
"Exactly."
"Speaking of King Phantom, would he be joining us soon?" Wonder Woman asks. Danny has a moment of panic before Jazz smoothly steps in.
"Phantom and Danny agree to not have him appear if Danny is near our parents." She says, gesturing to their horrified parents.
"What?" Mom looks close to tears, guilt making her face seem much older than Danny has ever thought possible. "Honey, is this true?"
Danny shifts in his seat. "Yes?"
"Oh Honey, why?"
"What are we going to do today, Jack?" Jazz cuts in again in a poor imitation of their mom. She deepens her voice, trying to match Dad's happy-go-lucky tune as she dramatically shakes her fist. "What we do every day, Maddie. Try to capture the ghost boy and rip him molecule by molecule!"
The other heroes make faces, but nothing compares to the devastated expressions on his parents' faces. He almost told them it was okay, that he had forgiven them, but Jazz glanced sharply in his direction and knew it was best not to say anything.
She has often said the only way he could rally heal from all the unintended trauma their parents inflected on them- not just the hunting but slight negligence- was to have them first see exactly what they had done. It would be harsh, but it would be necessary.
"Makes sense" That is all Dad says. He's been so quiet since this morning. Danny is worried about him.
"That explains why he hasn't answered the summons." Constantine sighs. Danny opens his mouth to ask, but Superman beats it to him.
"You were summoning him?"
"Attempting to." Constantine corrects. "Prince Danny's locket has a calling bacon in it. Someone pressing magic against the center alerts King Phantom that his husband wants to speak to him. It's difficult magic too. Anyone with less control or power would be blown to smithers if they attempt it. Or, in Prince Danny's case tapping his finger against it works too since the necklace is for him. "
"Would anyone with the necklace be able to call Phantom then?" Batman finally speaks up. His voice makes Danny jump in his seat. It sounds a lot....darker than he thought a human could make.
"No. The necklace would only work if Prince Danny willingly let someone have it. If someone tried to take it by force, the necklace would transport itself back to King Phantom's lair or Prince Danny's person."
Danny clears his throat. ''Phantom and I have other rules. He can only come to see me if I'm not in school or if one of his subjects is attacking Amity Park. Otherwise, he mostly stays within the Infinity Realms."
Constantine nods as if that makes perfect sense. "The strain on your body must make it difficult to keep your husband here."
Danny nods, then takes another sip.
"If you don't mind me asking. How did you meet King Phantom?" Superman asks.
"I'm....a meta. I can make my eyes glow in the dark and I can turn invisible." Danny blurts, making both his parents gasp. Jazz nods as if it was common knowledge and not something Danny made up on the spot.
Those two abilities have always been more linked to his emotions, so Danny thought if he established a fake meta gene as the cause if he was later caught doing them, no one would bat an eye. The world was watching him now, he needed to be careful. "It's nothing really impressive, but I guess the day I activated it caught his attention."
"How so?"
"Um, well I was playing in my parents' lab when my best friends dared me to go into the portal. I thought it wouldn't work, so I did, but it launched me into the zone as soon I stepped into it. Phantom was this big ice looking thing flying by when I was falling in the zone- they don't really have ground in there. Everything was floating, but I just started falling and screaming since I couldn't fly. He caught me and offered to help me back to my home. The only thing was I didn't know how to go home, which way was up or down, and I didn't know how long I was gone. We tried to fly for a while, but the Infinite Realms always change. By that time, my home portal had moved to who knew where. Phantom took me to his lair to rest, Phantom, since he thought I was a baby ghost because my eyes glowed until I accidentally cut my hand on one of his icicles and bled-"
"You allowed your human blood to fall in his lair!?" Constantine sounds horrified. Oops? Maybe, stealing one of Frost Bites' few human encounter stories wasn't the brightest thing he could have done?
Oh well, he's already so far into the story. "Yeah, he reacted the same way. I freaked and turned myself invisible when he saw my blood."
"Blimey, I knew King Phantom is a protective spirit, but to think he didn't do anything to you once he found out you are a human- a virgin human no less- in his own lair? Benevolent is too little of a word for him."
Yeah, Danny really didn't like the sound of that. Sadly Constantine didn't seem willing to continue that line of conversation, and it would be really suspicious if he asked for more information since he is supposed to be the most informed person here.
After a slight pause, he continues, trying to sound confident. "He helped me get home after a while. Once we found the entrance to Amity Park, he asked if he could come to see me again in the living world. I told him it was fine, but I didn't think he meant it for real. Sam and Tucker- ugh my best friends- said I was only gone for three minutes but I swear it was much longer."
Danny could feel his face heating up. This is so embarrassing to be talking about himself in the third person. He felt so lame.
Jazz gave him an encouraging nod when he peaks at her. At least the others were buying his story.
"The next thing I know, my town is almost overturned by ghosts because, apparently, our passing through the portal stabilized it and established it as a new permanent entrance. I told Phantom, who vowed he keep it safe for me, and yeah, he fumbled a bit in the beginning, but he did a good job. Whenever he needed to fight I had to find somewhere safe to hide, so that I could keep him here, and that's why I missed so much of school and sleep all of freshmen year. His last big fight was against the old king Pariah Dark after the monster took Amity Park into the zone. Once he won, he was crowned and he um gave me this necklace. We've been going ugh, steady since."
The room was silent until Wonder Woman smiles "A most romantic tale Prince Danny."
Ugh, it really was. His face grew even redder as Jazz snorted. "Thank you."
Feeling an intense stare, Danny looks up, only to be met with Batman's emotionless face. "The reason you and King Phantom look exactly alike is that he took your shape, didn't he?"
What.
"That's standard practice." Constantine waves his hand. "Powerful beings that need to anchor themselves to the human realm often take humanoid figures. If King Phantom saw Prince Danny and thought he was the most beautiful person he's ever seen -which is likely since there haven't been any hints of Phantom having any partner before now- he would, of course, make himself look like him. He even copied his parents' hazard suits because he likely thought that would honor them. Am I right, Prince Danny? ."
I could kiss you, English man. Danny thinks gratefully as he nods.
Batman grunts but for a second, Danny thinks he didn't buy it. He doesn't say anything else.
"Well, what about-"
Whatever Wonder Woman was going to say gets cut off by a blur flying into the room. The heroes all spring up into battle positions as the blur rushes Danny. He's about to throw himself before his sister to protect her until the blur slows down.
It's Dani. She's wearing her own necklace too. Shit.
"Are you okay!?" She gasps. "I saw them take you on the TV and came as soon as I could!"
"Who are you?" Superman demands. His clone turns to the other side of the room, hands pose in a fighting stance and the British man gasps.
"Stand down! She's a royal!." He shouts, pointing at her necklace. His blue eyes flicker between the two halfas until they widen dramatically. "Princess, I swear we have done no harm to your father."
Dani tilts her head, momently thrown. "My father?"
"You are wearing the Heir Apparent symbol. I assumed you were made from Prince Danny and King Phantom. I apologize if I am wrong."
"No need. I am made from Danny." Dani smiles, likely unaware that the magic man meant a daughter rather than the correct answer, as in clone.
"I'm a grandmother!?" Mom shouts, and his Dad bursts into tears.
The room descends into chaos.
( Part 1 ) (Part 3)
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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months
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Eye for an Eye
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Summary: Miguel rescues you in an ugly way. A/N: my guilty pleasure is sometimes i wanna be saveddd Warnings: Brief suggestion to sexual harrassment/assault, a bit of violence.
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Somehow in the year 2099, most people didn't understand that Spider-Man in this age didn't follow the famous "no killing" rule that the original Spider-Man upheld in the Heroic Age. Most people meaning criminals.
Spider-Man, even when saving people from falling from skyscrapers or punching Public Eye scum in the face, if pushed to his limits- he would kill. This was his rules, his timeline, his Nueva York and if some pesky criminal wouldn't understand that then he'd get rid of them by any means.
So where do you come in all this?
Despite your efforts at secrecy, in the dead of night Spider-Man would often escort you home after work or if you had gotten into trouble with some purse snatcher. Other times, he'd sneak in your apartment window after a long fight, wanting to see you and have you patch up the wounds that would take a little more time to heal.
Spider-Man had revealed to you that he was actually Miguel O'Hara, the handsome stranger that had seemingly bumped into you more and more often after your very first encounter with Spider-Man. Having already been in an established relationship, you felt your heart drop at this major secret.
A part of you was angry at him for not telling you. For revealing your feelings about Miguel to his alter ego Spider-Man and making a fool of yourself. For all the nights he cancelled seeing you without explanation-something that put a strain on your relationship for a while. 
However the other half of you was drowned in worry. So all those times his masked covered face had come in to see you, bloody and bruised while you fixed him up, it was all him. He could die, you told him. Why would he do this to himself?
"I haven't been good all my life," He groaned while you pressed a damp cloth to his wound one night. "I think of all this as repentance for being a shocking moron in my earlier years."
"There are other ways to repent. Like donating to charity or some confession booth at a church. Not some...Not risking your life." You could barely look at him, tears brimming your eyes and threatening to fall while it clouded your vision. 
"I'm not religious." Miguel replies. "It wouldn't mean anything with these in my body now. They'd probably still send me to Hell regardless." He lifts his hand, his talons auto extracting from his fingertips and he feels the bile from his stomach stir, an urge to vomit at the disgust of himself.
He forces his talons back into his fingertips so he could tilt your chin up to face him. His thumb caressed your cheek to wipe off a stray tear that had fallen. "I'm sorry I put this all on you." He whispers.
You shake your head. "You're stupid, I always knew that," You sniffle and Miguel bites his cheek so he doesn't smile. "But I could help you better now. I...I know who you are and everything makes sense now, we could-"
Miguel stops you by shushing you. "No, no, no. You're not helping me anymore." Your heart drops again.
"What do you mean?"
"This is the last time we'll see each other."
Your jaw drops this time. Eyes that widened in shock now turn to anger. "Shock, Miguel. I knew you were an asshole but breaking up with me after revealing your secret identity to me has got to be one of the lowest things you're doing."
You lean away from him, bloodied and dried cloth thrown at his chest. "I was useful when you could just pop in whenever? No strings attached–was it fun?" You scoff in hurt.
Miguel grits his teeth. "No, carajo, it's-it's me-"
"Don't bullshit me Miguel with that it's not you, it's me rhetoric." You cross your arms tightly to your chest.
"It's dangerous!" He barks back.
"Like it wasn't dangerous before?" 
"It was! That's why I can't come back! I can't let myself lead them to you!" Miguel sits up and grabs onto your shoulders tightly and gives you a firm shake. His hands shake as he holds you, his head hanging. "This...this power of mine. I...it can lead so many of those assholes to you." He whispers. "I trusted you enough to come here, which I hate myself for. I should’ve never involved you in any of this.” Miguel’s hands fall from your shoulders and down your arms to grip your hands in his. “I’ve already put you in so much danger. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I’d do.”
The feeling of his talons pricking your skin and the sight of his fangs leaking a drop of his venom made you think maybe he did know what he’d do. He would just really want to avoid it.
“Miggy,” You say softly. “How about you let me make that choice? Now that I know, it doesn’t scare me. Do you know why?” You take your right hand out his grip to cup his cheek. His tired eyes look up to yours, nostril dried with blood and a scar on his forehead that surely needed bandages.
“Because I know you’ll protect me. You’re Spider-Man.” You lean in closer, Miguel under your spell. “Let me help you. That’s my decision. In return, if I’m ever a damsel in distress, I hope you’ll help me.” You give him a small smile and his hand covers yours on his cheek. He squeezes your fingers. “I promise.” He swears. Miguel always kept his promises even if he stumbled on the way. So when he went to visit you after his nightly patrol, he didn’t expect to see your entire apartment in disarray. His mask phases off his head, scarlet eyes wide and panicked. He gulps down his fear, muscles tense as he steps into your room. Blankets and pillows on the floor, some slashed and stuffing being poured out the seams. Your desk that held photos of you and your friends had also fallen to the floor, glass shattered and frames broken. Miguel takes another quiet step outside of your room. Your entire living room was a mess. Your couch had been moved and cut in half, lamps cracked and more photos on the floor. His heart stops when he sees blood in the kitchen. Some of the knives had been taken and another wave of fear splashes down his spine. It was clear there had been some sort of resistance with whoever took you. Whoever took you. Who took you? Miguel feels the fear morph into rage, his mask phasing back on his head. “Lyla. Scan this place.” He growls. His AI assistant glitches into existence, her eyes behind her pink heart shaped glasses full of worry. She begins phasing in and out of different places while Miguel lets the anger fester in his body. HIs talons on his fingers and feet itch to come out, to be sharpened for whatever poor soul’s flesh he’ll rip into. His fangs seep out his paralyzing venom, his tongue licking off the excess. Lyla appears in front of him, more meek and smaller compared to her usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. She knew there was a time and a place. “The blood isn’t hers. They most likely knocked her out since there’s no trace of her own blood around. Fingerprints on the knife handle are hers. No other DNA samples could be acquired.”
Miguel walks towards the entrance of your apartment. His hand grazes the door frame that had been split apart. Lyla appears next to him. “Forced entry, probably by foot. There’s some traces of wet soil–mainly seawater. I’ve tracked several fishing ports–most in Staten Island.” She displays holograms of different spots, standing tall by his side while he skims through. “Did you find a match on the blood?” His voice rumbles. “Negative, Miguel. None in the criminal database, including The Raft. Looks like this is the work of someone new.” Miguel grows furious. He roars as he punches his hand through the already destroyed couch. Some novice wants his attention so badly, he’s willing to piss him off for it. Miguel swings out of your place and searches the entirety of Staten Island’s fishing ports until he finds the one he was looking for. You don’t know where you are but you can feel everything. A sash was wrapped tightly around your eyes, some rope or zip ties held your wrists together and your ankles to the chair you sat on. You felt the pounding of a headache when you woke up. The last thing you remembered was one of the intruders lifting his gun and slamming the barrel down on your temple. They grew tired of you after reaching into the kitchen to protect yourself. You held them off well but you were still just one person. The sash had been lifted from your eyes and you groaned when a bright light of a lamp shined in your face. While you squinted, you could make out at least three people in front of you.
“I’m sorry about my men. They’re still a little new. You know how it is when you get trainees for a new job.” The one in the middle speaks, you noticed he also is the one that took off your sash. “What the hell was the point of all this? You just kidnap random people from their homes?” You glare up at the man and his two puppets. “Streets say you’re good friends with Spidey.” One of the smirks. “Had one of these guys watch him crawl in your window like some squashed bug.” You scoff softly, rolling your side to the side. “So what?”
The man in front shrugs. “Either you’re his whore or you know him. So which is it sweetheart?” He rests his hand on the back seat of your chair and leans in close to your face. “Who is Spider-Man?”
You licks your lips and stare back up at him, choking back the stretch his breath was. “I don’t know.”
He grins. “Hm. So you’re his whore. A special one at that. He doesn’t appear in just anyone’s home so what services do you offer him in exchange for some protection? Do they apply here? Baby, I can protect you too.”
He’s sick, your mind screamed. You struggled against your restraints.
“Shock you.” You spit on his shirt and he lands a hard slap across your cheek.
He mumbles a string of curses before grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Don’t forget who’s in the shocking chair, sweetheart. Your hero ain’t here so be a doll and shut the hell up.”
Your chest heaved up and down in deep breaths to calm your scared heart. You feel your cheek stinging and it didn’t help with this rotten man’s fingers digging into your skin.
Your silence pleases him and his other hand reaches down to your knee. “I don’t wanna hurt you, sweet thing. It’s just one simple question and I’ll let you go.” He lies. His hand rides up your thigh and your leg tries to kick him away from you but he just grips you tighter. “I don’t know.” You plead hoarsely. “I know, I know. So you say.” Out of the corner of your eye you see one of his men snatched into the darkness with a clawed hand around his mouth. Miguel. The guy in front of you digs his nails deeper in your skin and you can feel the scratch. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You whine at the pain, pursing your lips to keep yourself quiet. “See, Spidey’s head goes for millions of dollars–money you can’t even comprehend so if you could do your community a favor of just letting us in on some intel on the son of a bitch; that’d be great.” “You wanna kill him?” You ask breathlessly, looking to the other side to see another newbie being hindered, his neck tilted to the side while some teeth bite into his flesh. His body slowly lost consciousness and was also dragged into the darkness silently. “Most of Nueva York wants that guy dead. All the ones on top but I’m dirt poor, sweetie. It’d be a disservice for the hero to not let me kill him. Shouldn't he give to the poor and needy?” He sighs, letting go of your cheek so both his hands rests on your upper thighs. You feel your skin crawling and try to move away as far as you can in your seat. “But you don’t know anything do you? Then I’d be doing a disservice by throwing out some useful goods here, don't you think?” His grimy hands grip your hips, looping his fingers around your jean belt loops. Before you could even think, the man is instantly ripped off of you by his shirt. He’s thrown back on his side, skidding as he comes to a halt. Spider-Man towers in front of you, his back facing you. You could still see the rage oozing from his suit, shoulders and muscles tense and claws out. His chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, the only sound coming out of him.
“Spider-Man!” The man growls, stumbling to get back on his feet. His pistol had slipped from the back of his jeans, sliding away from him. “Dammit–Darrell! Fernando!” He calls to his two men but he freezes. On the floor are both his associates, one’s clothes ripped apart with claw marks on his chest, the other with his jaw slacked open and two puncture holes in his neck–a strange mixture of blood and another liquid oozing from the wound. He lets out a strangled scream as he looks back up at Spider-Man. His tall frame stalks over to him but the man crawls to find his gun. Before he could grab it, Miguel stomps on the man's arm, giving a satisfying crack to his bone which the man cries out painfully. While he writhes on the concrete ground, Miguel grabs onto his broken arm and lifts him up–he screams, trying to push Miguel away. “You wanted to kill me?” Miguel growls, his voice deep and menacing. The man pleads for his life and another set of footsteps come from behind. “Shoot him!” The man yells as Miguel looks back over his shoulder. The rest of the group comes up from behind Miguel, raising–what Miguel considers pathetic–guns up to his face. The eyes on Miguel’s mask squint slightly and just as quickly, he turns with the man in his hands and uses his body to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets. The man’s entire group fires and every single bullet pierces into his body, splattering blood on the ground and Miguel’s suit. Miguel makes sure that you weren’t hit at any moment. Miguel tosses the limp corpse to the side and pounces into the group, attaching his fangs into some man’s neck while his talons ripped along his arm to let go of the rifle he was holding. Chaos ensues and they all begin shooting at one another in hopes that one shot could land on Spider-Man. Miguel’s claws ripped apart limbs and skin, every single hand that raised against you was littered to the ground. He continues to swing and jump around, letting everyone get lost in the confusion before tearing through chests and stomachs. His rage knew no bounds at the moment. He had planned to just come in secretly while he still had a part of his mind. Get in, use his venom, take you and get out. But when he saw what that scum would’ve done to you, touching you, gripping onto you–he lost his mind. Even with Lyla’s brief protest, Miguel couldn’t help but want to tear him apart. So he did.
It wasn’t often Miguel had to be reduced to such measures but everyone had their limits. By the time it was over, he barely noticed how silent it had become. His ears were still ringing, he felt like he was underwater as he gulped in heaps of air. “Miguel!” He hears Lyla yell at him. He snaps his head to where he heard her voice, blind rage melting when he sees you still in the chair. He sees Lyla with her arms crossed, her little foot tapping angrily in mid-air. Lyla had done her best to cover your sight and hearing of the crime Miguel had done with holograms of whatever–surely it was much nicer than watching Miguel gnaw off a piece of someone’s throat. Miguel glances at his hands stained and dripping with blood. He wipes them on his legs, hoping to get it off him before you could see. He falls to his knees in front of you with a soft whine of your name and his mask phases off. “Lyla, blur the room.” Lyla does as told and lets you see him. Your eyes are concerned and scared. “Miggy…” You whisper, feeling the trauma set in. “I’m here, I’m here–I told you I’d protect you, yeah?” Miguel uses his talons to cut off the zip ties from your wrists and ankles that were digging in your skin. Once you were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms. Miguel fell back but made sure to hug you back, his arms going around your waist while his other arm went up to cradle your head. He buried himself in your shoulder, breathing in the mixture of your natural scent and the scent of the man. He growled and held you tighter. He’d do something about that smell.
“I was so scared–I didn’t know what to do–How did you find me?” You babbled as you finally felt safe enough to sob and cry. “Don’t worry about that. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Miguel reassures you, kissing your temple and cheek, pulling away gently to brush your messy hair away from your face. He wipes your tears with the back of his hand, unintentionally leaving a bloody mark. “Shit..” He mumbles, ashamed and pulls his hand away. You stop him, holding his hand back to your cheek. You just wanted to feel him, his warmth. You weren’t stupid. You knew what happened when Lyla put up holograms that blurred what you weren’t supposed to see. You didn’t care. May they rot. “Thank you.” You whimpered. “Thank you.” Miguel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Always. I’ll take you home.” “But, my apartment–” You try to speak as Miguel moves to hold your body in one hand while he swings on his web with the other. “Not your apartment. Mine. My penthouse. I’m never leaving you out of my sight again.” Your arms were securely around his neck. He was still tense but much less before. You tried to look back down but he squeezed you tighter– he didn’t want you to see.
For tonight, he’d take care of you just like all those nights you took care of him.
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adams-angels · 4 months
Text
Talk to me
Adam X f!reader
🎸I hope I do you all justice. Don't be mad if this isn't very good. I generally am not very good!🎶
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Smut below. Minors dni thx
This isn't the first time you and Adam argued. It sure as hell won't be the last but today was a little different.
It's started off fine. You were at Adams apartment for the weekend. You made him breakfast, he showered you in kissed, shared a bit of banter... And that's where it went wrong. You said something which made Adam say something unexpected and worse. So an argument ensured. It ended when Adam had been called into work.
The last thing you said was "fine, I won't say anything ever again." It was petty! You were being petty. It's not like you hadn't said it before but you always did speak again, of course you did! But no. Today was different. You were keeping to your word.
Adam got ready to leave. "Okay. I'm going now." You looked up and nodded. Not even a kiss goodbye was had. He left the apartment scowling while you stayed up and sulked.
As the day went on her texted you. "Ugh, work is so dumb. Idk y they even wanted me in 🙄" you picked up your phone and read it. You made sure to read it. So he would see that you saw it. Petty.
Now you know Adam. You know Adam needs attention 24/7. Even if you're not together you need to text him back. You need to make sure he knows you're still there. You're still his.
So of course he saw the read receipt. He knows you have your phone in your hand. "What are you ignoring me?" Read. "Don't be so pathetic." Read. "Why are you doing this?" Read. "whatever! You think I care?! I'm FUCKING ADAM! I'M THE FUCKING DICK MASTER! I DON'T NEED YOU!" Read. "ANSWER ME?!" Read. "Haha, check out this meme." Read. "Please say something." Read.
You had him reeling. His trust issues taking over his mind. What if you've left him? What if fucking Lucifer's got his tiny ass claws into you?! "NO!" His wings flare, he charges towards the nearest window and takes flight. He can't stand you ignoring him. He can't stand the thought of you leaving him.
He lands on his apartments balcony, you're not in the livingroom. His heart pounds in his chest. Opening the sliding door he enters his apartment. A very broken "hello?" Escapes his lips. No response. The silence is too much.
He explores his apartment, a bead of sweat forming on his temple. "Y/N?" He heads towards his bedroom and there you are. Lying in bed. You're not asleep, you're on your phone, still ignoring him. You could of swore you heard a sigh of relief. It doesn't take long before he's back to his arrogant self. "What up sugartits? Still not talking?" That cocky smirk fills his mask.
He hops into bed next to you. You glance up at him, that stupid smile. "What? I didn't do anything, babe. C'mon, why don't you just say something?" You respond with a glare. He sits up, his smile waivered slightly at your resistance. He brings himself close to your ear, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I know how to get you to talk."
His hand slides down your arm, to your waist then your thighs. You know where this is going. With no resistance from you he moves one of your legs, spreading them. His fingers trace along your pantie line, just to tease you. You can feel your face flushing. "You're too cute, babes." He muttered, causing you to look up at him. As soon as your eyes locked with his, he moved your underwear to the side. Sliding a finger between your folds. He can see you holding back a whimper. "Wow, you're already soaked? Thinking about my cock all day, huh? Of course you were."
He continued sliding a finger between you, gently hitting your clit cause you to twitch. But still no sounds from you. He frowns slightly. "Why don't you tell me how much you want it, Gorgeous." It was so hard not to break. How much your wanted to tell him you wanted him. But no. Then he would of won. He always wins! You hold strong. "Fine." He grunts as he gets up. He crawls between your legs whipping off her robe revealing his, always surprising, massive cock. Throbbing with anticipation.
"I'm gonna make you beg." He grumbled. He wasn't happy you were still not saying anything. At this point he missed your voice. He missed your laugh. Your tuts. Your groans. Anything. Any noise! He wanted you do make a single sound. You watched as he positioned himself and got ready for him to thrust into you. He grabbed his member and lined up with your entrance and stopped. You looked up at him confused. That smirk was back.
He began jerking him against your aching cunt. His tip brushing against your clit you can't help but whimper. You quickly cover your mouth. "What was that babe? You want me to fuck you?" He asked with that shit eating grin. You nod, looking at him with desperate eyes. "Use your words, baby." You furrowed your brow, positioning your feet you buck your hips to try and get him inside of you but he's too smart for that, pulling himself away. "Nuh-uh. Words, y/n. Use them." He purred, teasing you. He moved back, continuing rubbing himself off on you.
You whined in frustration and desperation. "Fuck 'm getting close, babe." Your eyes widen. No way was he close, but his brow twitched which told you he wasn't lying. He was going to cum soon. "Fuck me Adam! Please fuck me! I need you!" You begged. "ah, you want me now?" "Yes, please. Please Adam?" It didn't take him long before he was inside you. Feeling your walls clenched around his thick member. You moan in ecstasy. Adam, gripping your waist, pulling you as close as he can so he can get deep inside you. "Fuckin' feel so good~ such a good girl." He grunted, pounding into you.
It's hard to read his true expression with that damn mask on, uou managed to get your fingers under the chin of his mask and pull it off. You can see his flustered face, how desperate and needy his eyes are. "Sso p-pretty anh~!" "Shut up.." he burrows his head in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, small whimpers escape his lips as moans roar out from yourself.
"Fuck, y/n-!" His arms wrap themselves around your waist as he holds you down and close. Filling you with his seed. His head still pressed against the nook of your neck. "'m sorry..." He whispered into your skin. Your arms slid round to his back, gently running your fingers up and down his back. "Please don't ignore me again." He mumbled. "I won't. I'm sorry." You reply, holding each other close.
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed this one shot. It was fun to write! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
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ellebakers · 1 year
Text
☆ Desire | Part one (+18)
Ethan landry x reader.
part II. | part III
Summary : just ethan fucking you against a wall.
Warnings : smut + language + blood. ! SPOILERS FOR SCREAM VI !
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it's been a year. a year since richie and amber destroyed your life. a year of waking up every night screaming after having a nightmare. it had to stop.
when your friends asked you to come and live with them in new york a few months ago, you refused. but the more the months passed and the more you felt alone.
that's why a few weeks ago, you called each of them to ask them to put you up until you found a small apartment not far from the university.
"i would like y/n. really, but with tara and quinn, all the rooms are taken." sam told you.
"it doesn't bother me but... you might hear us a lot anika and me, well you know, you might hear us doing certain things." mindy said
there was only one person left. chad.
"no problem gorgeous , I'll arrange the third bedroom for you and you can move in with us whenever you want. ethan is nice, a little shy but nice." your best friend told you.
you were so excited. can't wait to see your friends, but above all can't wait to start a new life far away from woodsboro and especially far away from ghostface.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
it was eight o'clock in the morning, your taxi had just dropped you off in front of chad and ethan's building and you couldn't help but smile. this city is so big that no one is likely to find you. especially not the man in the white mask who haunted your nights.
after taking the elevator to the fourth floor, you took the corridor on your right as your friend had told you and stopped in front of apartment 45.
you raised your arm to knock but before you could move the door slammed open.
" y/n !"
" chad !"
you jumped at the brunette and hugged him, so happy to see your best friend. the boy did not take long to reciprocate the gesture.
"you still smell so good." he exclaimed.
you laughed "you’re still so weird."
he pulled back and lightly pinched your nose "i missed you, little head."
you smiled at him "I missed you too, big head."
he pushed aside to let you into the apartment.
once inside, he took your coat and your bag "is that all you took?" he asked you.
"yeah, i just took some change and some stuff. my parents will send me the rest."
he nodded and put your things on a small bench in the hallway.
"come, let me introduce you to ethan."
you followed him to the kitchen where a boy with curly hair was sitting at the counter. "ethan" hearing his name, the boy looked up. you can't help but notice how cute he was. "this is my best friend y/n." the boy's gaze fell on you for a moment then he quickly looked away. "y/n, this is ethan."
you waved your hand "hi"
"hi" he muttered, then he got up, got his things and walked towards what you assumed was his room.
chad turned to you pursing his lips "he's shy."
you nodded slightly, still confused by what had just happened. as a first meeting you had known better. did you scare him ? maybe he didn't like you. but you had only just met him, it was stupid.
your best friend cleared his throat, bringing you back to reality. " i forgot to tell you, but we're going to sam’s place in twenty minutes."
you widened your eyes "wait what? but i've only just arrived. and i won't be ready in twenty minutes."
he shook his head, raising his shoulders "but yes ! I installed your room, you just have to change, plus the girls don't know you're in town."
you crossed your arms "oh, so for once in your life you managed to keep your mouth shut."
a mischievous smile appeared on chad's face "oh, girls i had dated prefer when my mouth is open, especially between their-"
you cover your ears "shut up, I'm going to change."
he laughed and tickled you as you walked past him. "chad stop"
"ok"
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
after putting on jeans, a tank top and a leather jacket, you tore your hair down and put on some make-up, in ten minutes you were ready.
it was not the case of chad…
you growled when you saw that your friend wasn't ready and was running around looking for a t-shirt.
"seriously chad, put something else on your back it's okay."
"nah nah and nah, it's the t-shirt tara gave me. and besides, don't pretend that you don't like seeing me shirtless."
you rolled your eyes, then what he just said hit you.
"wait. you have a crush on tara!"
chad froze and turned to you "what? nah, it's just that...she gave it to me and...it would be rude not to put it on."'
"of course, I believe you." you smirked and chad gives you the middle finger.
ethan came towards you but moved very far away from you.
okay nice… you thought.
chad yelled which startled you. seeing your reaction he apologized "sorry kitten, I just found my top. come on, let's go, I have to stop and buy some beer, Tara only likes corona."
you smiled shaking your head.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
while chad was in the store, you were in the car with ethan, who still hadn't spoken to you.
a ding caught your attention. a new notification appeared on your phone. it was that damn dating app that mindy told you to install. a certain brian came to send you a picture. you opened it. and the photo of a dick appeared. you growled and blocked him. that was the downside with this kind of app, the guys you met on it only wanted one thing. sex. after turning off your phone, you leaned your head against the glass and sighed.
"you shouldn't be on this kind of app." for the first time that evening, ethan had just spoken to you.
you didn't know what to say, but it could be a good way to strike up a conversation with him. after all, you were going to live with him for a while so you might as well be on good terms.
"yes, I know. i thought i would meet good people, but i only come across perverts."
"you're really pretty. that's what they come for. maybe you should try talking to guys who are less handsome or popular, but who really care about you."
he finds you pretty. the cutest guy you've ever seen thinks you're pretty. you must have dreamed. and his voice. lord, you could kneel before him and do anything he asked just by hearing his voice.
"yeah well. every guy, popular or not, are interested in me until they see my scars and learn who i am. thanks to richie and amber."
you expected ethan to answer you but he kills himself. at the same time, chad got into the car and drove to sam's place.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
"chad! you're late. again." grumbled mindy.
the three girls were busy in the kitchen so they didn't see you come in behind chad.
"i have a body of god, it takes time to take care of it before going out."
"of course." his twin replied.
" i feel like a wave of mockery coming from you mindy. isn't it y/n?"
you approached and saw the three girls turn sharply, shock evident on their faces.
"holy shit." exclaimed sam
tara threw herself into your arms and mindy put down the bottle she was holding so as not to drop it, still in shock. they haven't seen you in months except for facetime.
"it's good to see you." murmured the little brunette who hugged you against her without wanting to let you go.
"it's good to see you too tara."
"okay okay, let go. it's my turn now." mindy exclaimed as she pulled tara away from you.
she cupped your face in her hands "fuck. is it good to be able to touch you." chad opened his mouth to comment but mindy cut him off rolling her eyes "not sexually dumbass."
you laughed and hugged your friend.
after a while she withdrew to make way for sam.
"i missed you." the eldest carpenter told you.
"i missed you too sam."
after a while, two other girls arrived introducing themselves as anika and quinn, after greeting them, you started to eat. it's been a year since you felt so good, surrounded by those you love and safe. your friends had all changed a lot over the past year, you were so proud of them. but something bothered you, like a bad feeling. you shook your head slightly to erase the feeling. after all, you were safe, nothing could happen.
you felt eyes on you. you turned and met ethan's eyes. you smiled at him but he turned his head towards quinn, they exchanged a strange look.
maybe they are a couple.
but they don't act like one. you looked away and focused on what mindy and anika were saying. after a few hours, your eyes began to close. chad was the first to notice.
"do you want us to go home?"
"i'll go home. but you, stay here. i'll walk."
"nah, we're going home too."
you knew he wanted to stay to spend time with tara. but you also knew that he wouldn't let you go home alone. "chad. stay here, i'll be fine, i promise."
as he was going to answer you, ethan cut him off. "i will accompany her."
chad was surprised but accepted. you got up, said goodbye to everyone and left with the brunette.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
the walk to the apartment was quiet and long. why did ethan want to come with you if it was to be cold with you. after a while, you found the courage to ask him the question you were dying to ask.
"did I do something to you ?"
you keep walking, and ethan didn't bother to turn to you when answering. "no, why ?"
"since I arrived you have spoken to me very little. and I have the impression that you don't like me too much."
"i don't know you, that's all. i'm always suspicious of people i don't know."
you didn't realize it, but for a few minutes, you had been following ethan down a dark, deserted alley.
"ok if you say so."
ethan froze, which made you stop. he turned his head in all directions.
"ethan what’s going on ?" you asked him.
he didn't answer you, you were going to ask him the question again, but he threw himself on you and pinned you against the wall behind you, kissing you.
it didn't take you long to respond by sliding your arms around his neck and kissing him. usually, you'll have pushed the boy away and probably slapped him. but ethan, you were really attracted to him. and we're not going to lie to each other, it's been a few months since you've had sex, so you weren't going to say no to a bang. after a while you pull away to catch your breath, he turned his lips to your neck, biting, licking and sucking on it in order to leave some marks. you moan when he finds your sensitive spot.
"ethan, someone might see us."
"i don't give a fuck."
you were ashamed to admit it, but hearing him talk like that made you wet.
"then fuck me."
he smiled against your neck "it was planned."
he pushed himself away from you, sliding his hands down your body until he was waiting for your jeans. he unbuttoned it and slid it off you, leaving your legs exposed in an alley. he knelt in front of you, knowing what he was going to do, you held your breath. he took the strip of your panties between his fingers and tore it. you were about to complain but ethan buried his head between your legs and took your pussy in his mouth. you moaned loudly and ran your hand through his hair.
"fuck, ethan."
you had a lot of guys who had went down on you. but ethan, fuck, it's like he's been doing this his whole life. between his tongue and his lips, you thought you were dying of pleasure. the more he penetrated you with his tongue, the louder you moaned. after a few minutes, the pleasure was too intense and you cum against his lips. he stood up as you caught your breath. he licked his lips "you taste so good."
"fuck me."
he smiled at you and lowered his pants to his knees, his boxers were the second to be lowered.
his dick was big and hard you didn't think it was going to fit but ethan grabbed your jaw between his fingers and made you look at him "it'll be fine." you nodded and he kissed you again. ethan took your left leg and put it against his hip. he spat into his hand and pumped himself a little before putting his cock towards your entrance. and in one movement he penetrated you, which made you moan and close your eyes. he didn't move, he took your other leg and lifted it, which allowed him to sink even more inside you. "fuck you’re so tight." he started his movements, slowly, pressing you more against the wall. you were still sensitive, which made you cry with pleasure at each thrust. "ethan, i'm close." he put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly. his dominating side excited you even more and made you moan pornographic. the more he squeezed and the more you moaned, after a while you felt your second orgasm coming. "ethan, I'll-" you didn't have time to finish your sentence. an orgasm washed over you, making you moan and roll your eyes. ethan kept moving, and you knew he was going to cum, you nibbled on his earlobe "go ahead, cum inside me." that's all he needed to end up in you. he leaned his forehead against yours and caught his breath.
with one hand he pulled up his boxers and his pants. he lowered you to the ground, but his other hand still remained around your neck. "ethan you can take your hand off."
suddenly he looked up and smiled at you, and his hand squeezed more and more around your neck, making you gasp for air. "ethan" you were trying to beg him to stop but he kept going. he passed his other hand behind his back, you hadn't seen what he had taken, but you felt it. it was a knife.
a knife he stuck in your stomach, you tried to scream, but ethan stopped you. he raised the knife higher and higher. you felt yourself dying little by little. he dropped you to the ground and watched you bleed out. after your last breath. he took his phone and called chad.
"chad, oh my god that's horrible. we got attacked by ghostface. y/n, she's dead."
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byullielle · 9 months
Text
Honey! Are You Coming? // Bang Chan x Idol!Reader
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HONEY (ARE U COMING?), Maneskin Chan tells Y/N that he's ready to make their relationship public, but always with a flair for the dramatic, he hesitantly tells her that he wants Dispatch to do the piecing together and just keep heading out with you until a rumor starts.
Tags: Est. Relationship, Humor and Fluff, Idol!Reader, Age Gap (5 years), Paparazzi (Dispatch) Involvement, Slight Angst, Social Media Utilization, Slightly Non-Linear
Disclaimer: this is my dissertation on idols dating. sasaeng contact also appears in this. MINORS DNI.
a/n: i know the song has barely reached a week of release but come on, the song is perfect. might be revealing my maneskin addiction but its a bangin song sue me.
“Baby,” Chan places his chin atop your thigh as you hum and look away from your phone down in his direction. He looked so cute, a cat headband ready in your solo apartment now adorning his head, matching yours. His eyes are tantalizing, shiny, and absolutely filled with genius and love before he smiles, “I have something to tell you, a suggestion actually,” 
There goes the mischief.
You raise a brow, now suddenly uncertain of the “suggestion” because you know Chan like the back of your hand, there’s a chance it’ll be stupid as shit.
“I think I’m ready to make our relationship public,”
A pindrop of silence blankets upon you as your breath catches on your throat. “Really?” you couldn’t help but squeak out. It was something you’ve talked about 6 months prior, right before Changbin was enlisted and he couldn’t help but turn down your offer regrettably because he thought it would impede on the moving process from dorms to personal apartments. 
You accepted his decision and response wholeheartedly, because you were satisfied with the relationship either way, knowing damn well Jessica and Jack Bahng loved you and you were the other 7 kid’s assigned head noona (despite being younger than the entirety of the 00 line).
It was one of the factors that made you secure in your relationship with Chris but it was getting a bit exhausting to constantly hide behind masks and caps just to visit or hang out with him. It was a bit selfish when it came to intentions but when were you ever selfless when it came to your want for Chan?
So now that him sitting up brings you back down in reality you raise both your brows and move your head back, "Are you sure? I'm not pressuring you or anything," you immediately counter, "I hope this isn't something I pressured you to do Chan, I swear I'm fine with our current situation,"
He chuckles, cupping your face before pulling you in closer and pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. You pout at him before you feel the comforting pressure of his hand on the crown of your head, "I'm 100% sure baby, I promise," he smiles assuringly, pressing your foreheads together, "Everything is in it's place now, we can take this risk now,"
"Okay," you breathe out in relief and close your eyes. "Although," you open them up again to see an absolutely playful look in his eyes. "I have an idea,"
You hum, looking right into his eyes before he detaches his forehead from yours, instead pulling you into his arms pressed to his side like a teddy bear. "What if we give Dispatch a little game, hm?"
You couldn't help but scoff. Of course. Your boyfriend hated being boring and basic, why were you even surprised? "You're suggesting," you lean your head against his shoulder and look up, "That we head out there and wait for a dating rumor to happen?"
"So smart," he scrunches his nose at you which garners a light punch to his chest, "Don't patronize me," you scold, making him laugh a bit more. "But yeah exactly that," he affirms.
"Well you better talk to the managers for that,"
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"What?" his manager nearly shoots out of his seat in surprise at the explanation before you turn to give him a 'I told you he'd be mad,' look before being shot back with 'At least your manager seems chill about it,'
You shrug and try not to shake your head too obviously.
"Actually I don't think it's half a bad idea," your manager speaks up and Chan's manager looks at her like she'd grown a second head. She throws her hands up, "I mean think about it, it's past comeback season and your other boys are in the military, they'd forget the heat in 4 months,"
"And if they don't?" Skzji questions with a cocked-up brow before your manager shrugs, "Free clout for the next comeback,"
Chan nods along, a bit impressed about being backed up because when you told her you were dating him she flipped out and you fought for nearly a week until you cried because you thought she was going to resign. Fun times.
Chan's manager seems to try and contemplate the repercussions of doing such thing. "Look at IU and Jisoo, they're doing fairly well now despite the dating revelations," she reasons out, "The fans will create a racket but let's have faith that the public would be a little bit more open-minded about it,"
"Y/N is also at risk," he throws back, "She'll be under more scrutiny compared to Chan because she's a female idol dating another idol, this is barely the same with IU and Jisoo,"
This makes you freeze up. He does have a very tangible and very correct point too—idol-to-idol dating was more delicate, especially given you and Chan's age gap, the fact that you were once co-trainees, and the demand of both you and him on fanbases, it was not the same formula as being or dating an actor.
But all in good faith. Should something backfire you're set for retirement and could simply carry on as a producer. Dating wasn't supposed to be such a locked-down, sure thing, but with your profession, it had to be.
"Are you ready to face that?" your manager looks to you with genuine concern in her eyes as you nod wordlessly. No words had to be said, the day both of you told them that you were dating she already knew every commitment you made to the relationship wasn't half-assed.
Defeated, his manager sighs and flails his hand, "Then go do what you want,"
Chan covers his lips behind his hand but you could almost feel the smile on his face. It was cute as you couldn't help but giddily slot your hands between your thighs along with lips pressed together in a thin line.
"Oh come on! There's no hiding your reactions now, you look like a bunch of schoolgirls!"
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"Give them a little bit of a challenge baby, you're making this too easy," you chuckle and roll your eyes before sliding on the mask over your mouth despite Chan's pout and initial protest. "Alright point taken," he quickly concedes and grabs another mask from the glove box, "They'll probably take forever though,"
"It's mid-year, I just hope they don't fucking wait till January 1st to announce something," you sigh before looking at him with creases upturned by the corner of your eyes, "Let's go?"
He nods and you wait by the passenger's seat for him to circle around the car to open your door. He holds his hand out and you slot it through the gaps, intertwining your hands as you get pulled out of the car. He guides you to the streetwalk, hand in hand as both of you try to scan for the tteokbokki place you loved so much.
The owner is nice, an old woman who knows you're dating but doesn't know you're idols—bless her—and she's the reason both of you could go get tteokbokki all lovey-dovey cause she has never tattled so far. You even celebrated your 15th monthsary in this small, kinda run-down shop.
Both of you figured it was a good start to tip off people, after all, you never truly knew who was watching and following.
"Halmonie!" you greet happily while Chan holds the door for you. The only other occupied booth looks your way while the old woman beams and waddles towards you with her walking cane. "Aigoo, aigoo, you're both here! Sit, sit!" she immediately ushers as Chan slots hands with you again before taking a seat at the small stools, your usual booth.
"What shall I get you kids again today? The usual?"
"Sure halmonie, add rose ramyeon for us too please," Chan nods before slipping his mask off. Usually the cap would still obscure his features but all in his curly hair and barefaced glory, you were squealing in delight at how much of a great idea this was. You couldn't help but reach over and pat down a few of Chan's stray curls while he looks at you with utter adoration.
You hum and then sit back down once satisfied, smiling and nodding to yourself before Chan couldn't help but chuckle at your ministrations. "You're cute," he says with a cheek on his palm before you roll your eyes, "No you,"
"Oh?" he raises a brow and before he could retort you could feel something capture the moment. It's always been enhanced the longer you worked in the industry—the feeling of a camera pointing towards you. It was a bit invasive but nonetheless, you send Chan a knowing look before leaning forward, "You think we'd show up on twitter today?"
"Possibly," he whispers back.
"You alright with that? It isn't dispatch,"
"Yeah, but knowing them?" he scoffs and leans back, "They'll get their hands on it in no time,"
You laugh softly and shrug, "Whatever helps them not release it January 1st,"
He looks at you with an amused glint in his gaze, crossing his arms while scanning through your features properly, "You really wanna tell the world ASAP that badly huh,"
"I mean!" you start to defend yourself, a little bit flustered that Chan could read you like an open book, "It'll be fun and all but if they take too long I'm doing it my damn self,"
"4 month cut-off?" he negotiates as you nod, satisfied at the timeline given, "4 months,"
As the night progresses, both of you eat your tteokbokki, fish cakes, ramyeon and kimbap in peace, muddled in either deep or playful discussion.
And unfortunately, you two didn't trend on Twitter that night.
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Foregoing masks was one thing, but showing up to the JYP building like you were part of the damn company was another. With your hair tied back, bareface on full display, only your eyes obscured by a black cap, and casual clothes on, it seemed like you were just clocking in on a work day to have a producer's meeting in JYP but fortunately, you were just there to bug your workaholic of a boyfriend.
With a box of vitamins, a takeout bag of soup, and a lunch box, along with a flask filled with water, the security greets you with a smile before handing you a visitor's pass to aid your roaming around the JYP halls. Getting to Chan was mapped out in the frontal terrains of your mind, getting there at record speed while occasionally greeting the staff passing by.
To say that this was a more liberating experience was an understatement.
Usually, Chan would have to schedule your arrival properly so that none of the staff potentially paid off my paparazzi would snitch when they see you but now it was so different because you were going to Channie and he didn't even know it. People look and stare on your way to his studio, sure that it'll definitely get some interns talking but you simply give them polite smiles and curt bows before carrying on.
You finally get to the floor of Chan's studio, humming to yourself before reaching the door and knocking. You press your head slightly to the door, listening for music in case he didn't hear the knock until you see a staff member exit the studio next door. Trying not to mind them, you knock a bit louder, hand heavier on the door before they whip their head at you and furrow their brows.
"Excuse me, are you an intern? You shouldn't be knocking that loudly against Bang Chan-ssi's studio!" she scolds which makes your brows shoot up a bit at the reprimand.
If there was Chan's Room, he'd tell you for sure and you'd already be watching the broadcast. His next formal recording doesn't happen in this studio specifically and last time you recall you've garnered specific rights to interrupt him—girlfriend rights and all.
You couldn't help but sheepishly scoff, "Oh I'm not an intern," you respond, feeling the heat rise up your neck a bit before she starts approaching you with a bit of an annoyed gait to her.
Just in time, Chan opens the door to his studio. "Y/N-ah?!" he greets with ample surprise and thrill in his voice.
"Brought you stuff!" you excitedly hold up the things in your hand as the staff member comes to a halt.
"Chan-ssi, you know this woman?" she questions, accusatory with a finger pointed to you. Chan simply chuckles and gently takes the brim of your cap and slide it off your head with utmost care, "She's my girlfriend Kim-ssi, it's all good," he smiles as she drops her jaw in shock.
In all fairness you DID look like a stalker with the cap on.
"Oh my... I'm terribly sorry," she bows before you laugh and wave your hand to dismiss it, "It's alright. I hope you have a good day," you bid before Chan lets you in the studio. "What do I owe the visit to baby? This is such a surprise!" he beams and gives you a bone crushing hug.
"Well that's the goal!" you giddily hug back, relishing in his warmth and scent. You close your eyes, absolutely enamored by his presence.
"Seems like you needed some boyfriend time, yeah?"
"Nuh-uh, other way around," you jokingly frown and scrunch your brows while pulling away from the hug, "You need girlfriend time," you point at his chest before turning to the food you brought, "And something for your stomach,"
He couldn't help but smile fondly at the array of things laid on his table, "Really, thank you baby, I appreciate it so much,"
"I know," you giggle and reach out for his cheeks, cupping them before pressing a sweet kiss on his lips, slow and relishing, "Now go eat first so that I can kiss you silly,"
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"Channie!" you shoot off the couch as he jolts up in shock, taking off his earphones before humming and looking at you with concern-laced eyes. But once he sees the excitement on your face, he smiles and chuckles at the message.
"Well," he huffs in amusement, "Finally some of them decided to move,"
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"Wanna go out for a walk?" he suggests.
You hum, entertaining the idea before your eyes flit back to the screen of your computer, the spliced chords only staring back at you in ridicule as you hit a very hard slump.
Without any hint of a lie; the recent Dispatch article did pressure you a bit to work harder on your own group's next comeback because you had to have some sort of fallback from all the backlash you were getting. The hate was still relatively tame, but you knew it was going to double over once the real announcement was made.
So yes, you did want to go out for a walk, but you also wanted to keep your ass planted to your chair. You look to Chan who was patiently waiting for your response, miraculously out of his studio and instead stuck in yours. "I think I'll...pass first Channie I gotta get this down first," you mumble against your frown before facing the equipment once more. "I've been watching you for the past two hours," he sighs and takes both arm rests of the swivel chair, pulling it towards him before gently lifting your chin towards his direction—so that you two were eye to eye.
You found, as the relationship progressed, that both yours and Chan's eyes were so expressive, so vulnerable, and it became a reoccurring habit to just look into them with all intent and you'd find the secrets of the world laid inside. Your world, at east.
"What's bothering you?"
"I..." you hesitate, making you sigh and roll your eyes in self-ridicule, "I guess I'm just bracing myself for the fall, is all," you shrug, "I really wanna do it, I'm just a bit scared that if I don't do good on the next album they'd find another way to dogpile on me once our relationship gets out,"
Chan frowns, moving his hands from your chin to your hands, gently ushering you to stand before he guides your legs up against his' so that you're facing him directly, lips so close you could almost taste the Carmex off it. "I'm not about to tell you that you could call it off because you'd punch me," he jokes a bit before caressing the skin on the lower part of your cheek, "But honey I hope you don't start beating yourself up over this, alright? You aren't alone in this," he reassures, almost begs for you to believe in his words. To believe in him.
And you do. You really, really do.
"You'll always have me by your side. If they dogpile on you then I'll do my best to defend you from that," he presses a slight peck on your lips, "I promise,"
A feeling of warmth radiates in your chest, a small yet genuine smile finally making onto your face. The burden on your shoulder wasn't completely gone and washed off, but the assurance of a safety net, of someone to go home too was definitely helping lighten the load. You wanted to say so much, and none of the words were properly coordinating in your head so instead, you just take his hands and push down.
Your lips slot together, properly this time, while your arms find their way around his neck. You both stay pressed, stay so close while your tongues slip and lock together. The warmth of his lips are heavenly against yours, the velvety feel paired with his slick and delectable tongue—you were hooked.
His hands remain steady on your cheeks, calloused thumb gently running on your jaw before both of you have to break away for air. "Thank you, Channie," you manage to breathlessly state as he chuckles and nods, "Now...for that walk?"
Groaning, you throw your head back in exasperation, his hands now on your back to prevent you from falling out of the cramped chair, "Oh come on," you whine before he chuckles.
"Air would do your brain good baby,"
You gasp in feigned disbelief, "Are you implying my brain isn't functioning?!"
"Exactly," he cheekily smiles, "You wanted to do your best didn't you? Go on a walk with me,"
"Ulterior motives are never gone unnoticed you sly fox," you roll your eyes but ultimately concede and get off the chair, immediately grabbing his jacket which was hanging off from the swivel chair.
"Hey," he scolds with no bite to his tone, an amused smile permanently etched on his face, "That's my jacket,"
"Then freeze," you stick your tongue out, childish and petty before he shakes his head, pulling out the extra hoodie he has brought for yourself and slots his fingers through your's, walking hand in hand as the both of you leave the warm comfort of the studio.
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"Y/N-ssi," a voice startles you as you jolt up in shock and see a figure emerge from the shadowy corner of the parking lot. "Who the hell are you," your voice doesn't waver in question, ready to set off the staff-specific alarm that could reach the security headquarters of the company.
"Calm down, miss idol, I'm just a journalist," he raises his hands in surrender as he approaches you, while you take a step back in each step he takes forward. "Stay there," you command. "What do you want?" you speak loudly, the distance between you a bit far but not enough to provide you with peace of mind.
He reaches into his pocket and brings out a few pictures, sliding it towards you making it skid on the floor, landing by your foot as you hesitantly look down not even bothering to pick it up. Your heart races a bit. It was quite the picture, and you aren't sure where the hell it was taken but you knew when. "I suppose you can connect that I know who your speculated male idol "friend" is," he starts to speak as you hold the urge to roll your eyes.
"And what exactly are you going to do with this information?" you challenge, raising a brow at him, "Oh the ususal, make sure all of Korea know that you're dating the one and only Bang Chan," he chuckles, "Imagine the noise that'll make,"
'Bingo,' pops into your head, almost unable to hold back your smile. "Go ahead," you shrug, "Let's see who'll be the villains of their stories," you turn your heel to leave the pictures on the floor, rushing to your car as he stands there very speechlessly, dumbfounded to what just happened.
You had faith in your fans. In STAY. And those who would do otherwise weren't fans of yours, nor of Chan's. It'll all be alright, you keep repeating to yourself.
Right after you get the fuck out of the parking lot. You've got some news to tell Chan.
"What?! Did he hurt you?!" his concerned voice rings through your ears as you sigh and lean your arms against the balcony of your apartment, "I'm fine baby, I promise," you assure him, "In hindsight I knew that was dangerous but I lucked out,"
"Lucked out?! You could've called me! Or anyone!"
"I'm fine now Chan, I promise," you run your fingers through your hair, "Although it seems like our number one concern here is when the news would be released,"
Seemingly taking a moment to recollect his bearings, you patiently wait for his response, "Alright, hit me with it,"
"I think he was about to ask me for money, I told him to go on ahead and release the picture," you nervously gnaw on your lower lip, "Should...should we start telling the company heads?"
"We definitely should baby, this is such crucial information," he says with his "leader voice" as you called it—ever so reliable and ever so stern—"And what's more crucial is the fact that you got into a paparazzi altercation alone,"
"Alright, alright, I'll tell them that too," you groan with slight annoyance. Chan loved to dote on you, was overly protective, and the fact that he had a point wasn't sitting well with you given your already prominent anxieties. "I'm not trying to nag! I'm just concerned over the welfare and safety of my girlfriend is that so much to see to?"
"Of course not," your pitch goes a bit higher, a bit whiny. "Of course not, I know you aren't trying to nag," you reiterate a little bit softly now, not wanting to fight with Chan over this.
It seems to placate him too, "Okay, I'll let it go for now too. What matters is that you're safe," he matches your soft tone, "But for the love of god don't ever do that again,"
"Yes, Christopher, I won't," you promise, no ounce of sarcasm or spite in your tone.
"Are you worried?" he asks. And you take a moment to answer. "Yes..."
"Okay. Okay, I'll be right there after my schedules," he in turn also promises, a sigh of relief escaping you because you were starting to get jittery over everything, "I'll have to go. I'll see you later baby,"
"Bye babe," you bid, "I love you,"
"I love you too, my baby,"
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"Something tells me you wanted to do it to terrorize Dispatch," you chuck your phone to the side and smile at Chan who simply shrugs his shoulder with a sly smile, "Maybe they'd hate to have us after all,"
"I highly doubt they'd leave us alone," you crawl up the bed and plop yourself down on top of his body, garnering a grunt from the man. "They never really did, haven't they,"
"More on you, less on me baby," he presses his lips together before looking down at you, "Which in itself, is regrettable,"
"You get used to it," you hum and close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his bare torso, "Thank you, Chris," you start as he hums and starts running his fingers through your hair. "Whatever for baby?"
"Everything," you simply state, opening your eyes again only to see the most sickening, fondest look from Chan. You could feel yourself getting emotional, heartstrings tugged and torn off your chest as the lump in your throat grow heavier. And suddenly you're crying.
"Y/N?" Chan worriedly sits up and wipes off your tears before pressing you further into his body, head cradled in his hand while he soothingly rubs your shoulder on the other, "What's wrong my love why are you crying?" he panics before you let out a wet chuckle, "I'm sorry, I just got...I dunno," you wipe your tears away with a slight feeling of sheepishness in your veins. "I guess I got too happy, like the anxiety from the past 3 months are just starting to go away," you explain to him as a relieved breath escapes him.
"That's good, isn't it?"
"Very," you look up at him with teary and shiny eyes, hoping that all the love threatening to burst at the seams inside you would translate to how you look. And you have a feeling that it does because he gently raises your jaw towards him and presses a tender kiss on your lips, immediately slipping his tongue for entrance as you gladly let him in.
It's short, curt, yet continuous kisses. Departing every half a second only to dive back down, deliciously loving and sweet as both of your breathings fall in sync against the silence of his room, orange and yellow hues from his lights dancing around dimly. It wasn't as magical, but it was comforting, and it was home.
"I love you so much Y/N," he proclaims in a whisper against your lips, like a secret vow as you hum and give him another short peck. "I love you most, Christopher,"
"Nuh-uh,"
"Fuck you mean nuh-uh," you laugh before leaning your head against his shoulder, a sigh of relief and decompression punched out of you. "Comeback season would be so different now,"
"Mhm," he keeps his gentle touches on your shoulder going, rubbing lightly, "The questions about you that I'd love to answer," he grins to himself making you giggle like a giddy school girl.
You both knew there were more of the invasive and inappropriate questions but hey, being an idol is fun when the people around you aren't assholes. Just like a normal 9 to 5.
"Oh the birthday stories I've been waiting to post," you tease, holding up his stash of less flattering pictures over his head as he rolls his eyes, "Oh two can play,"
"I'm photogenic I slay every angle," you retort. "You didn't date me for nothing,"
"Ah boo," he lazily responds before turning to you, "By the way, what if like, magazine outlets start to contact us?"
"Maybe let's wait another year to do activities together," you suggest, "More suspenseful that way,"
"True,"
You prop your hand up his chest and lay on your stomach, facing him, "But If you had to choose which outlet, what would it be?"
"The Korea Herald," he replies before you snort out a laugh, "I guess the Chan is 5 years older, here's what it does to their relationship articles aren't wrong,"
Looking at you scandalized he pinches your side making you let out a yelp. "I'm not that old! I'm just saying it's more reliable than Dispatch!"
"Sure old man," you roll your eyes at him, "I'd wanna do one with Bazaar,"
"With the photoshoot and everything?"
"Hey it isn't so bad to shoot high for power couple status,"
"Are you implying we aren't a power couple now?"
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The cameras flash against your eyes as you flinch a bit, about to put a hand over your eyes but Chan beats you to it, one hand over your shades and another on the brim of his cap. The reporters are shouting their questions at you, a little bit overwhelming and deafening but sure as hell your guards are letting them get a little too close.
"Suyin-ah! Does it bother you that Bang Chan is 5 years older?"
"Suyin-ah, if you've been dating for long aren't you guys tired?"
"Bang Chan-ah, out of all the pretty girls in your company why go for LLCE?"
"Bang Chan! Was Baby written for Suyin-ah?"
All invasive, nothing ever good. A grunt escapes you as Chan holds you closer looking down at you in concern while the guards try to make way for the both of you, "You alright there?"
"Never been better," you grimace with sarcasm before hearing a question that piques your interest, partly moving away from Chan to seek out the person who threw that question. "Suyin-ah, don't you think dating as a K-Pop idol is hopeless?"
You reach out, one of the security personnel doing you a favor to hand you the small mic of the journalist before pressing it near to your face, "I don't think so. Because at the end of the day Chan and I love our fans just the same, sharing our personal lives won't change that," you reason out, "Both of us would still continue to make music for our fans and cherish them all," you answer, short and profound before you could hear Chan's voice call out to you, finally able to form a path towards your building.
"Honey! Are you coming?" he shouts through the shouting crowds of reporters. You immediately step back, hurriedly heading to his direction, slipping your hands together before walking into the company hand in hand.
"What'd you say?" he questions once the glass doors close. You strip off your mask and beam up at him cheekily, "You'll see,"
i took the liberty of giving Y/N a stage name for the sake of making the tweets a bit more comprehensive. Suyin is derived from S/N, which is stage name. i just added a few more letters to it.
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feyhunter78 · 11 months
Text
Pink Pastels Pt 18
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Description: Miguel deals with Todd, and has a late night visitor—you.
Pt 19
The purr of car engines overhead, the slight rattling of the bridge, the coos of pigeons and the soft lapping of the waves fills Miguel's ears as he stares down at the waterlogged corpse at his feet.
“Lyla, how many people know about this?”
“About the mauled body of your new girlfriend's ex-boyfriend?” Lyla smirks, her heart shaped sunglasses low on her nose as she observes the scene.
Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Lyla, please just answer my question.”
“Just a few displaced people along the river, the Swedish shipping vessel that reported the sighting, and the Coast Guard has the call record, but since you got lucky with the currents and since I made a few more urgent calls to the Coast Guard, they haven't set eyes on him yet.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows at him.
“Thank you.” He says as he zips up the body bag and tosses it over his shoulder.
“So, what are you going to do with him?” She asks, flickering in and out of his masked vision.
“Acid.”
“Acid? Lame.” Lyla huffs.
He snorts. “It's quick, efficient, and less likely to leave a trace.”
“Yeah, but wasn't he like a total dick to y/n?”
He grunts in response as he swings through the city until he finds the disposal grounds of Janson Inc, the manufacturing company you mentioned Todd works for.
“I mean, I thought you'd go way more psycho than you did.” She says, laughter on the horizon of her tone.
“Lyla” He warns, as he heaves the body bag containing Todd into the acid, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as the fabric, flesh, and bone dissolve.
“Ok, ok, I'm just saying, I think I know you pretty well and-”
“I want him forgotten, I want y/n to forget about him.”
Lyla says nothing for a moment, then sighs heavily. “Miguel…you know it doesn't work like that. You might have been able to easily replace this universe's version of you, but that doesn't mean you can just as easily replace Todd.”
Miguel turns from the acid, the surrounding area bathed in a sickly green glow. “I know.”
“And you know y/n's different from Ana, Xina, Dana, and even Tempest, she cares about you, about Gabi. She really cares about Gabi. She's not just going to jump you now that her ex-boyfriend is gone. She's going to weigh the consequences.”
A smirk tugs at his lips, and for a moment his mind supplies him with the memory of you begging for him, his name on your lips like a fervent plea as you fall apart on his thigh. Of the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you reached for him in the doorway of your apartment.
He grunts in response. He knows you, better than you know he does, better than Todd did, perhaps better than anyone else in the world. You'll weigh the consequences, but that doesn't mean he can't try to lighten the load.
“Okay, Mr. Stupid and Silent, don't believe me. It's your funeral.” Lyla huffs before her form flickers out, and he's left alone in the dark.
Miguel unlocks the door to his apartment and silently pads through the quiet space.
Gabi's asleep, he knows this. You're asleep, he knows this. He should also be asleep, but he's filled with a nameless emotion--an anxious energy raging against the edges of sleep that are threatening to creep in on him.
He sits at his desk, flipping through security feeds, ensuring there's no record of him. He's clean, there's no trace of him or Todd.
He was smart, made sure no one would see when he broke into Todd's apartment and knocked him out.
No one noticed as he carried Todd's unconscious body to an abandoned warehouse, and no one heard Todd's screams as he tore into him, leaving him a mangled mess that Miguel finally dangled him off the bridge.
He watched unflinching as Todd plummeted. The sound of Todd's body slamming into the water echoed off the banks, and Miguel waited until he sank to return to his apartment.
No one would ever know. He got away clean.
“Hey Boss? Y/N's here.” Lyla says, her words hitting him a millisecond before he hears your soft knocking on his door.
He bolts up, running a hand through his hair and checking his appearance in the hall mirror before he swings open the door to see you. Perfect, perfect you.
Your hair is loose, hanging free, and you're clad in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweatshirt.
Are you wearing pants under that? Shorts? Is this a seduction tactic? Because it's working.
“Hey, I'm sorry, I know it's late, but I just...” You wave your hands helplessly, your nails are pink, a pretty pearlescent pink.
He reaches out to catch one of your hands in one of his, squeezing it slightly. “Don't apologize, I’m more than willing to help, whatever it is.”
You give him an embarrassed smile. “Okay, so, it's a new apartment and I swear I keep hearing all these noises, and I know it’s childish but...would you come and take a look? Make sure there's nothing there?”
He's in love with you, fully, completely, unreservedly.
“Of course, y/n, I felt the same way when I moved in. The building is a bit older, there are lots of creaks and groans.”
He follows you to your apartment as he says this, and you look back at him in surprise. “You were scared?”
He chuckles sheepishly. “Actually, Gabi was, I just wanted to make you feel better.”
You smile and duck your head. “I appreciate the effort."
You hold the door open for him, then stand in your lit kitchen, your arms wrapped around yourself. Your bare thighs are exposed by the rising fabric of your sweatshirt, and he averts his eyes. 
He strangles his desire to sink to his knees and grip the soft flesh of your thighs, to wrench them apart and bury his face between them. To watch you come apart on his tongue as the sounds of your pleas and moans fill the air.
“I feel like I heard something near the balcony. You say, tearing him from his thoughts.
“I’ll go check.” He tells you, making his way towards your balcony, his senses on high alert even though he knows there's nothing.
It's an older building, Gabi was scared when they first moved in, that much is true. But there's nothing to be scared of, he's ensured that. In fact, this building, this block might be the safest in all of Nueva York.
Miguel throws open your balcony door and makes a show of checking every inch. He's rewarded by your soft laugh.
“All clear?” You take a half step forward, a smile playing at your lips, the lingering traces of sleep still gracing your expression.
“All clear. Anywhere else you want me to check?”
You nod towards your bedroom. “I swear I heard shuffling in my bathroom.”
He waits at your door, looking back at you. “Through here?”
You breeze past him and sit cross-legged on the edge of your bed. “The door on the left.”
He pushes the door open and flicks on the light. He's seen this room already, through your necklace, but standing there, on your plush, pastel purple bath mat, looking into your mirror, the mirror he's admired your bare body in, sends him into a tailspin.
“You see anything?” You call softly.
He shakes his head. “Nothing, no monsters lurking in between your towels.
“I didn't think there were monsters." You mumble, padding over to him, your scent hitting him like a freight train.
Has it always been this strong, or was it because he's in your home and everything around him screams y/n?
He inhales deeply, his fingers curling around the edge of your sink, his eyes closed as he fights to calm himself.
“Miguel? Are you okay?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.
He pulls you forward, pressing your back against the sink, his arms on either side caging you in.
You look up at him with an adorable expression of surprise, as if you hadn't seen his agility when he was disguised as Spiderman. “Miguel?”
He steels himself, even as he feels the plaster of your sink give beneath his fingers. He'll fix that later.
“Pancakes or French Toast?”
“I'm sorry?” You ask stunned.
“For breakfast, cariño, which would you prefer?” He forces the words out, prays they're smooth and unassuming.
You smile up at him, and he feels his stomach flip. It's a childish thing, for a small smile to affect him this way.
“Oh, pancakes please, and I can help you cook if you need.”
You're so sweet.
“No, no, mi vida, I'm cooking. All you need to do is keep me company.”
Your eyes follow the movement of his lips, and his nostrils flare when he smells the arousal wafting off you.
“Are you sure? I really don't mind.” You insist, palms resting against his chest.
He leans down and presses a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “I'm sure, now goodnight y/n.”
Then he leaves you there and heads back to his apartment, his head spinning, your scent still lingering around him.
Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars
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milesmolasses · 1 year
Text
Don't Blame Me
miles morales x reader
warnings: nothing i can think of
basically, you and Miles are a cute little couple, and you help him dye his hair at midnight (he has waves)
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The time was 12.34pm EST, and most of the apartments in Ocean Hill Brooklyn had their lights off and curtains closed. You and Miles were in a 24HR drug store across the street from his apartment, checking out their hair supplies aisle- just when you were about to grab your hair mask treatment, Miles came running to you from halfway down the aisle.
"YEOOOOO, look what I found! We finna bring the demons out tonight," he said in a playful, scratchy tone. You looked at what he had in his hand and saw the platinum blonde hair dye he was holding.
"You wanna be Frank Ocean so damn bad, don't you? You know you're destroying your hair if you do that, right?"
"Nah, I've had virgin hair for forever; my hair can't get ruined after dying it once. That's just stupid," he waved his hand dismissively to my comment on him literally killing his beautiful hair.
"Miles use your head: it's 12 in the morning, and you aren't thinking straight. Trust, you don't want to do this and wake up in the morning regretting shit," I tried to grab the dye out of his hand, but he held onto the box with such a tight grip and a determined look on his cute face, really telling me he wanted to do this.
"No, no no no no, I am thinking straight; believe me, I have thought about this a lot. I can show you my Pinterest hair board right now, and it's full of niggas with blonde waves. Frank Ocean is calling my name Y/N, PLEASE let me do this," he went on and on. He looked at me with a pleading look in his eye, attempting a cute puppy dog face with his chapped pouty lips.
"... A'ight fine, but we getting you some damn chapstick with your cracked ass lips."
"Alright not too much on me, baby. You gon help me dye it though?"
It felt as if he was counting on me to say yes, so I agreed to help him dye his hair. We soon walked up to the register with my hair mask and a new conditioner for his hair, a bag of mini KitKats, the blonde dye, and some Vaseline. I paid for the items, wondering how much I would have to apologize to Rio for destroying her sons hair.
As we walked back to his place, we stopped by the deli to pick up some more snacks- two bags of chips, jolly ranchers, and a sandwich for Miles. We made it back and quietly snuck upstairs to the bathroom, but not without first dropping the food off in Miles's room. We made our way to the bathroom with the dye and the purple conditioner/toner, and I made Miles sit down on the edge of the bath tub while I prepped all the supplies.
"You're a W girlfriend for dying my hair and buying me snacks..." I was having my doubts about this whole "dying my boyfriend's hair thing" because I really didn't want to be the cause of something Miles might regret later on. Also, I kinda liked his regular black hair- I thought it was cute, plus he already had waves, so I didn't get why he wanted to dye his hair on top of that.
"Look, don't be upset with me, ok? I've been actually wanting to do this for the longest time, and I really do appreciate you doing this for me."
"Oh Miles, I'm not upset with you. C'mon, you know I love you but I'm just a little worried about how this will all turn out. I don't want you to regret this later on. Plus keeping up with dyed hair is expensive as fuck, bro," he looked at me again, this time, without the puppy dog looks; more like a sad and disappointed seal. He didn't want to make me worried I could tell.
"Alright look, imma dye it, fix up your hair, and we'll see how it looks unwrapped in the morning, is that ok?" He smiled and took my hand kissing it softly while looking up at me.
"Perfect."
And so I got to work, giving him a towel to drape over his shoulders, bleaching his hair while listening to his moans and groans about how much it burned, putting in the platinum color in his hair, and toning it after. We washed his hair and dried it with a t-shirt, added light amounts of pomade to his hair, finger waved and brushed it, and finally came the durag.
"How did it look? You was the one doin' it, so tell me, how did it look?"
"You gonna have to find out when you wake up tomorrow. Yo, lemme crash here. I'm mad tired right now," I walked out of the bathroom, already knowing his answer to my question. I walked my way back to his room, opening the black deli bag of snacks.
He turned on the ceiling projector which showed what seemed like trillions of little life-like stars on his ceiling. He plopped down onto his bed with me, turning to the bag to grab his sandwich as we stared at the ceiling projector eating our food.
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The sunlight crept through Miles's curtains, basking us in the warm indication that a new day had arrived. My eyes blinked slowly and steadily as I shuffled through the bed I was lying in. I looked to my right and saw that the bed was empty and called out "Miles" absentmindedly.
"I'm in here," he yelled out of what I assumed was his bathroom. I rubbed my eyes as I strolled out of his bed and towards his bathroom. I walked in on a sight to behold;
A Miles I had never seen before was staring straight into the mirror, rubbing the neat blonde waves on the top of his head, smiling a smile I had never seen before.
"You are amazing. I can't believe this is what I look like, holy shit.." his smile grew even larger than before when his eyes finally met mine.
"Oh my lord, look at my mannnn," I squealed as I put my hands over my mouth in shock. Of course, I knew what the waves had looked like— I'm the one who did his hair— but seeing him so happy with my finished work made me even happier with myself and Miles.
"Me and Frank Ocean are literally twinning right now."
"He prolly don't even have them blonde waves no more."
"Why can't you just let me be happy?"
I laughed at his straight face when he said that, knowing it was only a joke. I walked closer to him so that we were both seen in the mirror, just looking at each other. He placed his hands on my shoulder as he kissed the top of my head. Something about this kiss screamed "thank you" or "I love you for this," and it made me feel warm inside as I stared into his eyes through the mirror.
Suddenly, as if he had just come to a realization, he whispered, "I gotta show my mom... shit"
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AYEEEE this took me so long to write for literally no reason
can u tell how much i love frank ocean? lol
I DO NOT CONDONE SLEEPING IN BED WITH YOUR OUTSIDE CLOTHES! THAT SHIT IS DIRTY!
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melrodrigo · 11 months
Text
Tardy, part 7
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: You guys devise a plan to stop Ghostface once and for all, but some shocking news stops you in your tracks.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, a little angst, my attempt at humor
A/N: Never mind y’all I just got motivation out of no where last night and apparently I can still write! This one’s kinda short…but I hope u like <3
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You don't get to planning the demise of a certain wimpy pea faced masked killer as fast as you'd like.
You'd expected Sam to call the rest of the group and discuss details immediately; but that hasn't happened yet.
It's really starting to annoy you, but you can't even move far enough to grab your phone without help; so you relent and figure you'll kill the fucker when you can actually stand.
The only bright side, it seems; is Tara. She hasn't left your side for even a minute during the whole debacle.
She's gotten more comfortable, you can tell. Even gotten so brave as to come sit on the armchair beside yours.
Your anger has simmered down into a calm sea of peace; and you're starting to feel a bit bad for the indifferent way you've been treating her.
It's impossible to say you don't still care for Tara, in fact; you care a lot more than you probably should. The feeling is so overwhelming you can sense it's tendrils wrapping around you; threatening to engulf you whole.
Stupid, stupid feelings.
You tilt your head and look at her now, wonder if she feels the same.
Almost like she can feel your gaze, she turns and cranes her neck at you.
"Do you need anything?" She asks, flipping over the page of the book she was currently reading.
You don't trust your voice to come out as anything but a strangled whimper, so you nod.
She sits up immediately, practically jumping off the piece of furniture.
"Oh thank god! This book is so boring." She huffs, eyes brightening up as she gets closer.
She walks up to you and folds your shirt up, enough to show your wound. She examines it slowly, lips pursed.
"You know...maybe we should take you to a hospital? It doesn't really look any better." She states, staring intently.
You suddenly feel small underneath her intense gaze; and you wiggle a bit.
You weren't exactly at your best, since you'd been practically glued to the couch for days; apart from the occasional shower and a brush of the teeth.
"Tara?" You rasp, making her look at you; worry in her eyes.
"Yeah? You okay?"
You shake your head no, motion for her to come over. She looks downright stressed.
"Why? What's wrong?" She asks, reaching out to touch your face but stopping short, hesitance clear in her expression.
You muster the strength to bring your arm up to grab her hand, lay it down on your chest; intertwined.
"I'm sorry for being such a dick lately." You say, breathe in heavily.
"It was uncool of me. And I was wondering if you...would maybe want to be my girlfriend again?" It comes out as a soft whisper, and you watch as Tara's face changes from worried to unreadable.
Oh god.
"I mean- uh it's just that I think we might be better off as like girlfriends and I didn't really mean what I said before, I was mad you know? But it’s totally fine if you don’t-" She cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, soft and tender.
You melt into it immediately. Her hands fly to cup your cheeks, and yours press against her neck; pulling her closer.
You guys stay like that for a bit until Tara pulls away, breathlessly.
"I'm sorry too. I was being a bitch, and I should've listened to you. I promise I'll be better this time." She says, chewing on her bottom lip.
You pull her down, taking her by surprise and making her stumble and land right on you.
You let out a groan at the contact and peer down at your wound.
She retracts immediately, mumbling a million sorry's.
"It's okay Tar, come on. Come here." You wave with your hands, let her rest her head on your chest.
She doesn't press herself into you in fears that it'll hurt you, and it's the most straining and uncomfortable position she's ever been in; but she doesn't pull away.
"This is like doing a plank." She says, eyes sparkling with amusement.
You shake your head and smirk. Tilt her face up to yours again and kiss her.
"Shut up."
And she does.
-
The sound of your phone ringing is what wakes both you and Tara up. She stirs, then immediately tightens up; like she has a flight or fight response to the sound of it.
Oh wait, she does. You realize dumbly.
"It's okay. Everything's fine, could you just grab me the phone sweetheart?" You murmur, rubbing the top of her head in small circles.
She wearily gets up on her knees and reaches for the phone from the couch. It's too far; and she doesn't want to leave your body for at least 3-5 more business days.
"Woah!" She squeaks, loosing her balance and falling with a loud smack onto the rug.
You can't control the giggle that stumbles from your lips; almost on reflex. You quickly realize your error and shut up.
It's too late; because Tara turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. Then she lets out a giggle too, smiling so wide you can see her dimples.
It's a small moment, but it means everything.
It almost feels like the past few days have never happened and Tara's still freshly your girlfriend. Floating in nothing but love-filled teasing bliss.
She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your phone ringing again.
"Jesus christ they won't stop calling." Tara says, slightly annoyed at the intrusion on your moment.
She hands it over to you without looking at the contact, and you scrunch your eyebrows at the unknown number.
"Hello?" You muse as you bring your phone to your ear, still staring at Tara with a playful smirk.
It falls immediately when you hear the distorted deep voice.
"Hello YN."
Your breath hitches, but you don't want to alarm Tara; so you smile at her reassuringly.
"Hey bro, what up?" You say, with all the nonchalance of talking to a close friend.
"Bro? What the hell are you talking abou-" Ghostface starts, but you cut him off immediately.
"Oh yeah yeah, I'm still in uni. I hope you're not getting into any trouble like you always do?" You continue; pursing your lips.
Maybe you'll just pretend for the rest of the conversation and not tell Tara.
"Oh Yn, you don't even know what kind of trouble I'm about to get you into." He says, tone teasing and taunting.
Your chest tightens up a bit. What does he have on you? He's bluffing, he has to be…right?
"That is so fun, but I kinda have to get back to my amazing girlfriend now; you don't mind if I hang up do you?" You smile, eyes flitting up and down Tara's small frame.
She's sitting, quite adorably, on the floor. Looking up at you with curious but shining eyes.
"Don't you dare hang up or I'm going to split you from groin to ster-" You pull the phone from your ear and press the red button.
"Well that was a little rude." She tuts, scooting closer.
You chuckle.
"Can I help it that my girlfriend is the best-est person in the world and I wanna spend every minute with her?" You ask, nudging her nose with yours.
"Best-est, huh?" She smirks, leaning in impossibly closer.
You're about to lean down and kiss Tara but it twists your wound the wrong way and you hiss.
She brings her hand up to your face and caresses the skin of your cheek.
"You okay?" She asks, brows furrowed.
You're not, and you think it might even be getting worse like she suspected; but you don't tell Tara. Instead you nod your head and give her a tight lipped smile.
She grins, and closes the distance between the two of you. She gets up off the floor and climbs on top of you so you don't have to strain your neck. She does all of this with your lips connected, and you silently marvel at her skill.
"I know you guys just got back together, but can you stop eating each other's faces right now?" Sam interrupts, quite rudely you might add.
Tara pulls away reluctantly and wipes at her mouth. She looks flushed.
"We weren't even doing anything."She mumbles underneath her breath.
"Let them be Sam, I don't think I can take another day of Tara whining about how she's not with YN anymore." Mindy says, waltzing into the room after Sam.
You cock an eyebrow at Tara, but she avoids your eye; blush creeping up her neck.
"Nice job, by the way T." Mindy adds, clicking her tongue and shooting a finger gun at the girl.
You notice the rest of the group behind them, Chad, Ethan, Anika, and some other strange man at the back.
He must see your lingering stare on him because he's moving forward and offering a hand to you.
"Danny." He rasps, mouth turned in a crooked smile.
Okay, kind of hot. You think.
"I'm Sam's..." He trails off, sending a questioning look at the older Carpenter sister.
"Danny's my boyfriend." Sam answers, and out the corner of your eye you see Danny smile a little wider.
That's cute.
"Nice to meet you Danny." You say, shaking his hand eagerly.
"So, we're all here because we need to devise a plan. To catch ghostface, once and for all." Sam says, walking to the front of the living room.
"And what exactly is your plan?" Tara asks, moving beside you and taking your hand in hers.
You notice Sam biting the inside of her cheek as she thinks.
"I'm not sure yet, that's why I all asked you here." She says.
There's a moment of silence as anyone thinks of something to say. You try to think back to your interactions with him.
"We could make a suspect list? I'm sure Mindy has a lot of theories on her mind." You suggest, glancing over at the twin.
"Yes! Thank you for bringing that up YN. Sam, move it's my time to shine." She walks up to Sam, gently nudging the Carpenter to sit on the couch.
"So we all know Ghostface has some sort of beef with all of us, but from the attacks we can assume he hates Tara and YN the most." She starts, hands on her hips.
"We know Ghostface isn't really that strong. Either that or YN is just one hell of a fighter." Mindy says, gesturing to you.
You smile shyly at the heads that turn toward you.
"Can I add something? Back on the balcony, where I got attacked; Ghostface seemed kind of...small." You say, pursing your lips in deep remembrance.
"Like, way shorter than the one that attacked me and Tara on that roof. So I think there might be two." You finish.
Mindy nods, like she was already expecting you to say this.
"It's always been two killers, except for Roman Bridger; kudos to him for ambition."
Chad raises his hand, waiting for Mindy's approval before he speaks. She nods toward him.
"Could we assume the first ghostface was a guy? Because we all saw him, and he looked pretty damn big."
You shake your head in agreement, trying to think back on the night up on the roof. It's sort of hard because all you can remember is Tara kissing you for the first time.
Even after what had happened, you still considered that to be one of the best nights of your life.
What a simp.
"Now! Let's move on to our suspects..." Mindy says faintly, but you're not really focused now. You'd rather daydream about the girl sitting beside you.
The group ends up picking your apartment as the spot for Ghostface's Demise. You'd actually been the one to suggest it yourself, it's relatively big; and didn't have one too many hiding places for him to surprise y'all in.
Tara moves to sit on your lap as you continue to plan. Papers are strewn everywhere, multiple empty coffee cups on the table. You've drawn out a map of the layout, and Sam's made it her personal mission to storyboard the whole attack.
Despite the reason for for your gathering, you can't help but smile a little at everyone huddled together. They look like a real family.
Quiet laughs are occasionally let out, teasing and poking fun about how Ghostface is gonna attack. You sort of enjoy it.
The doorbell rings and catches only yours and Tara's attention. The rest of them are still in heated discussion about whether Ghostface or Voldemort would win in a battle.
It's Voldemort, obviously.
"I'll go get it." Tara whispers, planting a firm peck to your lips and standing up. You nod, let her untangle herself from you.
You sit a bit longer until you start getting antsy. It's been five minutes since Tara went and you’re getting a tad worried.
Has she been kidnapped by Ghostface or something?
She steps into the room now, and you smile at her; breathe out in relief.
You see a tiny envelope in her hands. It's ripped; and she's reading the inside.
"Any mail for me honey?" You ask teasingly, pushing yourself up on the couch slightly.
You don't notice the serious expression on her face till she tilts it up, eyes dark.
She doesn't answer as she strides to you, shoving the paper in your hands; arms crossed. She looks hurt.
"Care to explain?"
You frown, look down at the piece of crumpled paper. It's a DNA test.
At the top of the page it says:
DNA REPORT TEST
(For Personal Knowledge Only)
There's two boxes that fill up the whole paper. You stare at it, mouth agape.
It says:
CHILD (YN)
Alleged Father (Stu Macher)
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sickuma · 11 months
Text
SAUDADE — a Leon fic.
❱ It's my first time using tumblr again in a really long time so I have no clue what is happening!!! I'm trying my best to make this look presentable (T-T) there are no other fonts, and the color text options are limited *riots* but it's fine, I can work with this.  
As some of you may know this fic is originally from an au i made on tiktok yesterday! I'm gonna continue this one to test tumblr and see how it goes :D this is unedited! there may be errors | spelling or grammatical errors.
➴ SYNOPSIS — Leon desperately clings to the remnants of you. Avoiding any sign of acceptance that you're gone.
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SAUDADE — (n.) A nostalgic longing to be near again to something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; "the love that remains."
—To say he's lost would be an understatement, he feels so much more than just lost. He sat on the floor, leaning on the bed for support as he stared at the void,
He wondered, what's the point? What's left for him to keep going? Maybe if he'd wreck his life, maybe if he did unspeakable things,
Maybe then you'd come back just to scold him. Give him an earful about how stupid he is. He chuckled shortly, though it sounded desolate. Almost hollow.
He stared down at a shirt he held tightly, your shirt. He clung to it, nuzzling his face deep into the piece of cloth, desperate to inhale what's left of your scent stuck on the fabric. He wished it wouldn't go away, but as days went by, your scent vanished.
It was as if he'd lost you the second time. He hated how pathetic he felt, he hated how much he cried but all this self hatred was never enough to mask the guilt, the grief, the longing. He needs you,
He needs you back. 
The air was suffocating, it's as if you took his heart and lungs with you the day you passed. But that's not possible, he can feel everything. His heart is here, away from where you are. He couldn't accept it, will he ever? 
He reached for his phone from where he'd abandoned it, sitting back down on the hard floor. He stared at the screen, dried tears visible from his face.
If you were here, you'd have wiped them before they got the chance to dry up.
His eyes flickered with bitterness. He despised his state, he was a mess. The corner of his eyes wrinkled as he frowned, turning the phone on and clicking your number to dial.
It's his nightly routine ever since you've been gone. With hitched breath, he would call you, knowing you wouldn't answer. It's unhealthy—the lump on his throat felt deadly.
He would call you over a dozen times, staring at the ringing phone, until your voicemail plays,
"Not in the proximity of answering, call you back when I can!"
He listened intently, eyes glistening with tears that threatened to fall. He finds himself crying yet again,
Your voice, It was the only remaining remnant of you he could hold onto. It's also the reason for his tears every 4 am, when he'd long to hear you. Wishing he could feel your gentle touch wipe his tears,
He hated how the smallest details of you slowly wither away from his mind. The look in your eyes, their color, how soft your hair felt, the beauty marks he adored.
He despised how easily they wilt away, as if his own mind protects him from his despair. Despite that, he'd frantically search for his phone to stare at a photo of you,
Taking in every detail.
Desperately memorizing all parts of you, everything he loved the most. He needed it to stay, he can't forget you, 
It would feel as if he's betraying you.
"[name] just why—" he paused, "Why did you have to be the one to go? Why can't it be someone else?"
His voice broke. He sounded weak, vulnerable. Voice rough from a week long of crying, and not speaking to anyone. He is indeed a mess, crying for you as if doing so would bring you back. 
He threw his head back, rubbing his face with a heavy sigh. It felt heavy, almost heavy enough to bring him down. He couldn't take it, he needed you back, it felt as if he's on the verge of breaking apart.
"How could you leave me?"
His hands stayed covering his face, as he wept, as he sobbed. Uncontrollably crying, the pain on his heart clouding his rational thoughts,
He'd felt bad for not visiting your grave but he couldn't. Not another step close to where you rest, his body had already trembled uncontrollably. He couldn't do it,
He can't last longer than a few seconds, especially not around anybody else. He had felt terrible for not attending the funeral, and for spending the whole day desperately searching for something—anything—that can possibly be a remedy for his ache,
He'd grip your clothes, hold the sheet of the bed you once laid on tightly close to him, desperate to inhale your presence. Desperate for any sign that would convince him you're still here,
"I can't… I really can't."
He broke down, not caring if he'd look crazy. He spoke as if you were there with him, like he wished, "
How could emptiness feel so heavy? You'd left, leaving a void for him to fill, but what could ever fill the void of losing one's love, of one's wonderwall, of one's reason to live. What could possibly heal him?
He swallowed hard, wiping his face as he looked up. Attempting to stand up, he's pretty sure he'd knock some things over by doing so,
He lays on the bed, grabbing the blanket the both of you used. Holding it near his face, covering half of him as he laid sideways, hugging the blanket which once kept him warm next to you, hoping he'd retrieve the same warmth. 
"Come back please." 
He closed his eyes shut, inhaling what's left of your scent. Tears brimming on his eyes,
"Come back to me."
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atlaserine · 11 days
Text
Villain stared at the hero trapped and tied in a chair in his lair.
"This is 1 A.M" Villain said, half awake and half annoyed that one of his henchman had awoken him from slumber just to report that someone has infiltrated his lair. That someone who's now sitting right in front if him with her mask taken off.
Hero looked down with a bit of embarrassment. She wasn't one to back out from a fight, nor was she one to ask for help, especially from the biggest threat in her profession. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Speak" Villain's voice snapping hero out from her mind as she looked up to him. His voice that has gotten down an octave made it clear that he wanted to finish this quickly, or maybe finish her quickly and get back to bed.
"I need your help" It came out of the Hero's mouth too fast. And before she could regret it while hoping Villain hadn't heard her, Villains eyebrow was already raised, studying Hero with a glint of curiosity and interest in his eyes, debating whether he should listen to her or just finish this off once and for all.
The hero? The city's greatest hero asking for her enemy's help? The one who's been a thorn on his side for years asking for his help? One of her enemy must've hit her in the head too hard, The Villain thinks.
Looking at Villains face made her bit her lower lip nervously, all the regret of coming here coming right at her like a train.
"Look, I know what you're thinking. B-but you're the only one who's ever seen me without my mask. Not Sidekick, not Superhero, not even the Agency-"
And it was true. Hero chose to kept her identity a secret, strictly, wanting to protect the people closest to her and also living a double life. One as a hero and one as a normal citizen...untill she met Villain. The only one who's able to locate everything about her, the only villain who's ever gotten her so close to death. But that's a story for another time.
Hero took a deep breath before she fixed her posture a bit in what little space she had between the ropes and the chair. She tilted her head up and stared back at Villain.
"...Someones following me, I mean the citizen me. And I don't know who they are, I don't know what their intention is, I tried to just ignore them but it has gotten to a point where I saw them standing beside my apartment building when I wanted to get back after my shift- a-and im afraid they'll connect the dots and find out that I'm Hero. S-so I...ran.."
Hero shrugged her shoulder as she heard herself speak, she felt truly pathetic for this. She was a hero, she shouldn't have..run. But the possibility of another person knowing her secret was too high. So, the hero continued,
"I... came here because I didn't know...where else to go. I- i'll do anything, I promise. Just help me get whoever this is out of my tail...without killing them and I know you have some sort of- high tech machine to do that. Surely, a...an evil genius like you could come up with something!"
Villains eyes widened as Hero said all that. Never in his life has he seen the all mighty, all righteous, all stubborn Hero so...so stupid. Yet it did humoured him a bit. And after what felt like hours of staring at each other, Villain smiled, chuckled even. Leaned down untill he was face to face with Hero, a smirk forming in his face
"God, you are desperate are you?"
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junipers-archive · 1 year
Note
Hi !!! I love your fics so much! They make me physically feel things and that’s the best feeling 🥹 if you do requests could you write something with Spencer where his gf is still at uni and just really overwhelmed with studying or writing stuff because she procrastinates do badly and she like blames herself but he makes it all better and looks after her ?🥹
Thank you sm!! honestly I needed this bc I've been over-working myself too :')
You were tired, no, beyond tried you were drained, worn out and fatigued. But to be fair, it was your own fault, you were the one who had insisted on persuing a phd, but unlike Spencer it was your first one. And you didn't think it'd be this hard.
But thats beside the fact, as of current you were on your way to meet said boyfriend for lunch.
When you finally get to the agreed resturaunt you can barley hold yourself up, it'd been a tough night you'd had three exams upcoming and you'd unwisely decided to pull an all-nighter.
When you see him a wave of relief follows as you basically flop against him. And maybe its the way you start to shake or the silent sighs you let out while clinging to him but you don't realize he's led you back to your car until you look up.
"Where are your keys?" he's looking down at you with a concerned expression and you can't hold back your tears now.
"W-what are you doing?"
He tilts his head like you've said the most absurd thing in the world, finding the keys in your purse and opening the car.
Once you're both inside he finally answers, "We are going home."
You feel terrible, all he wanted to do was eat lunch, he took time out of his busy schedule and now he has to take care of you?
"You-You don't have to Spence, I-I'm sorry, I just, I had a hard time studying because my professor she wanted an essay by the end of the week and I procrastinated and it's all my fault i'm so stupid-"
He silences you as he puts his hand over yours, reaching over as he drives you both home, squeezing it comfortingly.
"I know. I know Y/n, I was a phd student too and I know. And you're not stupid, you're just tired. It's okay to be tired."
Those words alone make your heart clench.
When you get home to your shared apartment he carries you bridal style despite your attempts to disuade him.
He lays you down on your couch, placing the fluffiest blanket you own on top. Kissing your forehead as he relieves you of his warm arms.
"I'll be right back." You're about to argue for him to go back to work but he pecks your lips, letting them linger sweetly before you can.
He returns with his hands filled with your favorite tea, two facemasks, an entire cookie can, a menu and more.
About to question him he answers like he can read your mind,
"For take out! Remember that Chinese place we were looking at?"
He sits down on the other side of the comfy sage couch, lifting your feet to rest on his lap and replacing your thin no-show socks with fuzzy penguin ones, turning on the tv he hands you the remote.
The tea is placed beside you on the coffee table, the cookie can sits between you and once he orders from the menu he helps you apply the face masks.
Funnily enough he grabbed the only ones you had that were animal themed, and when you're both 'exfoliating' and relaxing he looks like panda and you a duckling.
You watch 'Star Wars: Return Of The Jedi' and he answers the door when the takeout gets there.
As you're eating Kung-pow chicken, snuggled against him, now changed into your comfiest pjs you realize you'd forgotten to say thank you. But nothing seems like a big enough thanks for what he's done, so you reach over to squeeze his hand, and he gets it instantly.
"There's no need, its my job to take care of you. I love you. You're my person." And he's smiling and he's perfect and you think then that you could sit here in this moment for the rest of your life.
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yourheartonfire · 2 years
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Six months. The protagonist wasn't usually one who cared overly much about silly, made up milestones like 'six month anniversaries' but this time, this felt different. This partner was different. Never had the protagonist felt so seen, so valued. They'd been watching the clock all day, fizzing with happiness, looking forward to their evening and the "big surprise" their partner had promised.
Until their partner crashed through the plate glass window of their apartment two hours early, bloodied and in a half-destroyed villain costume, eyes wild with shock to see protagonist sitting there.
"NO!" their partner - the villain? - howled, staring at the protagonist as if they were the one who'd just smashed their way through a fourth story window. "It's not possible!"
The protagonist sat stunned at their stupid little home office desk, jaw dropped and excel spreadsheet half done. They had no resistance as the villain (their partner?!) stormed up and yanked them to their feet, searching their face like it was suddenly unfamiliar territory.
"How? How!" the villain raged, thumb dragging across the protagonist's cheekbone as their other hand held them tightly in place. "Shape-shifting? Super-healing?"
"Uhhhh...?" the protagonist said with thrilling eloquence. Their partner - the villain - had always been touchy, deliciously touchy in ways that thrilled the protagonist. This was different, but so, so frighteningly close to the same.
Their partner spun away, grabbed up the TV remote to turn it from background music to cable news. There was their city's hero live from the aftermath of some fresh disaster, charming the members of the press interviewing them. Blood dripped from under their mask from a thin gash across their face.
"How?"the villain exclaimed, no longer meeting the protagonist's eyes. "Delayed tape? A body double?"
Slowly, the protagonist sat back down in their dumb little office chair. "You thought I was [Hero]?" they whispered in a tight, high voice.
The villain threw the remote into the television. It stuck in the middle of the LED screen in the middle of Hero's forehead. "You are [Hero]!" they shouted. "You have to be!" They grabbed protagonist by the forearm, turned their wrist to show the scar running up their arm. "January 3rd. Compound fracture of the radius and ulna."
"Yeah, in a car accident," the protagonist said. "You thought I was [Hero]?"
"May 7, another broken arm." The villain's eyes were wide and wild. Their hand shook around the protagonist's wrist. "July 29, a stab wound you got them to record as a burst appendix."
"It was a burst appendix." The protagonist jerked away, wrapping their arms tightly around themselves. "And I didn't break my arm again, it was a complication."
Their partner fell silent. The protagonist dropped their eyes, face burning. In the sudden quiet, the hero's tinny laugh echoed from the broken television.
The villain swore and sat down on the couch. As an afterthought, they threw the paperweight off the coffee table. It smacked into the television off button with pinpoint precision.
"I should've known this was too good to be true," the protagonist said. Now the tears were coming - overflowing, to add bloodshot eyes to that red flush. Real ugly crying, the protagonist was sure, but that hardly mattered now. "Now you're gonna kill me-"
"No!" the villain snapped, jerking their head up. "I would never hurt you! You're my... um."
"I'm your what?" The protagonist wiped their nose on their sleeve and stood. "You clearly have no idea who I am if you thought I somehow had time for a crime-fighting alter ego!"
"Hey!" Their partner stood too. "You didn't know who I was."
The protagonist picked up their mug of pencils and threw it. Not hard, just to the ground, but partner had the right idea. It felt good. "Of course I knew!" they screamed. "You can't date someone six months and not notice when they disappear mysteriously on a regular basis!"
The villain blinked. "No," they said, but with uncertainty in their eyes. "You're a fundamentally decent person - that was part of the profile. You wouldn't date me."
"Well, I disagree with your methods but think you have some valid points," the protagonist sniffed. "I figured we'd talk about it when you were ready to tell me, your completely normal civilian partner. I didn't think you thought I was some fucking goody two shoes narc!"
The villain - their partner - was staring. Tilted their head the other way. Eyes bright and over-focused in that x-ray look they had. "Well," their partner said, in that deep voice that always sent shivers down the protagonist's spine. "Looks like I was wrong about who had the surprise for whom."
"Stop it," the protagonist said in a hitched voice. They turned away, back to their stupid spreadsheet blurry through tears. "You're just being mean now. You didn't want me, you wanted-"
"To trap [hero], I was thinking I’d outsmarted myself there for a while. But I fought [hero] today and I felt... nothing." The chair spun back around. The villain caught the protagonist's chin in their hand, studying them with a thoughtful look they got when they were ready to take the protagonist apart. "Looks like I trapped something else instead."
The protagonist slapped the villain's hand away. Their breath suddenly felt compressed in their lungs, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. "Don't you dare. I'm not a consolation prize."
"Definitely not. A flexible moral code, a gale force personality, an absolutely slamming body," the villain mused. They straddled the protagonist, the springs of cheap desk chair squeaking in protest at the weight settling precariously over the protagonist’s hips. "This feels - how did you put it - too good to be true? Clearly further investigation is warranted. If...” The villain cleared their throat. For the first time since the protagonist had met them, they actually looked just a tad shy. “...if you want.”
The protagonist swallowed. But there was no question. There never had been. “You owe me,” they said with a jut of their chin, “a conversation, and some very fancy take-out.”
The villain grinned and pulled out their phone to order.
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timdrakegf · 2 months
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alley rose 🍁 timbern
“don’t leave my hanging alone again. oh where’d you go alley rose?”
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"I... I don't think I do this," the words come out soft and quiet, barely traversing through his tear-clogged throat. The words push past his plush lips, which Tim’s spent nights tracing and kissing to calm his racing heart from the stress every patrol places on him.
Tim swivels in his chair, drawn by the subtle tremor in Bernard's voice. His eyes, filled with concern, scan over the figure of his boyfriend. Bernard sits on their worn sage couch, fingers fidgeting with the loose threads he's absentmindedly pulled, a habit born from countless sleepless nights.
Tim's heart clenches at the sight of Bernard's distress, his work temporarily forgotten as he focuses on his normally cheery boyfriend. With tentative steps, he crosses the room, closing the distance between them until he's standing beside the sage couch, where Bernard sits with his head bowed. He positions himself before the couch's arm, folding his arms atop it before resting his forehead against them, angling his gaze upward to meet Bernard's.
Gently, Tim reaches out, his fingers brushing against Bernard's trembling hand. "Hey," he murmurs, his voice soft with concern. "Talk to me, Bernard. What's going on?"
Bernard lets out a shaky breath, finally meeting Tim's gaze, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I just... I feel like I'm suffocating, Tim," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
Tim cocks his head in a way that Bernard would find endearing if not for the nature of the conversation. If not for what was about to come. “What do you mean, bear?” He takes his hand and strokes his knuckles softly. Bernard whimpers at the familiar touch of his calloused finger pads.
“Every time you leave Tim, every time you put on that stupid mask, I feel like someone is choking me.”
“You usually like tha-” Tim jokes, but at the look in Bernard’s eyes, the joke dies in his throat, and he’s back to concerned.
“Tim, I’m serious. I don’t think I do this anymore.” Bernard pulls his hand softly from Tim’s and folds them in his lap. He looks so small like this that it reminds Tim of a caged animal.
Tim shakes his head, “Well, what do you want me to do? How can I help?”
Bernard inhales shakily. Now or Never, he thinks.
“I can’t keep being second to Robin. I can’t keep wondering if you’re gonna come home and, if you do, in what condition. I can’t keep watching you get pummeled on our TV. I can’t keep doing this.”
"You can't ask me to quit, Bernard," Tim's voice is tinged with surprise, his gaze unwavering as he meets Bernard's pleading eyes. "Being Robin... it's who I am. It's what I do."
Bernard's expression softened, a mixture of concern and exasperation etched across his features. "But at what cost, Tim?" he implored, his voice tinged with desperation. "Every night, you put yourself in danger, risking your life for what? For some endless cycle of violence and chaos? No matter how many people risk their lives, Gotham doesn't change."
Tim's resolve wavers, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes. "I do it to protect the city," he countered, his voice strained with conviction. I do it to make a difference. I do it to honor Batman's legacy."
"But what about your legacy, Tim?" Bernard's voice rose with urgency, his frustration boiling over. "What about your life? Your safety? Don't you see what this is doing to you? Physically, emotionally... it's tearing you apart. It’s tearing us apart."
Tim's fists tighten. His facade of defiance builds under the weight of Bernard's words. "I... I can't just walk away," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Being Robin... it's all I know. It's who I've always been."
Bernard's heart ached at the vulnerability in Tim's words, his own frustration giving way to a surge of compassion. "But it doesn't have to define you, Tim," he insisted, reaching out to gently grasp Tim's fisted hands. "You're more than just a costume. More than just a sidekick. You're Tim Drake, and you deserve a chance to live your own life on your own terms."
The room felt like it was shrinking, suffocating Tim as he squared off against Bernard. His frustration boiled over, the words tumbling out in a torrent of anger and bitterness.
"You don't get it, Bernard." Tim spat, his voice laced with venom as he advanced on his boyfriend. "You're just jealous because you can't handle the fact that I'm out there making a difference while you sit here, wallowing in self-pity. I don’t exist for you."
Bernard recoiled as if struck, his eyes flashing with hurt and betrayal. "Is that what you really think, Tim?" he shot back, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "That this is about jealousy? Your own ego so blinds you you can't even see how much you're hurting yourself and everyone around you!"
Tim clenched his fists at his sides, his chest heaving with pent-up anger. "I don't need you to tell me what's best for me, Bernard," he snarled, the words dripping with contempt. I'm Robin, whether you like it or not. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you should just leave!"
The words hung in the air like a weight, suffocating in their intensity. Bernard's eyes flashed with hurt and betrayal, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Fine," he bit out, his voice trembling with unshed tears. "If that's how you really feel, then maybe you're right. Maybe I should leave."
And with that, Bernard turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Tim alone with the bitter taste of regret on his lips. But even as the door slammed shut behind him, Tim couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life.
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sidekick-hero · 3 months
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(steddie | mature | 2.1k | tags: outlaw!eddie, future fic, starcrossed lovers finding each other, happy ending, the happy ending to he's all that I've got (don’t take that sinner from me) we deserve | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is the only thing we can take with us by @thefreakandthehair | AO3)
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Sometimes Eddie wondered how many times you could lose everything and be forced to start over before you just...gave up.
The first time the world as he knew it fell apart, he had only been ten, too young to really understand what it meant as his mom grew weaker and weaker until the doctors took her away. He had been allowed to visit her one last time to say goodbye, and even at ten he had understood that from that day on things would be different.
There would always be a before and an after.
Sitting on a cliff in Maine, overlooking the sea with a crumpled photograph in his hand, he remembers the last time he spoke to his ma, curled up against her on the too-small bed in the too-white room.
"I miss you, Mama," he had whispered, his voice hoarse from crying so much lately. He didn't want to cry now, because he knew it always made his mommy sad when he cried, but he couldn't help the little sniffle.
His mom had stroked his hair. "Oh baby, I know. I missed you too, my sweet little boy."
"I asked Daddy when you were coming home to us, but he didn't say. He just said I had to stay with Uncle Wayne for a few days." The hand in his hair had felt good, soothing. His mom was soft and warm under his cheek, and even though she didn't smell like the perfume she usually wore, it almost felt like they were just cuddling in her bed after one of his nightmares.
"You're not coming home." Eddie added, not really a question because he might only be ten and sometimes school was hard because he was so bored and distracted, but he wasn't stupid. No matter what some of the kids on the school bus said, or his dad when Eddie could smell the bitter stench of whiskey on his breath.
His mom had pressed a kiss to the top of his head and sighed. "No, baby. I'm not." And then, in an even softer voice, "I have to go, even though I don't want to leave you."
"Then take me with you!" He had blurted out, scared and sad and angry at the world for taking his mommy away when she didn't even want to go.
"Baby."
"I don't want you to be alone, Mama." Because even though Eddie didn't really know much about death, he didn't want to think about his mama going somewhere dark and scary and being all alone without him to take care of her.
She had held him as tightly to her body as her dwindling strength would allow. "I won't be alone, baby. I will have you and Daddy and Uncle Wayne with me. Your love for me and my love for you. That's the only thing we can take with us, Eddie. That's why it's so important that you find people that you can love and that love you back, so that you're never alone. You will always have them with you."
His mom died the next day, taking all his love with her.
It was a long time before Eddie found that love in his heart again. Wayne helped a lot by teaching him that love came with no strings attached. Love was just because. Gareth and Jeff and Grant helped too, sharing his passions, looking up to him and giving him a place to be whoever he wanted to be, no matter how nerdy or loud or brash.
But it wasn't until Dustin, oddly enough, that he found that selfless love in his heart again. He gladly sacrificed himself for the kid who always believed in him, who looked past his masks and antics and shields and saw him, and embraced the man he found underneath it all with all his might.
And then Steve Harrington stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. Well, even more upside down than the actual Upside Down, which in a strange, roundabout way meant that Steve made his life feel right again.
Falling in love with him was both inevitable and almost an afterthought.
He was accused of murder. He ran away. He met Steve. He found out that monsters were real and fought them with a bunch of teenagers. He got to know Steve and liked what he found, a lot. He almost died. He woke up from a coma to find Steve at his bedside. He kissed a boy for the first time and liked it, a lot. He liked the boy, he liked Steve, a lot. He had to run from the law before he could even tell him he loved him.
His mama had been right, though.
Eddie had to leave everything behind, his guitar, his books, the only family he had left, his friends, hell, even his name.
He had to leave Steve behind, hopes and dreams turned into an almost.
The only thing he took with him was his love for Steve.
It made him reckless and stupid, selfless and brave. It made him seek Steve out, over and over again, and he found that he was taking Steve's love with him as well.
He risked getting caught again and again, and that would not only mean prison or, more likely, the death penalty. It would mean they might get the idea that Steve had helped him escape. Or Wayne. Dustin and the other kids. That's why Eddie stayed away from them, because it was safer for them.
He couldn't stay away from Steve, not until Steve asked him to.
At first, Steve never would; he would only ask Eddie to stay or to take Steve with him. He couldn't do either of those things because he knew what kind of life Steve would face if he came with Eddie. A life that was cold and bleak, hunger and loneliness, homesickness and the struggle to survive that ate at you every day.
No, Eddie couldn't, wouldn't ask that of Steve. All he ever wanted for Steve was a safe and comfortable life. Some nights, when he couldn't sleep, he thought about what he would have wanted for their future. A small house, a dog. Waking up in Steve's arms under warm covers. Eating breakfast in their sunny kitchen. Laughing and dancing barefoot to old songs on the radio like he had seen his parents do. Coming home to the smell of freshly cooked food and someone waiting for him. Kissing and touching and loving Steve as the sun set in the west, only to do it all over again the next day. And the next.
It took Steve eight years, five months and fifteen days to ask Eddie to stay away. He was so sad, so heartbroken when he told Eddie, "I love you and I can't keep waiting for a future that will never come. I want to be with you so bad, Eddie. You have no idea. But I can't keep doing what we're doing. I can't just have pieces of you twice a year."
They had made love that day, even if it had been on their knees on the dirty ground in a dark alley, and then Eddie had walked away.
Now, in the middle of nowhere in northern Maine, he thinks about those words. Playing them over and over again. Hoping the pain will kill him, thinking it might. Steve's love was what kept him warm, kept him going, even if he didn't really know where. At least he had Steve, so it didn't matter that he had nothing else.
Eddie had thought that his love was enough for Steve as well, but he should have known better. Steve deserved so much more than waiting for a future that would never come.
He plays the scene again, twisting the knife deeper, hearing Steve say, "I can't - Eddie, I can't do this anymore. It's killing me, never knowing when you'll be back, if you'll be back."
A large fishing boat honks in the distance, the sound barely registering as he thinks of the future he had always dreamed of with Steve. Coming home to him every day because they had a life together, whatever that looked like.
It wouldn't matter because they'd have each other.
The fishing boat honks again as it approaches Cutler's harbor. Maybe he could get a job on a ship again, he thinks distantly, it had been surprisingly good work. Busy and smelly, but good. It's nice here, secluded, so far from the hustle and bustle of the big cities. No one knows who he is, most people don't really care about national news, because what do they care? It's more important to keep up with local events.
Looking back at the one and only picture of him and Steve, an idea begins to form in his mind.
Eddie feels lighter as he slides the postcard into the mailbox before walking back up the driveway to his house. The mailman would be here in two days, but Eddie couldn't wait any longer, afraid he'd chicken out and wait another six months before working up the courage to actually send the damn thing. It's been 730 days since he last saw Steve and he feels every one of them etched in his heart like a prisoner marking the passing of days with scratches on his prison wall.
It's a risk to reveal his whereabouts like this, especially considering he doesn't even know if Steve is still in Indy or has finally moved on, moved to be with his friends instead of waiting for Eddie's ghost to haunt him. Eddie didn't give his address or even the town he lives near. Just that he's in Alaska and a hidden clue he hopes Steve will be able to understand. Just a little line tucked away at the bottom of the card, far less obvious than the Hey, Big Boy that says, "I took the road less traveled, I see you at the end of it."
Now all Eddie could do was hope, his love wrapped around him like a blanket as he continued to build a life here, at the end of the road.
Opening his front door while holding back an excited puppy is a feast he's still trying to master. Cerberus is an Alaskan Malamute destined to be big and strong, and the fact that even as a puppy Eddie has little chance against the bundle of excited energy doesn't bode well for him.
"Bear, come on, go to your place," he commands as he pulls the door open, his foot holding back the ball of fur that is trying to get to whoever is on the other side first.
"I'm sorry, he's not really trained yet and he's stubborn to boot," Eddie apologizes, not even looking up at his visitor as he continues to wrestle with Cerberus. It's probably the mailman or Mrs. Jenkins, the closest thing to a neighbor 'James Smith' has, since she lives only five miles from him. She likes to check on him from time to time, saying that a young man like him shouldn't be alone. He strongly suspects that she wants to set him up with her daughter.
"I guess it's true what they say, like owner, like dog, huh?" a warm voice chuckles and Eddie freezes. Cerberus takes the opportunity to leap over his leg and into Steve's arms as he bends down to greet the little traitor.
The puppy immediately begins to lick Steve's face with enthusiasm and wriggles in his arms to get even closer, making Steve laugh with his whole face. Eddie makes a mental note to give Bear some extra treats.
"I think he really likes me," Steve delights, and Eddie manages a weak chuckle of his own, still reeling from finding the man he loves and thought he had lost on his doorstep.
"Like owner, like dog, I guess."
That gives Steve pause, finally looking up from the bundle of enthusiastic puppy love in his arms.
"Eddie," he breathes out in wonder, his eyes taking in Eddie's body from head to toe, and Eddie wonders if he still likes what he finds. His body has changed, bulkier from all the physical labor he does, but also older. More scars, a beard against the cold, his hair cut shorter to look less distinctive.
"Hey, Stevie. It's James, actually."
"Yeah, they told me when I asked around and gave your description. Wasn't easy finding you." Steve adds, not angry, just a fact. Like he doesn't mind. As if he didn't travel thousands of miles to find Eddie.
"But you did."
"I did. You wanted me to, right? That's what your card was for?"
Reaching for Steve to pull him inside, Eddie closes the door behind him and takes a step toward him. Steve puts the puppy down and Bear, bless his heart, goes to his place without being told.
"Steve," Eddie says as he slides his fingers between Steve's, "I always wanted to take you with me, but I never felt I could. Not until I could offer you something. Well, it's not much, just a small house and an untrained, stubborn puppy, but it's something. If you want it."
Pulling Eddie in with their joined hand, Steve wraps his arm around him.
"It's you, that's all I ever wanted."
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a-not-so-clean-blog · 8 months
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Demon!Killer x male reader. 3.4k
Y/N your name
N/N nick name
Warning: some cursing, mentions of abuse, cum as lube, blindfold sex, size difference, stomach bulge.
I never should have gone to that party.
Everything was fine until someone suggested we try to summon a demon. No one took it seriously as Alex grabbed and set up candles while some girl looked up a Latin tutorial online. "Just something stupid to pass the time." They said. Stupid was definitely the key word here. At least someone was smart enough to get a bucket of water in case we set the lawn on fire too.
Ready with a salt circle around the fire pit and candles lit in the cardinal directions, we all sat around the fire while the girl read the Latin.
I'm sitting on the ground just watching the whole show. The girl chanting starts walking around and asking for things from the onlookers. One girl gives her hair clip, a guy gives his half full beer. Dumb little trinkets or useless things they all give to her, until she gets to me. I try and wave her off. I didn't really want to participate but I also had nothing I wanted to give. The only things I had on me was my phone, wallet, and a pocket sketchbook I pour my heart into. When it's clear I'm not giving her anything her friend snags my sketchbook from my hoodie pocket and tosses it to her. I'm quick to jump up for it but not quick enough.
With a sarcastic "oops" she tossed everything into the golden flames. I tried to catch my book but a red fireball spits from the flames and I managed to burn my hand before recoiling from the heat. I glared at the girls but I didn't want to start a fight. Alex was my only friend here and I didn't want to make them look bad in front of their other friends so I forced myself to take the high road.
Alex has a look of shock on their face as I soak my burned hand in the water bucket. I'll tell them later I don't blame them for their friends actions, I know they feel bad already. That still doesn't make me any less furious with the girl who burned my book though. "Stupid fire, stupid alcohol, stupid hand-" I grumble to myself.
The puff of fire at least made the ritual more interesting for the onlookers. However that was basically the only thing that happened. After all that effort to ruin our stuff and pretend to speak Latin the only thing that we got out of the ritual was the crowd bursting into laughter after it was over and nothing happened.
Alex gave me a bandage to wrap my hand and said they would talk to the others and make this up to me later. After the pain in my hand died down I excused myself and drove back to my apartment. By the time I got back it was almost midnight and I was way too tired to worry about cleaning my wound right now. I slipped into pajama pants and an old T-shirt and flopped face first onto my bed.
The comfort of my bed slowly fading as the temperature of the room started to rise. I try my best to ignore it until it felt like I was boiling. I groan as I sit up to turn on the AC only to freeze in my tracks when I see a large man standing in the middle of my room. He practically took up half the room with his size. Tall with bulging muscles, intricate black markings spread up his left arm until they were hidden by a shirt that was two sizes too small. A pair of curved horns poked out from behind a white and blue mask, and everything was outlined by a mess of golden hair.
I throw myself to the other side of the room but in my panic I can't seem to find my voice. All he does is tilt his head to the side. I can't tell if it's an amused or confused expression under the mask but either way I needed to find a way to escape! He was standing between me and the door. Dread spread through me as realization of just how fucked I was set in.
"G-get out!" I yelled, my voice cracking under the pressure. He takes a step back and stands in the doorway. I start to shake in fear and a little in anger. "Don't fuck with me! I said get out!" This time he doesn't move, simply staring at me for a minute before he quietly sat on the floor.
His voice was deep. I could feel it ringing in my bones before I heard it. "I will not leave until the deal is finished."
"A deal?" I'm taken aback by how calm he is. His demeanor is relaxed like I didn't just scream at him. "Why would I make a deal with someone who broke into my house!?" I feel my anger rising again.
He holds up his hand on the arm that is covered with markings. A brand in the same spot I got burned shimmers like gold. "You paid in advance. I just need my orders."
"I order you to leave than."
He lets out a sigh. "I can leave if you wish but that won't be enough to end the contract."
"There is no contract. Demons aren't real. Your just some giant guy in a stupid costume!" We both fall silent staring at each other, unmoving. Until he gets up and marches towards me. Suddenly fear kicks in again and I realize how dangerous a situation I got myself in. As he gets closer I back up until I hit the wall and he looms over me.
"I. Am. Real." He speaks slowly and precisely. It's all I can do to swallow the lump in my throat and nod my head. A small "okay" shakily falls from my lips. He grabs my bandaged hand by the wrist, his hands feeling like they're on fire. He starts to unwind the cloth until my burn is revealed. I stare in disbelief as the brand took the shape of a skull with three vertical lines running through it.
He releases me from his iron grip and I gawk at the mark. I look up at him in disbelief. "How did you do that?"
He shakes his head. "You did that. That's the contract seal you made when you burned the artifact." I wrack my brain to think of what he meant by artifact.
"You mean my sketchbook?"
"I don't know what it was, but it has enough emotion in it to summon me." He takes a step back so I don't have to crane my neck as much to look up at him. He holds his hand out for me to shake. "Now let's try this again. You can call me Killer, and what do I call you?"
"Shouldn't you call me master?" I joke, ignoring his outstretched hand. I've seen enough demon movies to know not to shake hands with a devil.
"I'm not calling you that." His reply was instant and deadpan. I almost laugh at the delivery.
"Fine, call me… (n/n)."
"So n/n. What do you want?" The way he asked sounded more like a demand.
"I don't want to sell my soul."
"You didn't."
"Huh? I thought that's how demon contracts work?" Confusion written all over my face.
"Not always. Normally yes, but my captain is being punished so for now we have to feed on emotions instead. Your artifact had a lot and was actually able to summon me because of it. However I can't collect those emotions until after I fulfill my end of the deal." It's hard to tell how he's feeling with his inflection so steady and his face covered.
"Why emotions?"
"They are the most similar to the soul. The stronger the emotions the more energy we get." I go to ask something else but he cuts me off. "I would rather not give a whole theology lesson today. What do you want from me, I can get revenge for you, get you power, wealth?"
Revenge sounded nice, but am I really the type of person that would kill over a sketchbook? There are so many people who have done worse to me and who deserve worse. "Do you have to kill them?" I ask as I think over my options.
"I don't have to." I think he might be a bit disappointed. I nod my head getting an understanding of what I want.
I give him a small list of people. Scum who hurt, used, and abused me. People that are better off dead, but I'm not going to kill them. "I want them hurt. I want them to live but make them suffer." He takes the list and nods his head before silently leaving out the fifth story window. It amazes me how someone so big can be so quiet.
He returned only a few hours later. During that time I couldn't rest so I paced around my apartment and thought hard about the whole situation. At first I felt guilty because I'm the reason these people are going to get their lives ruined. However every time I look down at my hand I get a weird feeling that everything is going to be okay. My mind drifts to my summoned attack dog. I can't help but remember just how hot his touch was. Even if he scared me before now I get a flutter in my chest when I think about him. Yeah he was strong and imposing, but he spoke so calmly even when I was yelling and freaking out. It was like he was a grounding force I found myself inexplicably drawn to.
I didn't hear him come back until I turned around and suddenly had to stop myself from running into him. "Shit! Oh sorry… how did it go?" I compose myself and take a step back to give him some room.
"I took care of the revenge, but it wasn't enough." He holds up his hand and the golden marking is still as bright as before. I noticed his clawed fingers still have some blood on them. "I'm stuck here until I collect more of your emotions."
"...oh" I'm not really sure how to respond to that. "Can I like… watch a movie or something to feel emotions?"
"No, I have to be the reason for the emotions for it to work." I think he sounded frustrated.
"Sorry…" I stand there awkwardly for a bit, trying to think of a solution. I can't just have a demon living with me, but I also can't send him on a killing spree to fulfill the contract. Suddenly I'm thinking impure thoughts about him again and I feel my cheeks flush. I shake my head and clear my thoughts. I know he's staring at me again but if I only knew just how hard he was looking. "I… I'll think of something."
What was It he offered before? Revenge, already did that. Wealth, I'm not rich but I'm doing okay, besides if I suddenly have money I'm sure people will get suspicious or try to use me again. Power? I guess he ment status but I like my privacy and really don't want to be famous or anything. Thinking about the demon in front of me I remember his words and how his deep voice rang through me. How it made me feel… I start to get a little excited.
Well I guess it's now or never. "I have a request." I try to sound confident. "You can say no if you don't think it will work or if you don't want to…" I wait for a response but he just continues to look at me behind his mask, silent telling me to spit it out. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. "Fuck me." I blurt out.
He tilts his head to the side before eventually breaking the silence. "I like that deal." I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding as he approaches, towering over me once again. "Sit and relax. I'll do the rest n/n." He said as he moves to take off my shirt.
After moving into the bedroom I slide down my pajama pants and boxers in one motion and sit on the edge of the bed with my legs spread. Starting to second guess myself I go to close my legs but his large hands engulf my knees and keep them parted. He settles his massive frame between my legs making it impossible for me to close them.
His size made me nervous before but now I'm nervous in a different way, a much better way. My breath catches in my throat as his too hot hand gently grabs my half hard cock. Slow strokes and the perfect amount of pressure get me rock hard in seconds. It's not long before my cock is twitching ready for release. My breathing becomes shallow the closer to the edge I get. It's too soon, I don't want this to end now. I try to take his hands off my dick but he just keeps pumping at that slow steady pace. "K-Killer-" his name comes out as a breathless stutter.
"It's okay. I'm just getting started." His low voice goes right through me and I cum all over his hand. Thick white ropes sliding down his knuckles. He gathers the cum on his fingertips and pushes me flat on the bed. "You said you wanted me to fuck you, right." It wasn't really a question but I slowly nod my head anyway. He presses his cum covered fingers against my tight ass hole. The cum felt cold contrasted by his searing touch. I gasp at the foreign sensation as one of his thick fingers slowly pushes inside of me.
He goes slow, coaxing me to breathe until the discomfort melts into pleasure. It doesn't take long for me to become putty in his hands. I lean back and let myself get used to the new feelings.
A familiar sensation ran through my bones but I was too lost in my own pleasure to actually hear what he said. "Huh?"
"Your eyes."
"You are not taking my eyes!" I bolt upright
"Not permanently." He takes off his shirt and exposes more of his defined muscles. The stretched fabric wasn't leaving much to the imagination anyway but getting to see more of his toned body was a treat that had me ogling. He folds the shirt and wraps the dark fabric around my head, cutting off my sight completely. All I could smell was the iron and sweat that stained the cloth.
I could feel my heart pounding as my mind raced trying to think of what's going to happen next. "Kil- aah!" A chill runs up my spine as a hot wet tongue licks up my neck. I can feel his lips grin against my skin. He goes down lower leaving a wet trail of licks and kisses down my body. If his hands were like fire then his breath was like smoke, hot and heavy against my skin. His tongue was thick and inhumanly long as he tasted and nipped every part of my exposed skin. Only slowing down to a teasing pace as he got to the sensitive flesh of my thighs. Giving a teasing bite, gently with his razor sharp teeth. Every touch made it feel like there was a fire under my skin.
I let out a loud gasp as his tongue slithered into my ass, soon followed by a finger, then another. All working to stretch me out. I could feel him getting excited. His breathing getting heavier and his fingers moving faster it all felt so good and I could feel my own dick ready to cum again. It took some effort but I started adjusting to the stretching and the sound of my panting and moans filled the room.
I was practically mewling when he suddenly pulled everything out of me. Leaving me with only an empty feeling in my gut. I desperately grab for him and barely graze one of his horns before his hand tightly grabs my wrists and he pins them above my head. I let out a pathetic whimper as my pending orgasm fades.
There's some shuffling and I wince as my eyes are forced to adjust to the sudden brightness of the room. I nearly choked on air when he took off my makeshift blindfold revealing his massive cock standing proud. The beast was thicker than my arm and just as long. "That won't fit!" A feeling of panic sparks in my chest. I look up at him but his mask is back on and I can't see any reaction.
"It will." His voice was so tempered, so matter of fact. It was strangely reassuring that despite my worry I still trusted him. Trusted this demon. His mask tilts down and I follow his supposed gaze between my legs. I let out a low moan as he slips three fingers easily into my ass. "You already take my fingers so well. It will fit."
With one hand still pinning my hands above my head he takes his fingers out of my ass and gives himself a few slow strokes. My chest feels tight but I still lick my lips in anticipation. He lets go of my hands and rubs up my stomach. "It will reach all the way up here, and it will be delicious."
"Do it." My lust overshadowing my logic.
He leans over me and rests his weight on his elbow next to my head. Grabbing the back of my knee with his free hand he makes plenty of room for himself as he lines up his monster cock with my already gaping hole. "Breathe." He slowly pressed the tip into me and I was already seeing stars. Painfully slowly he pushed in until I let out a sharp hiss when his cock got too thick halfway in. Stopping he gave me a moment to adjust. Looking down I can already see my stomach bulging. If he wasn't so patient his cock would have ripped me in half already. With every exhale my ass relaxed a little more until it didn't hurt anymore so I bucked my hips a little letting my demon know it's okay to continue.
His dick was just as hot as his touch but reached so much deeper. He kept going deeper still until our hips touched and I was completely full. I let out a small whimper at the tight feeling but my dick was still rock hard with excitement.
"Good boy." The full feeling mixed with the shiver his voice gave me almost had me cum on the spot. A sense of pride swelled in me when I saw just how much of him I could take.
His slow deep thrusts slowly turned into hard deep pounding. Pushing me deeper into the bed as I cling to him, nails biting into his tough skin. The only time he slowed his pace again was when I would get close to cumming, never able to reach my release but enjoying every moment of it. Hours felt like minutes as ecstasy courses through me. With a final thrust my cock and whole body spasms as I cum all over myself. Killer pulls his cock out and his cum mixes with my own on my chest and stomach.
I cum probably the hardest I will ever cum in my life. I collapse into the bed soaked in sweat, completely exhausted and satisfied. "That was… wow" I can't even think a cohesive thought as I bask in my afterglow.
"It'll be a shame not being able to taste all your emotions more y/n." He starts to blur, like when you wake from a dream and that world disappears. Only the world is still and it's just him fading away. The only thing left behind was some soot on the floor and a piece of parchment. I pick up the paper and it has a weird sigel on it. Like a flaming skull wrapped in archaic text. In the mouth of the big skull is the same small striped skull that branded my hand.
I can't help but laugh to myself as my demonic one night stand just left his infernal phone number.
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