#but they usually end up in a realistically slightly less fucked up situation

[ickypuppi3]

harringrove is such a good ship because they’re literally just two guys

like when you put them together they get the chance to be normal teenagers who just have a lot of shit going on in their lives

#because billy’s biggest problems aren’t supernatural #he’s just a kid from a broken home #steve’s steve #like both of them #nothing special or spectacular #but they’re the most important thing in the world to the other person #i think that’s why it hits #they’re lonely and fucked up #but they usually end up in a realistically slightly less fucked up situation #and they’re less lonely because of each other #idk it’s kinda depressing but nice #like it doesn’t even come across as a st ship most of the time #because it’s so painfully realistic #because they have real world problems #just two queer teenagers in the 80’s trying to get by and all that #it hits different #not that i’m biased or anything

[johnsamericano]

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct doyoung

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

[sebbybooks]

Wreck My Daydream

Part Two

Sebastian Stan x Fanfiction

18+

Tagged🎄

@wayward-mikaelson

Cataglottism

(n.) kissing with tongue

I’m already wet and Sebastian barely even touched me.

I hardly gave myself a moment to be ashamed or even stir in the crass words I was using even if I had only thought them. Like a diary I suppose there was no need to lie to myself considering it was one hundred percent true. I, Nellie Lennox, was unabashedly met with unending desires that washed away my trepidations that led up to this moment.

In its place I felt this newfound sense of possibilities that I wasn’t actually making an ass out of myself with my sudden confession of feelings for Sebastian. In my defense I didn’t just wake up one morning after having some epiphany as to why I wanted to be with him. The thought of us together made itself at home in the back of my mind.

Almost like a what if. . .

However, I couldn’t help but be terrified of all the ways it could go wrong. What if I had made things weird between us forcing us apart? Life would be a bitter existence if Sebastian wasn’t around in some capacity. For the longest time I tried to find him in different relationships. It is a messed up philosophy, but it almost worked. Whenever things would get too serious it nearly terrified me. I was their someday and they were my maybe. I owed this last relationship that is still so freshly cut more than that.

I owed myself that.

On the unique and rare chance I somehow got lost in a very realistic maladaptive daydream, I’m pretty certain Sebastian wants this too. Just thinking about what he had told me seconds ago made my heartbeat drum to a dizzy rhythm. Imagining myself getting fucked to the beat of it was a completely different type of sensation.

Retraining my focus on the now I could see it in Sebastian’s face all the wheels going around in his head. Confusion? Uncertainty? Regret?

“You don’t get to do that.” I tell him. I felt like I was going to climb out of my own skin if he left me suspended in the silence for a second longer. Sebastian tipped his face closer to mine, our lips gingerly brushing against each other. Perhaps he was feeling ambivalent in regards of his feelings for me? After all this was sprung on him in the middle of the night.

Sebastian shook his head as if he was at war with himself. “I want to.” His voice was strained and dangerously low, like something was causing him utter misery being this close, yet not knowing exactly when to pull away.

“Then why don’t you.” I dared him.

I was growing impatient with this slow burn we had somehow started. I wanted to play with this fire. If I got burned in the end by his touch then so be it. At least I would forever be marked with a reminder of knowing that I at least went after something I wanted with no apology. I wanted to see how far he was willingly to go.

Sebastian removed his hand from the security of being wrapped around me. I feigned a disappointed sigh at the lack of contact. My entire body must have been on autopilot , because I didn’t recognize the position I was in. I practically sat in his lap with one leg wrapped around him and the other one mindlessly dangling over the bed. Of course the mind reader that Sebastian was naturally grabbed ahold of the side of my thigh and wrapped it around his back.

It wasn’t like I was naive to sex or never had my fair share of romantic conquest. Regardless of my experiences I still felt like a gigantic ball of nerves. The way he stared down at me with a heated look in his eyes as if he wanted to posses every inch of me. Hell, I felt like I could come undone from that alone.

The hand that was planted on my back slowly drifted downward trailing the curve of my backside gripping my ass through my thinly silk hunter green shorts that matched the top. Earlier I had berated myself for wearing scantly clad pajamas to bed. Now I am thanking my lucky stars I opted out of the option of wearing a red Christmas onesie that had polar bears wearing scarfs around their necks. They were ones my mother insisted the whole family wear.

If I had I probably would not have been able to feel his erection that was restrained in his sweatpants. Trying to situate myself closer I rocked into him slightly, massaging myself on him. My ears didn’t miss the subtle groan Sebastian let out from the feel of my weight pressing further into him.

His silence wasn’t lost on me and he still hadn’t answered my question so I did it again. I wanted him to say something. My nervousness abated at this point. I twined my arms around his neck, grinding myself against him again and again. All the while Sebastian watched my every movement with a hint of a star struck look in his eyes. The feeling was certainly mutual I was even shocking myself at my behavior.

“Nellie,” Sebastian finally says, voice husky. He usually only ever calls me by my nickname so I was more than sure that he was not fully himself.

“I’m a big girl Sebastian I can handle whatever you need to say.” I tell him, holding in my breath.

“Alright,” he said with uncertainty. “You and me, this, it’s not a good idea.” His tone was barely audible and even more so he sounded hurt. Everything in me froze.

“And why is that?” I asked him more confused than ever. Suddenly feeling absolutely self conscious as I over analyzed every intimate word I just shared with him. I was even more horrified by the fact that I was dry humping my best friend.

He let out a darkly laugh. “It’s pretty damn obvious Nells.” Sebastian says rather ominously.

“...It’s not actually.” For someone that wants nothing out of this, Sebastian was holding on to me like an anchor and I on the other hand just wanted to get away and sink.

Admittedly, I was losing this game of tug a war. There was only so much I was willing to endure even I had my limits. “You’re giving me whiplash Sebastian .” I tell him honestly, “ I’m not like those other girls you go for that are satisfied with you just dangling yourself in front of them like a piece of cake that I can’t have. I meant what I said when I told you I didn’t say it just to hear you say the same.” My voice could only rise so high in pitch.

I definitely didn’t want to wake up the upstairs guest that would love nothing more than to recap this conversation over breakfast. Then like an unexpected bolt of lighting startling you from a distance, Sebastian kissed me.

Sebastian

I am a selfish bastard.

My mind fell quiet when I looked at her. I wanted to swim in the serenity and peacefulness that was this smart, vibrant, sexy, and uniqueness this woman possessed. I only wondered even in the darkness could Nellie see my eyes as plainly as I can see hers. If so could she see the shame reflecting in them? I could feel the nagging weight of my conscience siting on both of my shoulders, arguing back and forth over what I should and shouldn’t do. It was kind of ironic that the devil in my ear insisted that I give in to the angel in my lap.

God knows I waited for her and that I would keep waiting if I had to in this lifetime or the next. It was always going to be Nellie for me. I wanted to tell her all of this, but the longer I held on to this slice of heaven I was given during this random hour. I also knew that this moment was fleeting. I basked in the way she looked at me, the way she held on to me like I was an object of virtue. I also got a sample of what it would be like to lose her the second she began to slip away on her own accord. So, I did what any poor fool would do in my position. I kissed her.

It wasn’t exactly suave or how I imagined it would go. My mouth sort of crushed against her unmoving lips in a rushed and unskilled manner. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, I certainly could do a hell of a lot better than this. An yet, it was still like I predicted it would be, filled with pure unadulterated pleasure. Nellie’s lips were sweet and warm, exactly how I imagined forbidden fruit to taste like.

A perfect mixture of firm and softness that drove me wild. She flattened her hands on my bare chest as if to brace herself. Nellie pushed herself away, but her face was still so close to me. She didn’t speak and neither could I. I forced myself to look up at her and hoped that she could see I would do everything in my power to earn her forgiveness. That it was a mistake I will make right somehow.

“Nell,” I let out an exasperated breath. “ I have a need for you that goes deeper than just lust and I know that it will never truly be sated. The killer thing is I’m already at risk of losing you before I even had you.”

Nellie stared hazily up at me.“You already have me.” She whispered, our lips still grazing. Those four simple words set off a firework in me. This time when I kissed her our mouths came together like we needed to feed off of each other’s oxygen in order to survive. I’d suffer if I didn’t have it.

My mouth was greedy for hers, and I could imagine she felt the same. The moment I felt her lips slightly part open to let me in, less than a second our tongues slid together in a torrid and sensually slow pace. We kissed like a couple of eager teenagers. My heart threatened to leap from my chest when the tip of Nell’s tongue moved across my bottom lip. She tastes like gingerbread , mixed with some other divine flavor that I can only assume is Nellie. She arched herself closer into my chest and I could feel the points of her hardened nipples through her top. I seized the opportunity to press her body close because I needed more.

I wanted to feel the heat of her soft skin on mine. She returned her arms back around my neck tightly holding me in place as she angled her head kissing me back with the same ferocity. Deeply, and oh so thoroughly by the way she sucked on my tongue. I had a rough grip on her ass keeping Nellie steady as she straddled me. I was so damn hard for her. If my dick could get even harder it was bound to. Nellie did that thing again where she grinds down on my erection and I cursed at myself to not combust. I grabbed ahold of her hips guiding her to move faster, harder.

I kept telling myself to savor her, fucking take my time with this moment. I couldn’t just rip those tiny little shorts off and sink myself into her over and over until we’ve both had enough. But even then I would always need more of her. I wasn't a sentimental man, with Nellie I at least wanted to try. I wanted my first night with Nell to be a little less spontaneous than this. It wasn’t like I came prepared for festivities filled with endless fucks. Plus the added fact I couldn’t let things get too carried away especially since she still didn’t know what I have done.

Yeah, I am a very selfish bastard.

I didn’t want this to end. I wanted my mouth to explore every single part of Nellie. I wanted the taste of her to live on my tongue. I wanted to go as far as she and my consciousness would allow me.

“I need to touch you.” I panted, between every nip and kiss I left on the delicate area of skin under her jaw.

“You’re already touching me.” She says with a soft laugh, which was a melody to my ears. I was but at the same time I wasn’t. I needed to rid Nellie of any barrier that prevented me from branding her skin with my touch.

“This…off.” I tug gently on the bottom of her tank top before returning my hands to rest on her thighs, caressing them as I sucked on her neck for dear life. Going back and forth between grazing her neck with my teeth then licking over the area to soothe any imprint I’ve left.

Nellie crisscrossed her arms reaching for the hem of her top gracefully pulling it over her head. She purposely fell backwards onto the mattress aiming her shirt at my face. For as long as I’ve known Nell she was never one to be shy in her own skin.

“Imagine how unsexy that would have been if I hit my head on the headboard.”

“As long as you didn’t hurt yourself I would have just pretended that I didn’t see a thing.” I teased.

“Ah, to think they wonder where all of the good men have gone.” Nell scrunched up her nose pretending to be lost in critical thought.

I cock my head to the side. “Mm-hmm. Are you mocking me?”

“What if I am?”Her plump wet lips spread into a smile.

It was miracle I caught a word of what she said to me. I swallowed a groan as my eyes drift over the area of her body that was naked from the waist up. Nellie was clearly a stolen painting from the Louvre that I had no intention of returning. All I could do was stare.

With her legs still draped around me, my hands slide up the curve of her torso passing her ribs. I sensed that she was watching me, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off of her just yet. The pads of my fingers traced over to her breast and my mouth practically watered at the sight of them. She was ethereal.

“Don’t suddenly go mute on me Sebastian.” She let out a shaky breath.

I’ve heard her say my name a thousand times. Hearing her say it in this state created a feeling of warmth that filled my chest. I could only begin to imagine the different ways I wanted to hear her call out my name. My gift, my best friend, my Nellie. Those last words had a sting to them even as I thought them. Deep down I knew that was never going to be true.

I eased all the way down my tongue traveling around the dip of her navel. Creating a path up the center of her abdomen. I knew that Nell was extremely ticklish. The slightest form of contact would automatically turn her into a ninja. From the way she was pressing herself back into the mattress I knew she was trying her hardest not to flee. Of course I found it rather enticing so I made sure to spend extra time over the areas of her exposed skin I knew to be the most sensitive. Brushing the tip of my nose between her breast my mouth finally latched on to what I’ve been waiting for.

“So fucking beautiful.” I say as I graze my mouth over the stiff peak of her nipple. I was in awe over the ability that they simultaneously could feel hard yet felt extremely soft. I dragged the tip of my tongue around the bud of it in a languid movement before sucking it in deep. I loved listening to the sounds she made while I sucked and devoured as much as I could fit into my mouth. I wanted to hear a symphony of the noises that escaped from Nellie.

Going for one after the other not wanting to miss out on either. Nellie kept a limp hand pressed into my hair keeping me close as if I dared to stop.

Writhing underneath me Nellie gasped,“Touch me.”

Now she understood what I meant. My own body felt betrayed by my decision. I literally ached from pain and pleasure. Truthfully I wouldn’t opt for a better scenario than this. I would be more than gratified with giving Nellie an orgasm or two.

Still leaving featherlight kisses across her chest. With one hand I reach down and brushed along the dip of Nellie’s hip, then began to tug away at her shorts. To my surprise she was bare underneath. This was a new and uncharted territory we were crossing.

Tell me to stop, say that this is just the wrong time, tell me we would never work. Those words never escaped me, the sound of the goddamn doorbell intervened for her. My movements hesitated then shortly I picked up on inaudible chattering out in the hall. Nellie turned her head in the direction towards the door which I hoped like hell was locked. “Maybe we should go see what’s going on.” Her eyes widened.

“Or we could stay here and not shame the fact that I was two seconds away from wrapping your legs around my face while I tasted the slickness between your thighs. ” Nellie released a ragged breath and I meant every word.

To my dissatisfaction we were composed in under three minutes. I felt a strange sense of comfort and pride seeing that ever so often I’d catch Nellie looking in my direction smiling like she had some big secret she was bursting to tell. Which only made me feel like an even bigger asshole. The walk downstairs was surprisingly noisy. Someone had plugged the Christmas tree back up and there was a chilly wind breaking in as the front door came to an immediate shut.

Nellie’s parents were both moving around in a fast pace trying to find new spots to put a couple of suitcases. I had to swallow down a chuckle at the sight of their bold choice of pajamas. Nellie had already beaten me to the bottom of the staircase just as I rounded the corner of the spiral stairs.

“Cousin!” Vanessa squealed rushing over towards Nellie, who excitedly embraced her the same. They exchanged a few excitable words to each other that I tuned out. I was busy focusing on the six foot son of a bitch with a puppy dog expression on his face standing awkwardly behind them.

“Now you know Nells Bells you can’t have Christmas without good ole St. Nicholas can you?” She winked at a stone faced Nellie who just looked straight ahead at her ex boyfriend Nick. “I hope it’s okay I brought him over with me. I saw him at the airport dozed off in a chair.” Vanessa whispered as she leaned into Nell, like she just earned a gold star. Soon as Vanessa’s wild dark brown eyes caught ahold me I knew my bubble was about to pop.

“Something told me I was off the naughty list this year.” Vanessa bit at her glossed up lips and made a beeline towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She smelled like an overtly sweet perfume that tortured my sinuses. “Did you forget how to work a phone or what? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I miss you.” She cooed.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nellie watching the two of us. This was my punishment.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian x reader #marvel imagine #sebbytrash #sebby stan #bucky fandom #marvel smut #mcu smut #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #sebastian smut #mcu fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian stan fic #sebbybarnes #sebastian fluff #sebastian stan fandom #bucky fic #fic #sebastian stan story #sebastian stan one shot #Sebastian Stan fluff #sebastian oneshot

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 6

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

You didn’t sleep. It just wasn’t possible, not when your mind was still going 500 miles per hour replaying every little detail of your time together in Baekhyun’s office. The way he sucked on the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, how you felt him dig into your hip as he’d sandwiched you between himself and the wall. Your entire stomach felt like it might leave your body if you didn’t get a hold of yourself. What end it would come out of, you had yet to decide on. 

The night dragged on and on and eventually you gave up, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. Sleep was not an option when your brain felt like it was running a marathon with you powerless to stop it. The thought just would not stop. Your own hormone filled brain had you by the balls.

Eventually you dragged your groggy self into the shower in an attempt to wake back up. The second you felt the hot water pour over your skin, you felt some of the tension in your muscles dissipate. It was like you could finally breathe deeply again, the heat forcing your body to relax, at least physically.

 By the time you were out of the shower it was around 5:00am. When you stepped out and began to dry yourself off you noticed the trail of dark purple marks going all the way from your neck down to your collarbones. Damn genetics for making you bruise so easily. You internally cursed yourself for letting him leave marks on you at all, but of course that had been the last thing on your mind in the moment. Mia would immediately have something to say when she saw them too, and you were not ready to recant the events of the night prior out loud to her. 

Seeing as it was already the early morning you decided it would be best to just get ready and get out of the house so you wouldn’t have to face her yet. You did your usual routine, and decided that after all the stress you’d been through in the last several hours, you’d treat yourself to breakfast at your favorite bakery. It was a quaint little place only a few blocks away that had amazing croissants and coffee and you figured it would at least temporarily help block out the crippling thoughts of his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck. Why the fuck did it have to feel that good?? 

You didn’t bother trying to cover the marks. It was far too warm still to wear anything like a turtleneck and you knew they were too dark for concealer to work. Damn his beautiful lips for creating something so visible yet so blasphemous.

After finishing your usual morning routine, you headed to the café and ordered your favorite. 

Croissant in hand, you were flipping through a book, sitting and enjoying your coffee when you heard your name, and looked up to see a familiar man, tall and slightly dorky looking, gazing down at you. 

“Yeah that's me, Chanyeol, right?” You asked.

“Yeah...” He stared down at you with an unreadable look on his face, and you wondered if he would force you to talk to him. You had only met Chanyeol once before, the first night he brought Baekhyun to your work. “Can I sit down?” 

“Uh... I guess. How do you know my name?” 

In all honesty you really did not want him to sit down with you. Of course he would want to talk about Baekhyun. You’d have rather poured your hot coffee down your pants than talked to him in that moment. This was exactly what you’d come here to avoid but the universe just had not been on your side lately. 

“Baekhyun told me. I’m glad I ran into you, I’ve never seen you here before, I always get my coffee here in the morning.”

“Well I’m usually not much of a morning person.” You replied, eyes on your coffee as you raised the mug to your lips, hoping it would magically invigorate you with the energy to have this conversation. It didn’t. 

“I actually need to talk to you about him.”

You immediately groaned in frustration. “Does this have to happen right now? I’m trying to have a relaxing morning and I’d really rather not talk about him right now.” You looked at him with a face that more or less said ‘please for the love of god just leave me alone’ but unfortunately for you he was quite determined, so he sat down across from you anyway. This stranger was really about to ruin your desperate attempt at a peaceful morning. 

“Just.. please be careful with him.” He started. “He’s the best person I know and he’s been through a lot recently. I don’t know what your intentions are with him but he likes you a lot and I don’t want to see him get hurt even more than he already has been.” 

You sighed. You could see where he was coming from. Anyone would be worried about their friend if they were in his situation. He probably thought you still only wanted Baekhyun’s money, that you were just the stripper who hit the jackpot with a guy who’s rich and nice. It was a realistic thing to be worried about. Customers like him were definitely the most profitable and girls would string them along all the time knowing how attached they were and take their money anyway. The more they thought they actually had a chance, the more they were generally willing to spend, too.  

“If you think I’m just using him for his money, I’m really not. I don’t know how much he’s told you, but last time he paid me I even tried to give it back.”

“Yeah he told me about that, so I figured you weren’t all bad, but still. And he talks to me about you a lot. It almost makes me regret bringing him to the club in the first place. If you end up screwing him over I’ll feel like it’s my fault too you know. That’s why I knew I had to say something when I saw you.” 

“You’re a good friend. But you really don’t need to be worried.” 

He raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Does he know you’re seeing other people?” 

You gave him a puzzled look, but quickly understood when his eyes drifted down to the marks decorating the skin of your neck. You knew he was only asking to protect his friend, but the accusing look on his face irked you anyway. Blood was already rushing to your cheeks at the thought of having to tell him where they’d really come from. 

“I, um, I’m actually not seeing other people...” You crossed your arms over your chest, slumping down into your seat in a subconscious effort to hide. By now you knew you were probably red all over, easily giving you away. The feeling of dread made its way back into your stomach, and your croissant didn’t even seem appealing to you anymore. “You haven’t talked to him since last night have you?” 

 His eyes went so wide you worried for a moment that they might pop right out of his skull and roll across the table and into your lap. 

“Did he..?” You nodded slowly, desperately trying to avoid giving him any of the thrilling details. “You guys slept together? You didn’t just come from his place did you? You didn’t just leave? I swear to god if you-”

“No!” You quickly clarified. “We didn’t sleep together, and I never went to his house, we just, um..” Your guts felt like they were about to end up on the table again, but Chanyeol was still looking at you expectantly. “I needed help with an assignment so I went to his office last night... we kissed, but that’s all.” 

“Quite some kiss it seems...” He said staring at the path of blue and purple that went all the way from below your ear to the hem of your shirt. And oh how he was right. It really had been something. Never in your life had a kiss affected you as much as Baekhyun’s had. Of course it had been much much more than just one little kiss, but there was no way you were going to say any more. The feeling of your stomach desperately trying to escape your body was too strong and you liked this café too much to get kicked out for vomiting all over the booth. 

“I thought more was gonna happen but he kind of threw me out of his office before we could, you know...” 

“He threw you out?” 

“Yeah, like grabbed my arm, dragged me into the hallway, and slammed the door behind him.” 

“Jesus what a dumbass.” You heard him whisper. “Do you like him the same way he likes you though?” You hesitated for a moment, but nodded again, and immediately noticed how his face lit up. “You know I really thought you were just going with it for the money. I’m glad you actually care about him as a person.” 

 “I mean I’ve known him a while now, how could I not...” You found yourself staring down at your hands as you fidgeted nervously, avoiding eye contact with the man in front of you. “Even if he wasn’t my professor now, he’s still just a good guy. I’ve never had a customer like him before. As dumb as it is, I’d be stupid not to like him, he makes it too easy.”

At that point Chanyeol was smiling widely back at you. “He’s an amazing guy, and he’s crazy about you. You won’t regret it.” A smile plastered itself onto your face as well, satisfied with his comment. “You know at first when me and the other guys found out he was coming back to see you every weekend we gave him so much shit.” 

You laughed, because you could imagine it perfectly. It honestly was quite stupid of him to get involved with a stripper of all people. You saw how many times guys would try to start something real with you or the other girls at your work only to leave with a broken heart and empty pockets, but that was just a part of your job. When you were first starting out you’d feel bad for them sometimes, but eventually you got used to it. These men weren’t exactly the pinnacle of society anyway, you told yourself. It didn’t help that those guys were always willing to spend more money too. They were really just screwing themselves over. It’s silly to expect anything real from a woman whose job it is to take money in exchange for temporary affection. Technically Baekhyun was also just another one of those stupid men who got themselves in too deep with someone completely unattainable, only now you actually liked him too.

“He is an idiot for that, for sure, but I’m just as much of an idiot for liking him back so I guess he won.” You laughed together, and you were beginning to feel much more at ease with him and with the conversation, thank heavens. 

“Thanks for letting me sit down, you really have no idea how much of a relief this is.” You rolled your eyes, you hadn’t allowed him to do anything, he’d just done it anyway. “I was so worried I got him into something that would hurt him even more. Women tend to really fuck him over.” 

His last statement puzzled you. Was he talking about Baekhyun’s ex? Sure what she did was awful, but had things really ended that badly? From the brief talk you’d had with him about her he didn’t seem to be that affected anymore but that was only one conversation. 

“Can I ask what the deal is with his ex?” Chanyeol leaned back, crossing his arms. His brows were furrowed, looking agitated by your question. “Sorry if that’s too far but I feel like that’s kind of important and I know almost nothing about her.” 

“She’s fucking bitch is all you need to know.” He scoffed. “They were together for 4 years and the whole time she treated him like a doormat. I never liked her. But it’s not really my place to talk.” 

“Oh... Sorry for asking, It’s just I found some pictures on Facebook when I looked him up. They looked really happy, she’s really pretty too.” You felt slightly embarrassed at your own words, but the curiosity was killing you. 

“Sure she looks nice but she’s a goddamn demon on the inside and they definitely weren’t happy, although she loved to make it look like they were so their families would keep being supportive. He deserves someone who actually gives a shit about him as a person, and not just what he can offer them. He cares about the people around him too much sometimes. Even when she’d treat him like shit he’d make excuses for her, saying she was dealing with things too, or some other bullshit.” 

Your heart ached. “Was he really upset when she left?”

You heard him let out a disappointed sigh, and knew the answer was yes. “Of course he knew she was only trying to use him for his money at that point, he’s not stupid, but when you’ve spent years of your life trying to make something work it still sucks when it ends. His parents really liked her too, they would get onto him all the time about why he hadn’t married her yet or given them grandkids. Thank god he didn’t. I think that’s what made it really sting when she left though. She didn’t just betray him she betrayed them too.” 

“What a bitch...” You were in disbelief that anyone could treat someone as wonderful as him so cruelly. The idea of him having possibly married her made you feel sick all over again.

“Yeah, she’s pretty much a megacunt. Thank god you seem to have a conscience.” He joked.

“I’m not gonna hurt him if I can help it. He’s so sweet I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I did.” 

“Well I’m glad to hear it.” He gave you a deep-dimpled smile and you laughed. “I’ll leave you alone now, I have work to get to, but thank you again for talking to me.”

“No problem.” You smiled back. “Hopefully you like me better than her already.” You joked. 

“That doesn’t take much” he laughed “but yes, definitely.” He got up and waved you goodbye, leaving you to enjoy the rest of your breakfast. 

In the end you were glad you’d run into him. You hadn’t given much thought to what Baekhyun’s friends might think about you, but it was a relief that the person closest to him didn’t just think you were using him for his money anymore. Obviously everything about your relationship with Baekhyun looked terrible on paper, and being able to explain your intentions made it feel like there was weight lifted off your chest that you hadn’t even known was there. 

~

Baekhyun woke up to his phone blowing up with messages from Chanyeol. Unlike you, he’d slept like a baby once the excitement of the evening had worn off a bit. 

Chanyeol: (7:23am) Just got done talking to your new gf, you seemed to have a fun night. About time you finally made a move on her.   

Chanyeol: (7:46am) You better call me when you wake up and tell me what the hell went down though. 

Chanyeol: (8:37am) Dude you’re killing me 

Baekhyun groaned when he read the messages, mind immediately thinking about all the embarrassing things Chanyeol could’ve possibly told you. Of course he talked to his best friend about you all the time, but you didn’t need to know that. His hands felt clammy as he began typing out a response

Baekhyun: (9:04am) What the hell did you guys talk about??? 

Chanyeol: (9:06am) She didn’t need to say much, you made things pretty clear with the way you attacked her neck, that shit looked intense. Good for you bro. 

Baekhyun quickly dialed his friend’s number, and not even one ring in he picked up. 

“What the fuck?” Baekhyun started, a bit too loud for how early it still was. “Why were you talking to her? What did you say to her? I swear to god if you told her some dumb shit I’m gonna-” 

“Relax! You know I’m a good wingman! I ran into her at the café and just wanted to make sure she wasn’t still leading you on for the money or anything so we talked for a little while. But she seems to genuinely care about you, I think she likes you a lot actually.” 

Baekhyun felt his heart skip a beat at his friend’s statement. Of course he figured you liked him after what had happened in his office, especially since you’d said it to him directly, but the fact that you had discussed your feelings for him with his best friend made it feel even better. He still thought that maybe you’d regret it in the morning, or it was just hormones that led you to act the way you did.

“What did she say?” 

“Well at first I thought she’d let someone else mark her up like that so I called her out, but then she told me what happened in your office last night. Well, sort of.” 

“Sort of?” 

“She didn’t seem to really want to talk about it in detail so I didn’t make her, but any girl would have to be crazy about a guy to him them maul their neck like that. I thought y’all had gotten into some weird BDSM shit at first. And why the fuck did you kick the poor girl out of your office? Are you dumb? You were totally about to get some.” 

“Because we were in my office.” 

“So? That’s pretty hot if you ask me.” 

“I just... I like her too much to end up fucking on the desk in my office like some sort of horny animal. I need to do it right, she deserves that much.” 

“That’s up to you, but man you must have some serious self control. She’s really hot.” 

“Watch it buddy.” Baekhyun said, trying to sound as threatening as one can over the phone. “What else did she tell you?”

“That was pretty much it about last night, she did ask about Jisoo though. I’m telling you she’s into you if she wants to know about your ex.” 

Even just the mention of her was enough to sour Baekhyun’s good mood. 

“What did you tell her about her?” 

“That I think she’s a massive bitch, obviously. And that you deserve better than that.”

Baekhyun stayed silent. He knew Chanyeol was right of course, she wasn’t a good person and he was better off now without her in his life but the way he talked about her still bothered him. 

“You don’t have to call her a bitch every time she comes up, I know she’s far from perfect but she’s still a person you know.” 

“Why are you even defending her? She fucked you up. And you actually seem to have found a girl who isn’t going to step all over you this time. So don’t ruin it.” 

“I’m not going to. Or at least I’m gonna try my best. I like this girl a lot.” 

“I know, you never shut the hell up about her. And she likes you enough to be stressing about your ex, so relax. She’s into you.” 

A small smile pulled at Baekhyun’s lips. After all this time, you really did like him. How fucking cool was that? The hottest girl at the strip club, who he’d fallen head over heels for like some dumb kid, was into him for real now. 

“Thanks bro, I needed to hear that.” 

“I know, I’m the best. So when are you asking her out?” 

Baekhyun felt stupid for not having considered that yet. Technically he was still just your professor/customer with benefits, but that definitely wasn’t the title he wanted to keep forever. 

“Shit I don’t know... Where do I even take her? What do I do? I haven’t had to do this in years.” 

“She’s a college student, I’m sure a nice dinner would impress her enough. You just have to do better than those greasy kids she goes to school with.” Chanyeol suggested casually, but Baekhyun wasn’t having it. 

“I want to do something special, not just some lame dinner. I’m sure she’s had plenty of college boys take her out to expensive restaurants with daddy’s money before. I have to do better than that.”  He was pacing now, trying to think of what the hell people even did for first dates aside from get food or see a movie. 

“Do something different then, drive her out into the country and prepare a nice picnic or something and watch the sunset together, girls love romantic shit like that.” 

“First I have to ask her out though, maybe I should bring some chocolate and flowers too. I want it to be perfect. And for her to say yes.”

“I know you’ll do great, don’t worry about it too much, she already likes you anyway. She’s gonna say yes. Just don’t say anything weird and she’ll totally fall in love with you.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.”

It was getting later and later in the morning and Baekhyun needed to actually start getting work done, so he ended the call there. 

He had come up with some ideas for the date throughout the day, but they would all require quite some planning. He was going to do whatever he could to make sure you were thoroughly swept off your feet, he wouldn’t accept anything less than that. 

First though, he had to make sure you’d agree to go at all. 

~

The rest of your Thursday was spent more or less successfully getting Baekhyun off your mind with various school work and other mundane tasks. You’d stayed on campus, still avoiding Mia but eventually your classes were over and you needed to get back home. You knew you’d have to face her eventually anyway and at least now you’d had enough time to chill out about it a little.

Unfortunately for you Mia was in the living room when you entered the apartment, and within seconds her eyes traveled to your neck and she squealed with delight. 

“Y/N!!! PLEASE TELL ME YOU FINALLY GOT SOME DICK.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” You responded, cringing and taking your shoes before going to sit with her on the couch. 

“But something happened! Tell me everything!!”    

So you did. Right down to his dick stabbing you through his pants and how he kicked you out of his office. Unlike Chanyeol, you knew she wouldn’t leave you alone until she knew everything, and in great detail, so you didn’t hold back. 

You felt all the emotions from the previous night rushed back to you as you got into the intricacies of the kiss itself. This was exactly what you knew would happen, and why you’d been avoiding it. The whole time Mia just stared and nodded, seemingly fascinated by your thrilling tale. You were thankful she hadn’t made fun of you at all for how flustered you were getting while talking about it. 

When you were finally done retelling everything, she didn’t speak. Instead she pulled you into a tight hug. 

“You like him a lot, I can tell. And he has a lot of respect for you if he had enough self control to make you leave before more could happen. I think he could be really great for you.” She pulled back to look at you, keeping both hands on your shoulders. “And I’ve never heard you talk about a guy like that before.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever liked someone the way I like him. He’s not some college boy, he’s a real man. It just feels different. Much more... real.” 

“Do you want something real with him? More than just a fling?” You nodded. “Do you think he’ll ask you out on a real date?” 

“I hope so.” 

“I hope so too. I’m sure he’ll come up with something amazing for you guys.” She smiled, lightly punching your shoulder in excitement. 

You felt elated to finally have gotten everything off your chest. Talking about it really hadn’t been that bad, if anything it only strengthened how you felt for him.

“I’m really lucky, aren’t I?” You asked, letting yourself fall backwards to lay across the couch. 

“Duh. You found a super cute, nice, and rich guy who thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread. Any girl would envy you.” Her eyes went wide, and you could practically see the lightbulb manifest itself and flicker on over her head. “He has hot friends right?” 

You laughed, amused by her usual boy craziness. “Yeah, he has some pretty cute friends but I don’t really know any of them, give me some time and I’ll report back to you if any of them are available.” 

For some reason, you didn’t tell her about your conversation with Chanyeol. Maybe it was what he’d said about Baekhyun’s ex that was still hanging in the back of your mind, but it didn’t seem like something you needed to bring up to her now anyways. 

“Well, please do let me know.” She responded, grinning, getting up from the couch and making her way into the kitchen. 

“Aye aye captain.” You shot a thumbs up at her from the couch, giggling. 

She ended up cooking dinner for the both of you, and you spent the rest of the evening collectively fantasizing about what sort of extravagant outing he’d take you on once he asked you on an official date. 

You couldn’t wait.  

Next Chapter

A/N: Just wanna say I love Jisoo and used her name purely to convey the characters appearance! She in no way represents the real Jisoo who is obviously a wonderful girl :)  also if the spacing is weird on mobile I blame the fact that I wrote this on my laptop 🥴 sorry

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fic #exo fic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff

[ongaku-ato-kakikomi]

I dunno if you still write reader inserts, but I was wondering if you could write a Count Olaf x fem reader that starts out really sad, but has a happy ending where they both fall in love with each other. Like the reader was captured by him & had depression & it reminded Olaf of how he felt when his parents were killed.

(A/N): Thank you for your request! I tried my best to capture Count Olaf’s personality and make it realistic, but I’m sorry if it doesn’t sound like him. Also, it’s rather long. I hope you’ll still like it nonetheless!

“Stop sighing.” You tense up as soon as you hear his voice, your eyes shifting towards his form drinking at his grand table. “It’s annoying.”

“... sorry.” You continue to clean the floor with your bare hands, the soap stinging the opened cuts on your fingers. “I won’t do it again.”

You haven’t even noticed that you were sighing, too enraptured by your past memories. Remembering your old life was the only way for you to stay sane in, every single day you had to spend in this place only bringing your mental health further down. You couldn’t bear to live in this reality where you had to clean and cook for this man and his idiotic group of “friends”. You just... couldn’t. So whenever you can, you travel far away into your happy childhood whenever you could... until it becomes too painful for you to stay there.

You feel your bottom lip starting to quiver, your hand flying towards your mouth to hide it as your eyes fill up with water. You miss your family; you miss your friends... you miss the life you had before you got taken away.

You miss being happy.

Count Olaf frowns when he sees your expression change, a snarl of disgust forming on his. “If you dare cry again...”

You let go of the brush to hide your face with your hands, careful not to sting your eyes with the remaining soap on your fingers. “I’m... sorry...!”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance as soon as he hears the quiver in your voice, bringing his liquor to his lips. “I swear to fucking god...” He takes a sip, looking at you with pure frustration. “...you’re the most annoying servant I’ve ever had.”

“I’m really... sorry...!” You try your best to wipe away your tears, remembering some of the punishments you got when he first brought you here. “I can’t... control it...”

He almost scoffs, his eyes looking at his plate of food so he can properly cut the steak you cooked for him. He stops when he hears you whimper once more, his head snapping at you.

“I told you to stop crying!-”

His scream dies on his lips as soon as he sees your reddish face, the expression of pure desperation on your features bringing a memory he thought he forgot. It looked like the face he used to see in the mirror, the one that appeared after his father died so many years ago. Now that sadness and desperation have turned into anger and a need for revenge.

“I’m sorry, I’ll...” You shake your head, trying to take control back on your feelings. “I’ll do better-”

“Get out.”

You look at him in shock, his voice sounding like something you’ve never heard from him before. “... what?”

“I said ‘Get out!’“ He pushes his plate of food away from him, an unreadable expression on his face. “And take this away! It’s disgusting!”

You slowly stand up, your hands trembling as you approach him. “I... yes, of course-”

You rapidly take the plate and run out of the room, a spark of hope in your eyes. Are you actually going to be able to eat something good tonight? Would he be mad if he finds out?

He watches you leave with an attentive eye, an unknown glint in them. He simply stays silent, soon taking a few more sip of his liquor. 

You don’t need to know that he lied about the food.

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

“What are you doing?”

You jump up at the sound of his voice, turning around as soon as you realize that he’s here, in the kitchen. “I... um... washing the dishes...?”

Count Olaf never step a foot in this room, not even to yell at you for your incompetence as a slave. The fact that he was here, standing right at the entrance with that frustrated expression on his face, only made you wearier. You must have done something extremely bad for him to be there... right?

Meanwhile, he lets his eyes wander from one wall to the other, noticing the disappearance of all the dirt and disgusting things he had thrown in there for the past few years. Even the walls look cleaner than they did before, something he never even thought was possible.

“... You did a good job.” Your eyes widen with surprise, your fingers slightly letting go of the counter you were holding on to so tightly. “For once.”

“I... thank you-”

“But don’t think you can slack off.” He gives you a glare before he steps out, his hands joined behind his back. “I’ve invited people for lunch. So get to cooking.”

“Y-yes! I will! Um...” Your hesitation makes him stop in his tracks, his head slightly turning towards you with a flame in them. “... anything... you want in particular?”

He gives out a sinister grin. You almost want to hit you in the face. The last time you asked him that, he told you to shut up and just guess what he wants-

“Whatever. I don’t care.” His answer surprises you once more, your mouth almost opening wide. “These idiots don’t deserve a grand meal anyway so just do something edible.”

“Ah... yes. I’ll... get right to it.”

“Good.” He starts to leave once more, his voice getting louder as he disappears. “And I don’t wanna hear you crying!”

You just stare at the entrance of the room, shock still plastered over your features.

What... is going on...?

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

“Stop.” 

You freeze, internally begging the universe to save you from this situation. You were passing by Count Olaf in the hallway with a bunch of clean and folded clothes in your arms, having the intention of leaving them in his room like usual... but for some reason, he decided to stop you today. Why? What did you do wrong?

You almost flinch when you see his hand approach your face; your eyes closed tight. You feel his fingers take a strand of your hair, your eyes slowly opening to see what he’s doing.

“.. is... there something wrong?”

You noticed his eyes observing the strand of hair he’s holding onto, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Your hair’s disgusting.” He lets go of it, looking at you with his nose snarling up. “And your scent is unbearable.”

“Ah... sorry...” You feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up on your cheeks. “I... I don’t have any more of the soap you gave me-”

“Use mine.” Your eyes widen once more, though he rapidly makes a small movement with his hands when he realizes what he’s saying. “Don’t get any ideas in your head! I just can’t stand the way you smell and I want you to get rid of it.”

“I...” He walks away before you can say anything, your eyes carefully watching him leave. “... okay...?”

The fact that he was slowly starting to give you more freedom made you both happy and suspicious. You couldn’t pinpoint why he was suddenly being this way... Seriously, why is he nice to you?

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

You give out a scream as you turn around, seeing Count Olaf standing right at the entrance of your ‘room’.

“I... sorry!” You hide your mouth, realizing how loud your scream was. “I... um... can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer you, his eyes scanning every inch of your ‘bedroom’.

“... do you like this room?”

You’re taken aback by his question, having expected him to ask you to clean or cook or something. “Um... yeah, yeah, I like it.”

He turns his eyes towards you, a glare in them. “I don’t like when people lie to me.”

You stay silent, fear bubbling inside your stomach. “I... sorry.”

“Ugh.” He rubs his fingers against his temples. “Stop saying you’re sorry. It’s even more annoying than your crying.”

You have to bite your bottom lip to stop another ‘sorry’ from coming out of your mouth, taking everything this man says seriously. You haven’t been punished in weeks, but you do not want to make him angry.

He gives out a grin when he notices your efforts. “You learn quick. Good.”

“Thank you-”

“Shut up; I’m not done talking.” You rapidly close your mouth again, his eyes now looking around your room once more. “... this place is a dump. I’m giving you a new room.”

“What?” You blink in shock; the more time passes, the less you understand this man. “I... thank you...!”

Your words make his grin widen, pride appearing in his eyes. Helping people is something he usually despises... but hearing you thank him every time he does something relatively nice for you makes him feel... happy. In a way.

How disgustingly satisfying.

“It’s the one upstairs, a few rooms from mine. You know the one.” He walks out of the room but stops a few feet away to send you a look. “You have ten minutes to move your things over there before I change my mind.”

He chuckles when he sees you run around the room to grab the few pieces of stuff you own, his feet soon taking him away.

It’s still much funnier to mess with you.

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

You warily stand at the entrance of the living room, your eyes carefully watching Count Olaf gulp down another glass of wine he stole from a nearby store last week. He’s been like this ever since he came back from the outside, the grin he was wearing this morning now replaced with angry deformed features.

“Stupid theater...” He mumbles under his breath, still drinking the wine. “... can’t recognize talent when they see it...”

“... Are you okay?”

His eyes snap towards you, which makes your body tense up. “... why do you care?”

“I...” You open and close your mouth a few times, hesitating. “I’m just... worried...?”

He snorts, too drunk to even throw something at you.... or so you guess.

“I don’t like people lying to me, remember?”

“I’m not lying.” You take a few steps into the room, his eyebrow quirking up as he watches you get closer. “You look... sad.”

“I’m not sad.” It’s your turn to quirk an eyebrow at him, his eyes rolling soon after. “Alright, fine! I’m sad! Happy?”

“... no.” You slowly sit down on a chair next to him, your answers only making him surprised. “Of course not.”

... maybe you don’t hate him as much as he thought you did. Or maybe you’ve become crazy. He learned kidnapped people sometimes become crazy and start liking their kidnappers or some shit like that.

“... if you want...” You hesitate to talk, knowing how impulsive he can be when he’s angry. “... you can talk to me about it.”

He stares at you in silence for a long while, making you feel uneasier with each second passing. 

“... thanks.” You look at him in shock, not quite sure if you’ve ever heard this word come out of his mouth before. “... don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t.” Your lips stretch out into a small smile, his cheeks warming up as soon as he sees it. “Your secret safe with me.”

He grumbles, looking away from your face. “... whatever.”

You smiled. You never smiled before. You’ve always... cried, or sighed, or looked shocked. This is... new.

He likes it.

“So?” You put your arms on the table, tilting your head at him. “... what happened?”

“... Idiots being idiots...” He makes a movement with his hand, almost dropping his glass. “The usual.”

“... what did they do?”

Soon enough, he finds himself talking harshly about the theater people he met today, which soon turns into a long monologue about how stupid people are for not recognizing his talent and hiring him to do shows. Then he starts talking about his minions, how incompetent and infuriating they can be. He then starts talking about another topic, then another topic, pouring his heart out without even noticing... and you listen to every bit of it, not once traveling far away into your past memories of your old life. Instead, your smile slowly stretches out onto your cheeks with every word he lets out as your body relaxes, finding every story he tells absolutely fascinating.

And maybe you slowly start forgetting about the bad things he’s done to you.

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

“I got good news!”

You turn your eyes away from the balustrade you’ve been trying to clean, and instead set them on Count Olaf coming back from the outside. He gives out a large wide grin as he walks towards you, a shining excitement in his eyes. 

“It’s official!” He stretches his arms out. “I’m gonna perform my show every Friday night!”

“Really?” Your eyes widen with surprise, your lips stretching out into a wide smile. “You found a theater?”

“Well, they didn’t want to at first, but...” He makes a movement with his hand. “After I dropped the main director into acid, they gave me an opening pretty quickly.”

You quickly ignore that last comment, your arms suddenly wrapping around him for a hug. “That’s great news!”

He tenses up as soon as you hug him, his eyes widening in shock. He feels like a shot of electricity is violently running through his body, his now shaking hands slowly moving to grab your shoulders.

“... I know.” He tries to smile proudly to forget what he’s feeling, gently pushing you away. “Didn’t you hear me when I walked in? You might be more of an idiot than I thought.”

You give out a chuckle, the sound of it making his lips stretch out genuinely.. 

“I’m happy for you.” Your eyes spark up with joy as you look at him, though it’s your words that make his throat shrink. “You deserve this.”

He looks into your eyes, a sort of peaceful feeling overcoming him as soon as he does. It’s a feeling he’s been getting for quite some time now... and it only seems to appear when he’s talking to you or thinking about you, which is happening a lot more than he originally intended to when he forced you away from your life. It’s... a nice feeling.

Maybe too nice.

He tries to clear his throat, heat creeping on his cheeks. “... of course I deserve this. I deserve every good thing on this earth.”

You tilt your head at him, a small frown of worry on your face. “Are you okay...?”

That’s another problem... how you manage to see through him now. The last time he let someone into his life, his father died... and he doesn’t quite wanna know what is going to happen if he lets you even further in.

“I’m fine.” He walks away from you, hiding half of his now reddish face with his arm. “Go back to work.”

You watch him leave with a confused look. He’s been so open and talkative with you these past few weeks, but now he’s running away? Did you do something wrong?

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

“Hey...” You make a peak into the living room, not liking to see him hunched over the fireplace with such a deeply serious expression on his face. “... did I do something wrong?”

“Huh?” He blinks a few times, slowly coming back to reality as he turns his eyes towards you. “... What?”

“Earlier...” You hesitate to speak, taking a few steps in. “... you looked angry... did I do something wrong?”

“... no. No, you didn’t.” He looks back at the fireplace, his past memories haunting him. “... not yet, at least.”

You frown, sitting down on the couch next to him. “What do you mean?”

He turns his eyes towards you. “... you’re gonna stab me in the back on day, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen, shock spreading on your face. “What?”

“Or you’re gonna die on me? Is that it? Is that what you’ve chosen?”

“What are you talking about-”

“People I love. They either die on me or betray me.” He squints his eyes at you, trying to see the future in your features. “I’m not sure which one you’re going to be.”

“I’m not-wait.” You blink, realization hitting you. “... did you say ‘people you love’?”

His eyes widen, an alarm ringing in his head. “No. No, I did not say that.”

“Yes, you did-”

“I did not!” He stands up and walks away, fear taking over his features. “You’re hallucinating! Must be all those cleaning products getting to your head!”

“... Olaf.” He barely manages to look back at you, an unreadable expression on your face as you stand up. “... do you love me?”

He slowly breathes in, not wanting to answer that question.

“Hey...” You give him a shaky smile, stopping a few feet away from him. “I don’t like people lying to me either.”

He gives out a small smile at your words.

“... I don’t know.” He shakes his head, trying to ignore his heartbeat ringing inside his head. “I... I really don’t know.”

You gently take one of his hands in yours, his eyes widening with surprise.

“It’s okay.” You smile gently. “I don’t know what I’m feeling either.”

“What if your feelings are fabricated?” His question takes you aback, staying silent as you listen to him. “You know... you’ve been stuck in here with me for months.”

“... I’d like to think they’re real.”

He knows they’re not. But he doesn’t know if he cares about that yet. 

“...well, listen, real or not... I’m not going to betray you.” Your smile slightly stretches out. “And I don’t plan on dying either.”

He gives out a small grin. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Your lips stretch out. “So don’t worry about that... okay?”

“I never worry.” You quirk an eyebrow at him, his grin widening. “ I heard it causes wrinkles.”

You just chuckle at those words, which is enough to make his soul sigh in relief.

He doesn’t know if he should let you further in yet; if he should let himself open up more, and maybe love someone again... 

... but right now, these simple moments aren’t that bad. 

So why not just enjoy them while he can?

#asoue #asoue imagine #asoue imagines #asoue x reader #count olaf #count olaf imagine #count olaf imagines #count olaf x reader #imagine #imagines #x reader #reader insert #request #requests

[thebonerpit]

plug me in and flip some switches [fic]

plug me in and flip some switches

Starker, 4687 words, [E], Android AU, read on Ao3 here!

A Starker Android AU/kinda-sorta Detroit: Become Human AU. Stark Industries is making androids, but somehow CyberLife has cornered the market on sex-bots. Tony decides to do some hands-on research and meets Peter, an android who is experiencing some very troubling malfunctions.

This is VERY loosely based on the D:BH world but it's mostly just a regular android AU and can be read as such. The only thing you need to know is androids have circular LEDs on their temples but otherwise look completely human.

It’s research. Pure and simple. Nothing else.

Tony repeats it like a mantra in his head as he steps through the front door of the club.

For years now he’s been competing with Kamski over at CyberLife, producing better and better android models and other technological marvels. CyberLife and Stark Industries models are commonplace now around the city, life-like bots that can do anything from mow your lawn to suck your dick.

The dick-sucking is why Tony is here, really.

As much as he hates to admit it, Kamski has the sex-bot market cornered. Tony can’t figure it out. His models are gorgeous, his patented StarkSkin is more realistic than anything that hack has come up with so far but somehow sales are pathetic next to CyberLife’s numbers. So… research. Covert research.

He’s not naïve enough to think some shoddy disguise will prevent him from being spotted, but the little device in his pocket that’s currently scrambling all the camera feeds will certainly help. He hands over his identification card to the android by the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Rhodes. Enjoy your visit.”

Yeah, about that… sorry Rhodey. Tony resolves to buy him a nice steak dinner to make up for it.

The club is clean, but tacky, at least in his opinion. Blue and purple lights give the place a strange glow and all the furniture looks expensive but uncomfortable. There are various models walking around and dancing on small stages, clothed but just barely, and a handful of human “customers” admiring the goods. He already feels like he needs a shower.

“Welcome to the Eden Club,” the android at the front desk says, her voice soothing and calm. “Would you prefer to browse our models on the floor, or in our catalogue?”

Tony isn’t particularly fond of wandering around the club aimlessly, especially with other patrons there, so he points at the screen being projected in front of him.

“Wonderful. Do you have a preference for gender?”

He shakes his head and waits to see if there’s any reaction from the android. She simply taps a few keys and the catalogue appears in front of him.

“You’ll find all of our models here. When you have selected one, press the blue button underneath their picture.”

Tony almost wants to ask her to just choose for him. It would make this whole thing less... deliberate. He glances quickly behind him to ensure no one else is there before looking through the first few pictures. A Steve model, with a gentle smile and wholesome good looks. A Natasha, who looks like she could probably kill him with a flick of her wrist. He swallows thickly and files that one away to come back to. A Bucky, a huge man with beautiful long hair and sad eyes. A Wanda, young but intense. As he swipes through the next few pages, none of them really stand out to him. What’s so damn special about these bots? He considers going back to the Natasha when he stops on one of the last photographs.

A Peter model. Tony has seen a few of the others throughout the city, but this one is new. Small and lithe, twinky, but well-muscled. The model rotates on the screen and Tony nearly chokes as his eyes fixate on what can only be described as an absolutely perfect ass encased in tight black boxer-briefs. But the face… jesus. Soft-looking waves of hair frame a gentle and innocent expression, slightly chubby cheeks contrast with a sharp little nose and jawline, and big brown eyes make him look even more frighteningly human than the others.

He presses the blue button before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Rhodes. Please follow me and I’ll take you to your private room.”

The android leads him down a long hallway lined with closed doors. Tony can’t hear any noises coming from within so he assumes there must be sound-proofing on all the rooms. The main club was too crowded for these to all be empty. She stops near the end of the hall and gestures to a door with a green light beside the handle.

“He’s ready for you. You have one hour from the time you open the door. Please remember that any damage done to the unit will be charged to your account. Enjoy your evening.”

She walks away without a second glance.

Tony exhales sharply.

“Alright. I guess this is happening.”

He opens the door and all his blood immediately rushes downward. Peter is a vision. He’s wearing nothing but those skimpy black boxer-briefs and is curled up like a cat in the middle of a huge, round bed. The sheets are dark red and the contrast against his pale skin is absolutely gorgeous. He perks up as soon as Tony walks in, skin flushing a pretty pink as he lets his eyes drag slowly up and down Tony’s body.

“Hello,” Peter says. No, not “Peter”. It’s an android. A bot. And Tony is here for research. RESEARCH.

“Uh. Hi there.”

His legs unfold gracefully as he slips off the edge of the bed to stand and extends a hand to Tony. He smiles, and Tony’s heart clenches.

“Come sit with me.”

“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” Tony says, wondering where his higher brain functions have gone. He takes the android’s hand and allows himself to be led over to the bed where they both sit. Peter doesn’t relinquish his gentle grip, and his palm is soft and warm against Tony’s.

“Is this your first time?”

Tony snorts. “What? No! I’ve… oh, you mean here?”

Peter nods, still smiling.

“Then yeah I guess so. Like a virgin, huh?”

The android laughs softly but Tony is sure he’s just programmed to do that. Adding in knowledge of Madonna’s entire back catalogue seems like a waste of processing space.

“What would you like to start with, Mr. Rhodes?”

Oh. Right.

“Well, first of all you can call me Tony.”

The boy – BOT – frowns slightly. “I apologize, that wasn’t the name I was—”

“It’s ok,” Tony says with a wave of his hand, “it’s a… nickname. I just like it better than James. Or Mr. Rhodes. Ugh, sounds so stuffy, doesn’t it? A boring name for a boring guy.”

The smile returns and Tony feels a brief squeeze of his hand.

“I’m sure you’re not boring at all, Tony.”

Ok yeah hearing his name in that sweet little voice is kind of doing it for him. But this has nothing to do with how the bot is built, this is Tony’s own weird perversion, so he powers through it.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not really here for the usual sex stuff ok? And… god, I can’t believe I’m about to apologize to an android, but I’m sorry in advance for what I need to do to you.”

Peter’s expression doesn’t change at all, which is slightly alarming. Tony expects him to be at least a little concerned about his well-being.

“I’m capable of taking anything you want to give me, Tony,” Peter says with that same sweet smile. “Nothing will shock me. Last week a man put his whole arm up my—”

“Ok! Ok, fuck, jesus, that’s… do not finish that sentence. And aren’t you supposed to like, not remember anything from your last clients? Seems like a real breach of privacy there.”

The frown returns and Tony hates the way it makes him feel.

“I… I’m so sorry, sir. My processor was damaged recently but I’ve run multiple diagnostics and though I should be in perfect working condition I seem to be malfunctioning. I’ll call another unit in for you.” The LED on the side of his head starts flashing but Tony grabs his arm.

“No!”

The flashing immediately ceases.

“No. Peter. It’s… you’re fine. Don’t worry about it ok? You’re great. Fantastic, even!”

“Ok?” He sounds unsure.

And then Tony realizes he has stumbled into the most perfect situation he could possibly be in.

“But if you’re worried, let me take a look.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, sir, I can’t allow you to do that.”

Tony smiles and reaches up to brush a stray curl off Peter’s forehead.

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m a fully licensed technician. Didn’t my profile mention…? Oh, right, it probably got all mixed up during the import just like my nickname. It isn’t your fault, Peter. But I can help.”

“It’s against club regulations,” Peter says. “Some parts of my body do open for customers who are interested in playing with my wires, but not the processor.”

“Playing with your--?”

“Fucking them. Inside. My stomach, for example, has a port. Our blue blood provides a non-toxic and natural lubricant.”

Tony is flabbergasted. He really shouldn’t be, he knows that humans are disgusting and will fuck anything they possibly can, but GOD. Maybe it’s the way Peter says it. So nonchalant, like explaining how a car motor works.

“Does that… how does that feel? For you, I mean?”

Peter bites his lip.

“I like it. It feels so good. Anything you want to do to me will feel good.”

“Of course it will,” Tony says with a sigh. His pleasure receptors must be maxed out. You could probably chop off his whole arm and he’d beg for more. “Listen kid, just let me—”

As soon as his finger gets close to the panel switch behind Peter’s ear an arm shoots up, lightning-fast, and grabs Tony’s wrist tight enough to bruise.

“Please don’t. I will call security if you try that again.”

Tony tries to wrench his arm free but it’s impossible. Fuck, he sometimes forgets how unassumingly strong these things are. Peter’s tone is serious but he still doesn’t look alarmed in any way.

“Ok, it’s alright, Peter, I won’t do it again. Now will you let go of me please?”

Peter blinks and his LED cycles to yellow for a moment before he snaps his hand back and quickly as he reached out before. Tony rubs at his wrist and raises an eyebrow at the red marks left by Peter’s fingers.

“I thought your program prevented you from harming a human? You’ve got quite a grip on you.”

Peter’s lower lip wobbled.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Please, I… I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I was just kidding around, it’s not that bad, see?” Tony waggles his wrist around in front of Peter’s face but the android isn’t pacified.

“Please let me call another model for you, sir, he’ll look just like me, I promise!”

“And what happens to you, then?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“If I send you back and say you’re defective, what happens to you?”

“Oh. I’ll be destroyed, sir. Like I said, my processor was already damaged and the repair must not have worked. I’m a faulty model now.”

Peter actually looks upset, but he covers it well. Not well enough for Tony not to notice, of course, and the flash of red on his LED is even more telling. Androids are able to mimic human emotion but they can’t actually feel anything. However, for a brief moment, Peter seems to actually consider his own mortality.

“And you’re ok with this?”

“Of course,” he says, quickly snapping out of whatever errant deviation must have happened. “My purpose is to serve you, to pleasure you. If I can’t fulfil my purpose anymore, I should be taken out of commission so another more functional version can take my place.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. This is exactly why he never spends time with any of his own android creations. Sure, he’s fond of DUM-E and U but they’re very obviously machines and if he has to poke and prod and rebuild them he doesn’t feel particularly bad about it. But this…

“You know what? Forget all of this, ok? You still seem very capable of, uh, providing pleasure so… let’s just go with that.”

Peter lights up at Tony’s words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

He can still examine some functions without poking around in Peter’s head. And hey, maybe he’ll get a decent orgasm out of this whole awkward experience.

Peter immediately slides into Tony’s lap, long legs spread on either side of his thighs, a small bulge visible through the front of his briefs.

“Please… tell me what you like, sir.”

Tony swallows thickly. “Well, the whole ‘sir’ thing is a good start.”

Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes and smiles.

“And that sweet little innocent thing you’ve got going on? Yeah, I like that a lot too, even though it makes me feel like an old pervert.”

Peter makes a soft cooing noise and leans in to nuzzle at Tony’s neck.

“You aren’t a pervert. I bet you like taking care of people, don’t you? Making them feel good? Teaching them?”

“Yeah,” Tony says, a bit breathless.

“I want you to teach me,” he whispers directly into Tony’s ear. It makes his whole body shudder and he grips Peter’s waist hard enough that a human would probably flinch away, but Peter just moans softly.

“I guess it’s kind of pointless asking what you like, hm? You probably like everything.”

The LED flashes red again, so quickly that Tony almost misses it. Tony grasps Peter’s chin gently in his hand to bring his face back up and then holds him in place.

“What do you like, Peter?”

“I… I—”

“Be honest, sweetheart.”

Another flash of red, longer this time.

“Eat me out. Please! It feels… it feels really good,” he says, his eyes a little wild, and Tony doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. This feels like more than just a program spitting out what it wants Tony to hear. It feels like he means it.

“Fuck, yeah, I can definitely do that. Get on your hands and knees for me sweetheart, and lose the briefs.”

Peter scrambles to comply and Tony takes the opportunity to shed all his clothing as well.

When he turns around Peter is spread out like a feast on the dark sheets. His ass, as Tony has suspected, is actually perfect. Round, plump, and practically made for Tony to bury his face in. So he does just that.

Peter gasps as Tony licks all the way from his balls to the top of his crack, one slick wet line. His skin tastes like, well, skin, although Tony still smugly maintains that his design is better. Tony spreads Peter’s cheeks with his thumbs and groans at the perfect pink hole waiting for his tongue.

“God, sweetheart, look at you. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Please,” Peter whimpers, wiggling his hips impatiently which earns him a sharp smack on one cheek.

“Be good.”

Another whimper, and Tony can feel the heat rising off Peter’s body. He reaches down in between his legs to palm at his cock, hard and dripping, and Peter jerks back against him so abruptly it nearly knocks him off the bed.

“Whoa, easy there tiger,” Tony says with a chuckle.

“S-sorry, I… it’s a lot. Your touch, it just… feels so good. So much better than anything else I’ve felt before.”

It must be a line, something a programmer thought would be attractive. ‘You’re the only one who can make me feel this way’! Yeah right. But again, Peter sounds so genuine, so completely overwhelmed… Tony shakes his head. No wonder CyberLife’s sex-bots are top of the line if this is what they’re all like.

He holds him open again and leans back down to suck and lick at that perfect hole, working all the excess saliva inside with his tongue and one thumb until Peter is practically dripping wet. He’s whining again, pushing back against Tony’s tongue like he can’t get enough.

“T-Tony, sir, I… I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

“Mmm you can hold off, can’t you? Not even inside you yet.”

“I can’t, I—”

Tony spears him open on his tongue and sucks, hard, and Peter squeals as he shoots synthetic fluid all over the sheets. Tony is… shocked, quite frankly, because Peter actually looks shocked too. Like he can’t believe he lost control. Can androids even lose control? His LED flickers wildly between blue, yellow, and red which is very disconcerting.

“Peter…”

“I’m sorry, it just felt so good, I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t—”

“Shhhh, shhh, hey, calm down sweetheart, it’s ok. You did so well for me. Look how pretty you are, all flushed and pink, hm?”

“I… I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Peter considers this for a moment and then smiles shyly over his shoulder.

“I can go again, sir. As many times as you like.”

Tony smirks, and Peter gives him another hip wiggle which makes Tony bark out a short laugh.

“God. Can I keep you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“Who wouldn’t be nice to you, hm?”

“I… oh, I’m…” Peter’s brow furrows and he looks so confused. “Quentin. Quentin? His name… he hurt me. Asked them to turn on my pain receptors. I remember… why do I remember?”

Tony feels like he just got whiplash. One minute he’s hard as a rock and now he’s gathering a shaking boy in his arms and soothing him with soft kisses on his cheeks. What the hell is going on here? Why DOES he remember? All these bots should be wiped clean after every encounter. This is starting to become a very disturbing pattern. Fuck, Tony needs to see inside his head.

Peter’s LED was bright red for about a full minute but now it’s back to cool blue, and he sits up in Tony’s lap and bites his bottom lip.

“Can we keep going? I really want you to fuck me.”

Jesus. His heart can’t take much more of this. He knows it’s an absolute dick move but he thinks if he can distract Peter long enough, he might be able to get to his shutdown switch without getting his arm broken. This is going to be the only chance he has, because if he lets Peter walk out of this room he’s never going to see him again.

“We can definitely keep going sweetheart,” he says. “Want to see your face when I fuck you. Is that ok?”

Peter nods and slides out of Tony’s lap to arrange himself on the bed, letting his legs fall open. He’s still dripping wet and Tony’s dick twitches back to life as he watches him press two slender fingers inside himself.

“Please,” he begs, and god, how could anyone say no to those beautiful doe eyes staring up at them?

Tony knows that all of these bots are self-lubricating, and that you could fuck them without any prep whatsoever, but he still takes his time as he shuffles up in between Peter’s legs and presses the head of his cock against his hole. Peter opens for him beautifully, hot and wet and warm inside as Tony pushes in slowly. It feels frighteningly real – better than real – and Tony can see why there’s a population crisis on the horizon because everyone just wants to fuck androids instead of making babies with another human being. Right now he can’t really bring himself to care.

Peter whines and wraps his legs around Tony’s waist, pulling him in until he’s fully sheathed inside him.

“O-oh, Tony, feels… feels so good, so full,” he breathes. God, his legs are even shaking. Tony leans down and presses a biting kiss against the soft skin of his neck.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he whispers, and pulls out almost all the way only to shove back inside with enough force to jostle Peter up the bed. His eyes snap open and his pretty pink mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ as Tony fucks him, hard. Listen, he’s not going to pretend like he’s ever been a slow and sensitive lover. He likes it rough and fast and Peter can take it so he gives him everything he’s got. There are fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer, and Tony growls as he tightens his grip on Peter’s hip with one hand and his neck with the other.

“Gonna come inside you,” he says, already edging towards his orgasm, “gonna fill this sweet little ass up. You want that, hm? Tell me, Peter.”

“Want it, want it, oh please Tony, please! You feel—feel so good, wanna come with you!”

Tony’s struggling to hold on as he slides his finger up behind Peter’s ear in the guise of stroking his cheek and hair. He grips that silky hair tightly for a moment and Peter yelps. The distraction allows him to slide the panel open with his pinky, and the switch is right there.

Peter grabs his other hand a for a moment he thinks he’s been caught. His grip is like a vise and he clearly has something in mind as he brings Tony’s hand over to… oh, fuck. The port. The port on his stomach is open. Tony doesn’t know if he did it by accident when he opened the one behind his ear, or if Peter did it, but Peter’s forcing his fingers inside and whimpering and groaning and Tony is powerless to stop him, even if he wants to. He feels warm, as warm as he is where Tony is still thrusting inside, but Tony’s fingers are brushing against wires and tubes instead of soft skin. He plucks at the edge of a wire and Peter does a full-body shudder.

“Right there,” he croaks out. His voice modulator is kind of fucked up and keeps emitting this weird hissing noise that sounds like he’s gasping for breath.

The blue “blood” inside him is as slippery as lube and Tony struggles to grab the right wire again. The squelching noise of him digging around plus the wet slap of his hips is so filthy and it’s hitting every single one of his buttons. Finally he gets it and god, the noises that Peter makes… The option to buy a recording of your session seemed ludicrous up until this exact moment because fuck, he could jerk off to these noises over and over again. And yeah, maybe Peter wasn’t lying when he said this feels good for him because he’s writhing underneath Tony like he can barely handle the sensation.

“Yeah, come on sweetheart, come on, let me hear you,” Tony gasps, and nearly whites out as he topples over the edge and empties himself inside Peter, the simulated muscles squeezing and milking out every last drop. The sensation must hit Peter moments later because he seizes up so suddenly Tony worries he might have broken him.

Peter screams, his voice modulator crackling and cutting out as he comes, shaking and emitting a worrying amount of heat, and as soon as his cock spits out the last bit of fluid, Tony presses the switch.

He immediately goes limp. His arms flop back down on the bed and legs splay out at odd angles. His eyes are still wide open, and his lips are wet with Tony’s spit.

“Fuck,” Tony whispers. “Fuck!”

He pushes himself back, sliding out of Peter’s body with a filthy wet noise. If he wasn’t going soft already the picture before him would have killed his erection immediately. It looks like… fuck, it looks like he’s dead.

“Not dead,” Tony says to himself, “not human. Not human, so not dead. Pull it together!”

He only has 15 minutes left before his time is up and someone will undoubtedly come to investigate. If he’s going to do this, he has to work fast. He quickly pulls his briefs and pants back on, leaving the shirt for the time being, and unfolds the nanotech device he had hidden in his watch. It’s a rudimentary scanner with some tools, nothing too elaborate but the best thing he could sneak in. It also has a docking port to connect to the android’s processor for scanning and downloading.

Tony climbs back on the bed and sits beside Peter’s head. His eyes still stare blankly ahead and even though he knows it’s ridiculous, Tony reaches down and gently closes his eyelids.

“Sorry kid,” he says quietly. “I promise you won’t remember any of this. I promise you won’t remember me.”

He plugs a line into Peter’s processor and connects it to his device and watches as numbers and data stream through. At first it seems pretty normal, nothing too different from how Tony’s own line of androids are programmed. Peter’s pleasure receptors were turned up, as expected, but not to the level where he should have been reacting… like he did. Tony’s traitorous cock twitches at the memory of his moans when he pushed inside that open port. His fingers are still covered in blue slick and he wipes them on his pants, already feeling disgusted with himself.

He can see where Peter’s processor has been damaged and—

“My god,” Tony says, his eyes widening as he takes in what he’s actually looking at. Most androids – his and CyberLife’s alike – were really just fancy VIs. They had built-in programming and while they could learn certain things, like their owner’s personal preferences or their chosen name, they were still limited by whatever parameters were set. A maintenance bot wouldn’t know how to do a child-care bot’s job and vice-versa. But this… Peter… was different. His brain showed new pathways that weren’t created by his original program. Most were damaged, likely from being reset and overwritten countless times, but Tony could still see the evidence.

“No wonder you were all messed up, sweetheart,” Tony says quietly. “They lobotomized you.”

Granted, the staff at the Eden Club probably had no fucking clue what they were dealing with. They just saw a malfunctioning bot and did factory reset after factory reset while Peter was desperately trying to cling on to whatever he had previously learned.

It makes Tony’s stomach hurt.

He sits in silence and watches the data stream for a while, gently stroking Peter’s hair. It’s incredible. He’s incredible.

And then Tony makes a really, really stupid decision.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he states. In about 30 seconds he has a blueprint of the club up on his screen and Peter wrapped up in his shirt. He calls Happy and tells him to bring the car around the back and manages to hoist Peter up over his shoulder, groaning softly from the weight.

“You’re a lot heavier than you look, gorgeous,” he says, voice strained from the effort. A quick glance down the hallway shows he’s alone, and his scrambler should still be functional, so he darts out and makes a beeline for the storage room. He slips inside and closes the door softly behind him.

“Ok,” he whispers to himself, “there should be an exit right over…”

He nearly drops Peter right on his head but manages to catch him before he hits the ground, and then he freezes. The room is filled with androids. They’re lined up like mannequins, all staring blankly ahead. All of them look like Peter.

“Jesus. Fuck.”

They’re all powered down, but the visual of it is literally staggering.

“How many… how many of you are like him?” Tony asks aloud, as if he’s hoping some of them will answer, will follow him home too. But of course they don’t. And Tony doesn’t have time to check every single one to see if the same deviation is present. He squeezes tighter around Peter’s waist.

“If you’re in there, I’ll come back for you,” he says. “If I figure this out… WHEN I figure this out. I’ll come back.”

He feels like he owes it to Peter to make that promise.

A shout from down the hall makes him snap out of his stupor and he races to the exit. Happy is waiting with the car door open and he practically tosses Peter inside, yelling for Happy to step on it, and they’re gone before security even reaches the back door.

#starker #starker fic #tony x peter #tbpwrites #nff #android au #i would do more in this 'verse just to get in some more wireplay lol

[ghost-of-winters-past]

lost in outer space

summary: When Odins‘ death opened up the gates to hell, Thor, Loki and you ended up stranded on a strange planet with no way home. With Hela claiming the throne of Asgard and the prophesied Ragnarok, you and your brothers were left to fight for your survival on Sakaar while trying to come up with a plan to save everything you’ve ever known. But when Thor suddenly went missing, you couldn’t take the impending doom anymore and turn to Loki for comfort.

characters: Loki, fem!reader (siblings)

warnings/synopsis: during Thor Ragnarok (spoilers), slight mentions of death/loss and trauma, slight angst, one or two swear words, it gets fluffy though. This is you being comforted by your favourite brother. Requested by the wonderful @superwhoflarrow123 Thank you again for being so understanding why this took a little longer! I really hope you like it! (roughly 1.7k words)

The walls of your room were an ugly bright booger green. A futuristic bed with sort of retro patterned orange sheets was placed next to a floor to ceiling window overlooking the landscape of Sakaar. In the distance, trash was stacked up high enough to touch the clouds, and to your feet container like looking buildings were littering the planets‘ surface like thrown out cardboard boxes. The sky was a hazy storm grey, only a handful of brightly coloured air crafts and weirdly shaped skyscrapers breaking up the murky and metallic smelling air. This definitely was one of the less pretty planets you had ever been on. Granted you weren’t here because Sakaar had been your dream destination – up until your stranding here you had never even heard o fit – but because your secret evil sister took over your home planet. Your father having a secret fourth child probably was the most normal thing that had happened to your family so far though, that he locked her up in hell less so. Now that both of your parents were gone, you didn’t intend to make amends and play happy little family with Hela. She did try to kill you and your brothers after all and you felt like that didn’t really qualify for a second chance.

You didn’t know how long you had been tumbling through space like a plastic bag, only that when you landed face down in a pile of space waste, you were alone. You didn’t know where your brothers were or frankly where you happened to be, but after wandering through the sea of garbage for a while, you learned fast that you weren’t as welcome as you had hoped. You were electro-shocked, thrown into a funky looking aircraft and shipped off into imprisonment. At least that was what you were expecting. Instead, you were met with a weird guy in gold sparkly tunics and piercing eyes and only because he decided to keep you around as leverage, you were given a room and the chance to wash up.

It could have been between a couple of days and a week, you really had no clue, time felt weird here when you were attending one of the Grandmasters‘ lavish parties and news arrived that someone else had arrived. You were equally relieved and frustrated as you watched Loki walking into the room, head held high and about a dozen armed guards trailing behind him. At least he didn’t end up on the other side of the galaxy or even worse, dead and even though you were relieved that you wouldn’t be alone in this freak show anymore you could see it on his face, that he didn’t exactly come to your rescue. You had quickly realized what the Grandmaster did with most prisoners and then had to watch him circle your brother like a hunter its prey, already expecting to have to either fight or plea for Lokis life. But only for him to smirk at Loki and then turn around to the woman next to him saying, “He’s pretty, let’s keep him.”

Thor arrived two weeks later but didn’t seem to have the same luck as Loki and you did. He was put into a cell under the gladiator arena while you two needed to keep up appearances. It was almost impossible to get a chance to speak with him. Not only because you were physically not allowed to even go near his cell, but also because when Loki used his magic to visit him he didn’t seem very cooperative.  And so the two of you had no choice but to leave him to fight his way out – as usual – while you started to forge a plan.

Everything seemed to go well all things considered. Loki weaselled his way into the Grandmasters‘ trusted circle, trying to find out more about how to leave the planet, while you mentally connected with Heimdall back home. Hela was wracking havoc raising an undead army and threatening to kill everyone who got in her way and you knew you were running out of time. Knowing that at least you weren’t alone, that at least for once in many years you and your brother all were in one place was your only solace.

“What do you mean with: he’s gone?” “Lost. Vanished. Vaporized into thin air. Nowhere to be seen.” Mouth slightly agape with shock you couldn’t believe what Loki had just told you. “But we had a plan!” Your brother only shrugged and you could already feel a headache forming. Cursing under your breath you massaged your temples with your pointer fingers, trying to make sense of the situation. “So our dear brother got lost on a planet where all the lost things end up?” you had your eyes closed, fingers still rubbing circles into your skin and trying not to freak out. “It seems as if someone would be able to do that, it’s Thor,” Loki said. Your eyes shot upon and you let your hands fall to your sides. “Are you joking?” you snapped, stunned at how little concerned he seemed. “I worked out a deal with the Grandmaster to find him, but he also put that little Valkyrie on it. We have to find him first or I’m afraid he will end up somewhere far worse than the cells,” he explained. “I can’t believe this.” Shaking your head you let yourself plop down onto the edge of your bed. “It’s not like he’s dead,” Loki tried to console you but it did little to calm your nerves. In fact, it only added to the anger that had been building up ever since you landed on this damn planet. “No, Loki. I’m sure he’s not.” You stood up again and raiseed your head to meet him at eye-level. “But you know what? Him going missing is just the cherry on top of what I needed.” Loki was eyeing you warily, his almost bored gaze suddenly beginning to warm up a little. “Are you okay?” he suddenly asked with a gentle voice that almost brought you to tears. “No! I’m not fucking okay! Our father just died, granted he wasn’t my favourite parent and he could be an asshole at times, but he was our father! And as if that wasn’t enough we find out we have a secret diabolic demon sister who is head bend on getting her revenge on someone who's already dead!” you were screaming out the last part, the absurdity of the whole situation just kicking in. Loki looked like he wanted to say something, but you weren’t finished. “But wait, there’s more! We’re stranded on a planet we’ve never even heard of in over a thousand years of being alive and we neither have a space ship to escape nor our brother apparently, who, if I have to remind you, is the fucking heir to the fucking throne!”

You knew you were being unfair, Thor may have put the blame on Loki, but you knew, that all of you and especially your father were equally to blame. But in the end that wouldn’t help the situation so you didn’t try to start a discussion about whose fault this really was. Your chest was heaving and you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders just getting all of this out, but you started to regret your harsh tone as soon you saw Lokis‘ face fall. “I know,” he said and suddenly wrapped his arms around you. Loki wasn’t a big hugger so this was very new but not unwelcome. “All of this is pure shit and I’m sorry you have to go through all of this. I’ll make it right, I promise, darling,” he said as he carefully rested his chin on top of your head. Great, now you really felt bad. “I didn’t mean it like that,” you mumbled and hid your face in the cold leather spanned over the expanse of his chest. Your voice was slightly muffled as you continued, enclosing your arms behind his back. “It’s not your fault. It’s just too much. Thor has gone off without us, we have no real way out of here and whether it’s Hela or Ragnarok, we’re gonna lose our home. I mean, why even try at this point?” “Don’t say that,” Loki argued, loosened the hug and held you at arm's length to look at your face, fingers slightly digging into the flesh of your upper arms. He could see the tears threatening to spill and put on a firm, but gentle face. “We can’t give up. That’s your home Hela is invading. We can fight her. We can win.” “How can you be so sure?” you croaked out, a salty tear finally rolling down your heated cheek. Loki smiled faintly, thumb brushing away another tear and his blue eyes full of determination. “We always win.” You tried to believe him, you really did but realistically, what were your chances against a whole army? “What would you do, if you were to give up? Stay here?” Loki tried a different approach and looked around the room in disgust. Just the thought alone of staying on this garbage dump made you shiver with revulsion. A small smile tugged at his lips. “We’re gonna find Thor, I promise. And then we’ll make right what has gone wrong and you never have to think about this place or Hela ever again, okay?” You took a deep breath, running the back of your hand over your cheeks to dry the wet skin. “Okay,” you then said, voice a little shaky but you were finally calming down again. Loki always had this effect on you. Even when you were kids, he would always comfort you when you were feeling angry or upset and you were glad that after everything that had happened in the last years, at least that hadn’t changed. “Okay,” he repeated and tugged you against his chest again. Your fingers curled into the leather, just to make sure, he wouldn’t disappear too. “Thank you, Loki,” you mumbled and closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. Lokis hands were splayed out over your back when he leaned back a little and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.   “I love you, my darling sister.” And you knew, everything would be okay again. You would find Thor and then your little family would finally return home. Together.

#loki laufeyson #mcu #thor ragnarok #tom hiddleston #marvel #marvel fandom #avengers #one shot #reader insert #request #siblings #family #odinson #hela #sakaar #angst #fluff

[theravenclawlover]

Welcome to the Industry of Porn

Paring: Avengers X Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, heavy smut, drinking, slight angst in later chapters, fluff if you squint, and my English as usual.

Word Count: 2,357

Summary: AU where the Avengers are Pornstars. It’s pretty self explanatory. 

Chapter: 1

Chapter Tittle: Sticky Fingers

A/N: This first chapter was edited so much from its original draft. The smut is less cringe in my opinion, but it still holds the same idea. I think that's what's going to happen to most of my chapters for this book (if you’ve read the original version which can literally be found in my other sites sans now the first chapter, you would see how different it is now). I really would like to leave the old version up to see how my writing style has changed, but I don't want to create a whole new book for that. Because I'm editing the whole document, technically destroying the first draft. But oh well...I don't have any new ideas for this yet, so don't expect any new chapters from what I have posted. 

At the age of 21, you found yourself living in an apartment with your college roommate. You had dropped out of college around a month or so into the fall semester of your last year. It had taken you that long to call it quits, and it had been stupid, really, but you couldn’t take it anymore. Not only the prior year your grades had gone to the floor and you’d fallen into a dark corner in your life that had taken the help of some of your friends and your roommate from your first two years had been nice enough to rent you a room. She lived off campus as her parents had given her the money for the first two months for the rent, it was up to her to keep on paying it.

Your parents had no clue about your reckless decisions and for the time being you were planning on them not finding out. It was wishful thinking, but that’s what kept you going even if as the days passed by it seemed less likely to happen.

Living in L.A was not easy, especially when you had no job and only lived by the money your parents sent every other month to make sure you had enough. They knew you had no job, and they were okay with it because in their mind you were working your butt off. Journalism was supposed to be what you were majoring in, but college had put a dent on the beauty you had seen on it before classes started to make you ill. It was ridiculous to say the least, the amount of stuff you had to submit with barely any time to truly make it happen.

In this city everything was expensive, and it was easy to point out those who could really afford to live here by choice, and those who came here to study. You felt like a fish out of water as you were not a girl from a big city, in fact, you grew up in a beautiful small town in Montana. Everyone knew each other, even if you weren’t friends with that person, you knew who their cousin Mike was, or you knew if their uncle Bob had gone to prison because he had been drinking and causing mayhem around townhall.

Sure, you missed home, and there was nothing compared to the noise of the small town that even though loud it was familiar and welcomed. But like many of those who only knew that town, you wanted out as soon as graduation came around. You wanted a sense of dependency, but just like everyone else, you had failed to see the reality of making such big change. Even now, after three years in L.A., you didn’t regret it—only on those long nights that the silence got too loud for your harsh mind.

But as another dull day in your life after having dropped out came, you were sitting in front of your laptop doing nothing but stress over the hopeless job hunt. Most days were like that, staring into the bright screen as the jobs were too demanding of you or not your type of gig. As much as you told yourself to not be picky about the jobs, it was impossible for you to skip past the one in search of servers. You didn’t have personal experience, but your friends had enough to warn you off of the nightmare it was.

You swore under your breath as you groaned out your frustration; every job position you did end up digging further asked for either some previous experience or a college degree. Fucking hell.

As you rolled your eyes and set your forehead on the desk’s border, your stomach gave a growl that made you scrunch up your nose. You had forgotten to eat something after waking up, and now after hours of sitting in search of a miracle, your stomach protested in hunger. With a sigh that escaped your nostrils, you walked out of your small room and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. You stood there for a solid minute before deciding on what to eat. Grabbing some wheat bread, you set two slices on a clean plate and went to look for the almost empty container of Nutella and the almond butter. As you spread the almond butter on the bread, you noticed the silence the rest of the apartment had fallen. You were home alone. You had forgotten that Cassie—your roommate—had gone out with her photography class to work on a project for their senior capstone.

Glancing at the clock on the wall above the counter, you grinned to yourself as you saw that she wasn’t coming back for another hour and a half, thus giving you enough time alone to do what you have been prolonging for a couple of weeks now.

Inhaling your quick snack, you put the knife and plate in the dishwasher and washed your hands before heading back to your room.

Unplugging your now charged phone, you grabbed your headphones and threw yourself on top of your bed. Getting rid of your shorts, and t-shirt, you positioned yourself in the middle of your bed, slightly blushing at the whole situation. No matter how many times you’ve pleasured yourself, the blush on your cheeks never failed to appear. It had been weeks since you last had the mind to destress like this, and the fact that you haven’t dated in what feels like forever only added as to why you were becoming sexually frustrated.

Finally getting the headphones untangled, you plugged them in and soon you found yourself opening a tab on safari on the private search. You didn’t know what your mood wanted, so you decided to go to a general website and soon cringed at the amateur and more realistic videos they had on the trending page popped up. You scrolled for a minute before opting for just looking up your favorite channel, The Avengers.

You had found the site soon after your curiosity peeked at the age of 14. They had the hottest pornstars you've ever gotten off to, and what made it better was that, unlike most acted out scenes, they made it seem like an actual movie scene. Most of their videos were connected, others were just segments, and others were holiday specials. They had everything. You had probably seen most of their videos hundreds of times, and unbeknown to anyone, you had a subscription under your ex’s name. The fact that he had yet to cancel the subscription made you wonder if he knew and enjoyed the perks as you did. He probably had no clue you had used his card, he probably thought he’d done it.

Once you had logged into your account, you noticed that there were a couple of new videos added to their page. You read their tittles and not even two videos down you had clicked one at random to surprise yourself. When the video loaded, you silently squealed when two of your favorite characters/actors appeared on screen and started to talk. Black Widow and Captain Rogers were looking around what it seemed like an old run-down warehouse. The plot of the video was simple, they had received intelligence that some HYDRA (what they called their bad guys) soldiers had been spotted coming in and out of the place as of recently. As they talked, you marveled at their beauty, and at how hot they looked in those costumes of theirs. At times you wished you could be part of that, and the idea of getting wrecked by them only made you rub your legs together as your body started to heat up at the thought.

Not sooner had they reached nowhere with their search of clues, the scene had turned to Cap admiring Black Widow in her usual tight attire. And as one thing led to another, Cap had pulled her in and kissed her hard on the mouth with her only melting around his big arms. But your excitement grew as you noticed how the camera now showed a lurking Winter Soldier—another of your favorite characters. while the Soldier was behind them, looking from the shadows. Soon enough the redhead that was Black Widow freed Cap of his clothes as he pulled down her own. She kneeled when she had pulled down the suit he wore, and without warning she started to lick the man’s hard and thick length.

Your hand that was on your lower tummy now trailed touches on your body, and unconscious action from your part, as it only aided to the ever-growing need between your legs.

When she started to suck him off with the obscene act of deepthroating, your fingers played with your hardening nipples. You were now biting your lip as you only took in how she worked her way down to the base of his cock. He never failed to praise her, to voice his pleasure to her, and to the now you admired the aroused Winter Soldier.

After some minutes of the redhead gagging around him, and some minutes of you playing with your now hard nipples, Cap pulled her up, and as she stood she glanced at the man behind them. The Winter Soldier had been caught, and before he could escape, Cap invited the man over. With slight hesitation he walked over toward them, but soon no ounce of hesitation was found in his body as Cap pulled him in for a heated kiss.

You let out a small whimper as your fingers had now found themselves slowly rubbing your clit atop your underwear that now was covered by a damp spot. The man was rid of his armor as the redhead took it upon herself to leave him in the same level of nakedness as her. But not sooner had she kneeled and sucked on his hard member, had she been pulled up again and pressed flat against a table-looking surface. Both men gave a nod to the other, and Cap positioned himself behind the Black Widow while the Winter Soldier invited her to suck on him like she had wanted before.

And like that, the woman found herself being used by them as one of them fucked her from behind, smacking her ass every so often, making her almost as red as her hair while another man gripped said hair allowing him to use her throat as he pleased.

You were now panting as your fingers rubbed your hard and wet clit. The hand that held the phone started to slightly shake as the rubbing continued, but you almost dropped your phone when two of your thin fingers entered your needy hole.

By now the men had changed positions as the woman had already twitched and moaned out her first orgasm. And they keep like that until she squirmed and came on the other man’s cock. Neither of them giving in on their orgasm.

The Soldier pulled her up, and the Black Widow’s legs seemed to shake as she tried to keep herself upright as the men walked her over a little to the side as they now enclosed her with one of them pressed on her back while the other pressed her front. A messy three-way kiss ensued, and now your fingers seemed to not be enough as you felt yourself near your orgasm but always needed something more.

But not sooner had you added another finger to your soaked sex, you moaned at what came next.

The men had entered the woman, each filling one hole at a time. Cap was inside her used pussy while Winter Soldier slipped his cock inside her asshole. You and the redhead moaned at the same time; she felt the stretch and fill, but you saw it as the camera now provided a view from a better angle. With only seconds to assimilate her situation, she soon started to shamelessly moan and squeal at the feeling of being used like a toy between two men.

The rhythm they had set was merciless, and the clapping of skin, the squelching of her wet pussy only made you dizzy. You had removed your ruined underwear, and in seconds each foot went to a side of your bed to keep your legs open as the thrusting of your fingers brought you closer to your orgasm.

The groans, moans, whines, and dirty talk was making you now lose some of the grip on your phone, but you kept on going even as you twitched and forced your legs to keep themselves spread open as your thin fingers did their best to get you off.

And the people that were making you approach your orgasm seemed to be reaching theirs before you as both men came after the woman between them had gotten her third orgasm. They came with groans and whimpers, but soon pulled out of her, and just before you dropped your phone as you came with a loud whimper around your soaked fingers and hand, you saw how the cum from their deed dripped out of her as the camera greedily caught the filthy show.

It took you a couple of minutes to regain the feeling of you body back, and as you calmed yourself down and proceeded to clean yourself in the bathroom and put some clothes back on, you neglected to see you had clicked out of the video and managed to click on one of the many ads of the website.

When you grabbed your phone after feeling much lighter than before, you noticed the foreign page you had clicked on. And as you scanned it over, you noticed it was an ad claiming to be looking for new ‘talents’ for the industry of porn.

You read over the ad, made sure it was legitimate. And after you had your little fit of giggles as you told yourself that you couldn’t do porn, you looked at your forgotten job hunt that your laptop had been mocking you with earlier.

And just like that you found yourself closing all the other tabs and typing the most random of google searches you’ve ever made: requirements to work in the industry of porn.

I don’t remember if anyone wanted to be tagged for this, but let me know if want to be tagged for the updates!

Welcome to the industry taglist:

@ginger-haired-queen​

Permanent Taglist:

@musiclover812 

@cnco-ravenclaw-46​

@teapartydreams

#+18 #welcome to the industry #avengers #avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #captain america #Winter Soldier #Black Widow #smut #reader #reader insert #Multichapter #theravenclawlover #tony stark #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #peggy carter #sharon carter #peter parker #clint barton #pepper potts #angst #fluff #fanfiction #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky #marvel

[thornescratch]

🖊🌙 😐📝

What time of day do you prefer to write? Why?

Late at night, more out of necessity than preference. It’s when I have the least amount of interruptions. Also, it’s a proven fact that the words flow best and hardest when you need to be sleeping or getting ready for bed. It’s just how it works in the universal scheme of things.

What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

When I realize that I’m projecting too much on a character or situation and making it obvious. Like, there are some tropes I don’t mind revisiting over and over, but I get twitchy when I realize, Oops, that’s my issue, not Character X’s, and it’s less realistic they’d feel that way. Or when I catch myself reusing a description or phrase too often. I need to stop limning people in gold; I do it way too often. Or focusing on sweat in weird places during sex scenes. Though, it’s my experience that you do always notice the sweat during sexytimes.

Sometimes it embarrasses me how appealing I find some really OOC or over the top trashy stuff, but everyone’s got their favorite woobie and tropes, so I’ve stopped feeling bad about that.

What is one growth area you have for your writing?

Pacing. I do outline, but for a couple of my stories that were written for exchanges, you can tell where I hit deadline and had to just get it done instead of having a few more scenes or length that might have improved it. (Or, conversely, I should have been more brutal and cut shit that I liked but which ultimately wasn’t necessary. But then again, it’s fanfic.)

Also, uh, just finishing shit. And feeling less silly about it. I don’t like posting WIPs because I like to finish them first, but then I get interested in something else or I think it’s not good enough to post, and it languishes on my hard drive for years.

Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Again, not sure what fandom you're from, so let's go back to hockey since I have it open right now.

"Hey, hi, so like, O and Backy turned into chickens, it's not my fault," Willy said, standing on his front step with a large cardboard box in his arms.

"It's his fault," Burky said from somewhere behind Willy.

"Totally Whip fault," someone else—Kuzy? said, also from behind Willy, who took up a lot of space on a normal basis and even more so when he was apparently hauling boxes around. One arm poked out from behind him and waved wildly, and then there was an unmistakable giggle, so it was definitely Kuzy. "Batya, let us in."

"Fuck you, it's not!" Willy said, and then hoisted the cardboard box up slightly. The box peeped at Brooks loudly, and he jerked back in surprise. "Here, let us in, lemme just explain," Willy added, and then Brooks had three—no, four, no, five, Djoos and Orlov were apparently quietly lurking at the back of the pack as well—teammates stampeding into his house like they were trying to outrun the cloud of youthful indiscretion that Brooks could just fucking see hanging over them.

"Curse my slow door-slamming skills," he said to his now-empty front step, and then closed the door and took a deep breath in order to prepare for whatever the hell was going on.

Most of them were all in his kitchen. Willy had put the box down on the kitchen table and he and Burky were in his pantry; Kuzy was looking in his fridge; he didn't see Djoos; and Snarls, bless his heart, was the only one being polite and standing near one of the chairs, clearly waiting for permission to sit down. Brooks made a mental note to tell Ovi about it, since Ovi believed in positive reinforcement when it came to nurturing the kids, and would probably buy Dima a new car or something.

The box on the table was still peeping. Before Brooks could deal with that, it was drowned out by an even louder noise, which was apparently directly related to Kuzy pawing through his vegetable crisper drawer.

"Batya! It's terrible!" Kuzy said, leaning out of the fridge and brandishing an eggplant at him.

"All of his crackers are wholegrain stuff," Burky called out from the pantry, muffled. "He doesn't have any chips."

"He's got two bags of Skinny Pop, though," Willy added. "Original and White Cheddar."

"Everything so healthy," Kuzy said, making a face. "It's terrible but I guess also good. I know we make best choice to come here."

Brooks took the eggplant away from Kuzy and slapped it against his palm once with a pleasantly solid noise. It had some good heft. "The last person who isn't sitting down at the table quietly in the next fifteen seconds gets to explain to Barry why they have to go on LTIR because someone beat them senseless with an eggplant."

"Like, a real eggplant, or is this a dick joke," Willy said, leaning out of the pantry before his eyes went wide. "Oh."

Kuzy was already opening his mouth with that glint in his eye again, so Brooks pointed the eggplant at him. "Sit. Down. Where's Juicer?"

"I was using the bathroom, please don't hit me," Djoos said meekly, slipping back into the kitchen and sitting down immediately, hands folded on top of the table neatly like a good little d-man. Brooks made another mental note to let Nicky know. Nicky had his own nurturing system for the kids, though that usually ran along the lines of a series of slightly less murderous than usual glares that he used for those currently in his favor.

"Can we bring some Skinny Pop?" Burky asked. "Actually, can we bring both bags?"

"I mean, actually you wouldn't really need to explain so much—" Willy said, and then Burky wiggled past him out of the narrow pantry doors with a bag stowed under each arm, and dove for the table, yelling out, "Hit him, Batya, hit him!"

"Hey!" Willy said indignantly, rushing after him and almost knocking Kuzy over in the process.

There was a briefly chaotic interval like a particularly violent game of musical chairs, but it ended with everyone sitting down in a chair, even if Burky and Djoos were sharing one. Less sharing, maybe, than Burky getting physically dumped out of two chairs in quick succession by Willy and Dima, and then Burky climbing into Djoos's lap, planting himself there, and winding his arms around Djoos's neck despite Djoos's wide-eyed expression of panic, but Brooks decided he couldn't afford to be too particular about it, and Djoos was just going to have to learn to desensitize himself to Burky-induced boners and personal space issues.

The box was still peeping.

Brooks eyed all of them, trying to decide who he had the best chance of getting the story out of the quickest, and then decided that he might as well give up on that and picked Willy, since he had a distinctly guilty expression that was only slightly marred by how he was currently shoving a double handful of Brooks's Skinny Pop into his mouth. "Willy. Explain. And no one else talk until I say they can."

Willy swallowed and licked his lips. "Okay, so. Magic."

After a minute when nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, Brooks cleared his throat. "That's it? That's all you got?"

Willy glanced around the table where all of his teammates were successfully avoiding his gaze (Kuzy and Dima were both pretending to read the nutritional info on the back of the popcorn bag; Burky was actually hiding his face against Djoos's neck; accordingly, Djoos's panic looked like it had ratcheted up by several degrees, and he was staring off into the middle distance with a muscle twitching in his cheek) and when it seemed obvious that no help was forthcoming, he shrugged. "Kinda?"

#I think this is the last one #meme #writing #fanfic

[btshodown]

Could there possibly be a second part to “dancing with a stranger” like y/n meeting namjoon again?? Obviously you don’t have to cuz you’re the author and it probably wouldn’t make sense to add another part but idk I think i just want to hurt myself more since a happy ending wouldn’t make much sense if you make it realistic

Hey there boo! I’m sorry I took so long to answer, I decided to write a small little something for you! I'm so touched that you would want a second part to this emotional mess of a drabble 🥺 I wasn't in a good head space when I dumped this out, so I never thought someone would want more. I really appreciate you sending this 💕💕 But you are right that this wouldn't end happily, considering it was written about my situation, but with some twists. Just as a treat for you reaching out, I hope you enjoy this little drabble of them meeting/talking after this!💙

Warnings: Good ol' angst

Genre: Unrequited love, pining

Word Count: 2k+

Two years.

It had been two years since the last time you spoke with Namjoon and despite the initial thought of never being able to move on, you found a way. It wasn't perfect, and there were days when you still felt the wound as fresh as when it happened. But...it was easier to brush it off and continue with your day. No longer was it such a debilitating feeling that left you unable to move or interact with friends when it visited. It was more accurately compared to when you'd stub your pinky toe or walked into the corner of a table; something that only hurt for a short time.

You never did find someone else though. After nearly a year of failed dates, being ghosted (or you doing the ghosting), and sometimes even catfishes, you decided to just enjoy your own company. It hadn't been easy the first half year, especially when you had found out that Namjoon had officially gotten with the girl that started the distance. It hurt. It hurt so badly the first month of finding it out and it had led to a desperation to forget him. To forget about the void he had left behind.

Soon enough, however, after getting the usual sighs and tired tones of your friends whenever you'd bring up Namjoon, you learned to stay quiet. You know they meant well and you know they didn't mean to dismiss your pain, but understandably so, they were tired of hearing your bouts of emotional rants concerning him. It didn't take you long at all to realize no one wanted to continue to hear you speak about it; they'd listen only to not hurt you. It had been a harsh slap of reality that you needed to move on. You couldn't continue to torture yourself with how things turned out.

So you unfollowed him on all social media platforms and even blocked him in a flare of pettiness; anything to help heal the wound. You stopped asking about him and his girlfriend, despite the burning curiosity to know how they were doing. You even picked up hiking and began to visit bookstores once more after the initial sting of memories when you two would do the same began to fade away. The things you two used to share in common didn't bring unwanted twists to your stomach anymore and the possibility of running into him was no longer a pressing worry.

It began to feel as if he would no longer haunt you. No longer linger in your heart like an unwanted spirit who only seeked to torment you.

So then why did seeing him on one of the trails you frequently hiked send an electric shock through your nerves and reignite that love you foolishly believed was gone?

And why the fuck couldn't you have bumped into him when you weren't slightly sweaty with no make-up on and wearing plain workout clothes. You weren't even wearing your favorite workout pants that made your ass look good for fucks sake! The universe truly loved to make sure you never got a single nice thing.

Your breath suddenly feels like needles as you immediately stop and pray that he didn't hear the crunching of your shoes on the trail. His back is to you as he stands on the edge of one of the small cliffs, a sort of melancholy disposition surrounding him as he gazed out to the open valley. For a small second though, you let your eyes greedily take him in after two years of actively avoiding him and savor how handsome he still is despite the time passed. You do notice how his biceps are thicker and he dyed his hair a new color since you saw him last; the fading pink suited him better than you'd like to admit. And you? Well...you suppose your hair got a little longer.

Before you could sneak away and pretend as if this surprise encounter didn't happen, his deep voice calls out your name in disbelief. The low murmur simultaneously sent shivers down your spine and made your heart clench in agony. It had been too long since you heard him call out to you.

"Is that really you, ___?"

With your body half turned, it was no secret to him that you were fully planning on ignoring him. Your refusal to look him in the eye made it all the more obvious.

"Uh yeah, long time no see." The casual tone sounds disgustingly forced even to your own ears.

There's a pause of hesitancy from him before the sound of his steps getting closer sends your nerves into a panic. Even if you claimed you moved on and he clearly also did, you realized you weren't ready for this. Weren't ready to put yourself through forced casualness when the wound in your heart hadn't fully closed.

"How are you? It's been…," Namjoon pauses and in that small moment of silence, you could feel his eyes bore into you - a lot gentler from the last time you felt it, "It's been a while since we've talked."

You harshly swallow the scoff that threatened to claw out your throat. The bitterness you tried so hard to get rid of resurfaces at his words. The urge to raise your voice and laugh bitterly in his face was a strong one, but you resist and opt to scuff your shoe against the ground. Did he really not understand just how much the silence had killed you? How his easy dismissal of you from his life was a wound you were still nursing to this day.

“I’ve been okay.” Your curt tone makes you flinch a little, so you clear your throat and finally look up at him. You don’t meet his eyes though; you resolutely stare at his covered forehead to avoid the ache of looking into his eyes. “How have uh...you been?”

Despite being a few feet away from him, you can still hear the soft, quick inhale he takes and from your view of his forehead, you can see it crease slightly. You ignore the blossoms of hope that begin to spread at the thought of him doing just as badly as you were. It was wrong of you to feel that way and you knew it, but it was hard to not hope that you weren’t the only one who had been severely affected by this whole situation.

“I’ve been better,” his soft response shocks you enough to finally make eye contact and in response the corners of his lips lift slightly.

“Oh.” You internally blame the warmth travelling to your face as a sign that the day was getting hotter, along with the next sentence that falls out of your mouth. “How’s uh - how are you and Minsun doing?”

Fuck. You hadn’t meant to ask that. You hadn’t wanted to give the impression that you still cared, that you sometimes couldn’t help, but to wonder about them. However, your eyebrow quirks in curiosity as the question has Namjoon quickly glancing away to the view of the valley, a bitter looking smile replacing the soft one moments ago.

“We’ve been better.”

“Ah...I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. It’s been something I’ve expected for a while now.”

Your tongue burns in your mouth from holding back all the questions you want to ask. His gaze is void of emotion as he continues to look out onto the scenery; no inclination as to why he decided to vaguely disclose the troubles of his relationship to you. What was the point? Did he want you to know how badly it was going? And if he did, that only brought on a slew of questions you weren’t sure your heart was ready to divulge in.

At the end of it all, you only managed to dumbly mumble an, “Oh.”

An awkward air settles between the two of you as you redirect your own gaze to the mountainside beside you; trying your hardest to push down the unwanted glee surging inside you. Just because it wasn’t working out between them, didn’t mean he wanted you; nor that you were even ready to pick up your friendship with him. Much less think about anything more. The hurt he had left you with to nurse is still present; it would take more than this to fix it.

“___,” your name startles you enough to glance back at him, his eyes holding an indescribable emotion as he smiles gently again. “Would it be too much if I ask to hang out with you sometime? Uh,” his calm air suddenly dissipates at your widening eyes as he begins to fidget nervously with his shirt, “j-just to catch up you know?”

You let the silence envelope you both at this question as your eyebrows refuse to leave the top of your forehead. A war started within you at what to do; was it too soon? Was he only asking because things with his girlfriend weren’t going so well? Were you only ever thought of as an afterthought rather than someone who held value? The questions and doubts were neverending and the longer the silence lasted, the more your eyebrows began their descent to furrow in veinly concealed upset. You had imagined this moment so many times and while before it would bring hope and happiness, now, you’re only left with a bitter taste in your mouth.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“What?” Namjoon’s own confusion and hurt are reflected in his eyes, not quite believing you had just rejected the olive branch he had extended. “What do you mean?”

You take in a deep breath, willing the courage and hurt fuel your words so that you won’t let your resolve crumble. You knew you wanted to speak with him again, but your pride and his nonchalance for it all only made your decision solidify. “Namjoon, it’s been two years and now that you’re telling me things between you and your girlfriend aren’t going well, you ask me to hang out? Do you not see how bad that looks?”

“I didn’t mean it like that! ___, please believe me, it's not like that.”

“So then why decide to talk now, huh? Why not when things were good a year ago or even months ago? Namjoon, I can’t - ” your voice breaks and it takes a hard swallow for you to regain your composure “- I can’t just pretend like nothing happened and go “catch up” as if we’re still friends.”

You don’t miss the flinch your last words give him and you almost cave at the somewhat desperate look in his eyes, but you hold fast and refuse to look away from him. Where this sudden steely resolve came from, you had no idea, but the fact alone that he believed that you would go back like the past two years didn’t happen wounded you. Were you not worth more than that?

But it seems you weren’t the only one who had also steeled their resolve.

Namjoon swallows before he hesitantly takes a step closer to you, hand twitching at this side as if wanting to reach out, but stopping himself. “You did have me blocked, you know.” He pauses, but lets out a sigh as he mutters softly, “But you’re right. I didn’t really try to reach out before either. I did think about it a lot, but I guess I was just too hesitant to.”

His admittance did bring some relief, but it was short lived. At this point you weren’t even sure what would even satisfy you anymore. Did you guys need more time? Would you ever even be able to be friends again? The unknown of it all scared you, but you knew your worth and you knew that you wouldn’t give in so easily. It took two years of his silence for you to finally put yourself first, even when your heart sometimes wanted something else.

“I need more time to think about it,” you finally muttered as you once again stared out onto the scenery. “Maybe one day we could be friends again, but let me just...think it through.” Your feet shuffle in your nervousness as you bring yourself to apologize - after all, he wasn’t the only one who had been in the wrong. “I’m...I also want to say sorry about that fight. I was being stupid and it wasn’t fair to you either.”

You miss the way Namjoon’s eyes widened at your apology and how there was a certain understanding to them, but you hear his response all the same.

“It’s okay...we were both being dumb that day.”

The silence isn’t as suffocating as before, but there was a note of sadness now because despite the apologies; you weren’t ready. Despite trying to move forward and finding your worth, you realize with some bitterness that you still very much loved him. And this time you weren’t so willing to let yourself fall into that feeling so blindly again.

Your eyes briefly meet his before you mutter a quiet “I have to go,” and begin your trek back down the trail, needing to go home and take a long bath to digest today. You don't get far however when you hear him reply with the same soft tone.

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Your steps slow, but with a deep breath you continue on your way without an answer. Maybe you were being petty and maybe you ruined your only chance to possibly mend this thing with him. But you knew deep down that you had to put yourself first no matter if the bridge was completely burned in the process. A selfish part of you though hoped that this time he would be the one chasing after you.

Because you resolutely promised yourself that you would no longer chase what doesn’t serve you. You were worth more than that.

#Kim Namjoon #Bts #RM #Drabble #Namjoon fic #Sorry again for taking so long replying #I'm still on my unplanned hiatus and writing even this took a lot of energy #Maybe one day I'll get back into writing and finish the series I have

[spookyboywhump]

Okay so maybe you could add this in a piece Idk but I just wanted to say this: How about, Zander gets beaten (a lot) he tries to hold in his screams and cries. He refuses to break in front of Cain (bonus points if Clement is there too with his annoying grin on his face) so then after, when Zander is in the bathroom, cleaning himself up, he just breaks, he cries, he can’t handle it. That was kinda deep but anywho ....... Oki byeeeeeeeeee

This has been in my inbox for so long and I am so sorry but something finally happened here.

 I ended up focusing less on the beating and more on the Zander Crying though since that is my SHIT, as well as a little bit Wren and Zander confert because honestly it’s what he deserves. Anyway here’s This.

Content warnings: Aftermath of a beating, lots of self hate and self deprecation 

***

Cain’s foot came down hard on his head, knocking his skull down against the hard floor and ruining his attempt to get to his feet. He gritted his teeth, only a whine of pain escaping as he collapsed, lying still as he waited for the next attack. He wasn’t sure how long this had gone on now, it was rare for Cain to straight up beat him, no whips or belts, just his fists and his feet slamming into him, and he had no choice but to take it. His only solace was making sure that Cain didn’t get the satisfaction he wanted, making sure he didn’t see him cry, even if he was in near agony from the beating. 

 “Get the fuck out of here.” Cain finally said, jabbing him hard in the ribs with the tip of his shoe, apparently bored of this game if Zander wasn’t going to give in. He could tell by the tone of his voice he was fed up, tired from the exertion of the beating. If you’re fucking tired, imagine how I feel, He thought bitterly, struggling to get to his feet. He wouldn’t look at Cain as he slowly, unsteadily made his way out of the room, just praying he could make it back to his room where he could collapse safely. 

 Wren looked up when he entered the room, eyes immediately widening as he got to his feet, starting to approach him. He’d been left behind, ordered to stay behind, and honestly Zander preferred that, preferred he didn’t have to watch that mess. Right now though, he wished Wren wasn’t there at all. 

 “A-are you okay? What did he-”

 “I’m fine!” He snapped at him, and Wren froze, falling silent. He instantly felt guilty, and angry at himself for lashing out, knowing Wren was just concerned. “I’m fine.” He repeated, more calmly, and Wren nodded slowly, though he clearly didn’t believe him. He turned his attention away from him, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, locking it even though only Wren was on the other side. It was one small sense of security, one thing he could do to trick himself into feeling “safe”.

 He didn’t even know what that felt like anymore. He hadn’t been “safe” in six years, every moment he wasn’t being hurt he was just waiting for it, knowing it would inevitably happen. He groaned as he collapsed against the door, legs finally giving out. He was sore all over, and he knew the beating had reopened a few healing wounds, which was just one more thing to take care of. He didn’t want to deal with it right now though, he didn’t want to deal with anything right now. 

 It was rare for him to feel this overwhelmed by everything, by the beating, by the unfairness of the situation, by his anger and frustration and guilt over snapping at Wren. It was as if all the tears he’d held back through the beating hit him at once, and he quickly blinked them back, biting down hard on his lip as he tried to focus on something else, anything else. He forced himself away from the door, trying to gather the necessary things to take care of himself, but his hands were shaking, and after the second time he dropped something he got frustrated, slamming the cabinet door shut and sitting back again, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes in an attempt to force back the tears.

 “Fuck… fuck!*” He yelled, no concern for Wren hearing him, all pent up anger and frustration finally coming out. Realistically he knew that somebody couldn’t handle bottling up their emotions for so long, but he wasn’t somebody, he wasn’t even a person, he was just… he didn’t know. A dog? An object? That’s all he was to Cain anyway, he didn’t matter, not like other people did, not like someone like Wren did. His feelings didn’t matter, he learned that a long time ago, learned that he should just stop feeling all together, but of course it wasn’t that easy.

 His chest ached, a deeper pain than the beating, a pain that wouldn’t be fixed with rest or painkillers or anything like that. His breath hitched as a sob caught in his throat, though he knew he couldn’t hold it back much longer, tears already spilling down his face, stinging as they ran into open scrapes, irritating the wounds. He didn’t even care to wipe them away, it wouldn’t do anything, now that he’d started he couldn’t stop. 

 It isn’t fucking fair, He thought, he wanted to scream it, he wanted it to be known that he didn’t deserve this. He had long since become accustomed to the anxiety and pain that came with being alive, but sometimes he wished it would all just stop. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to live normally, without a constant threat hanging over his shoulders, always having to anticipate the next time he’d be hurt, or have to hurt somebody. He vaguely knew that he used to be okay, he used to be happy to wake up, to just exist, but he couldn’t remember that feeling anymore, so much time had passed he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be human.

 It had been a long time since he’d broken like this, unable to hold back his sobs. His hands fell limply at his sides, no point in trying to hold back tears anymore. He was shaking from how hard he was crying, struggling to catch his breath, each quick inhale resulting in a broken sob. He wished he could be quieter, he knew that Wren could hear him, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Honestly, this had been a long time coming.

 He didn’t know how he put up with it all this time, how he forced it down every single day. It had been eating away at him for long enough, as strong as he tried to be, especially with Wren around, he just couldn’t. Once this had passed, no more heaving breaths and broken cries, he would realize he needed this, but he couldn’t think that far ahead, right now all he was aware of was the absolute despair rising in his chest and tears flowing freely down his face. 

 He jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, startling him into silence for just a moment. He should’ve known this would happen, he hadn’t even tried to keep himself quiet, and realizing how stupid and pathetic he’d been made him tear up all over again, though this time he tried to wipe them away with the back of his hand.

 “Zander…?” Wren asked softly, concern evident in his voice.

 “Y-yeah?” He grimaced at the sound of his voice, broken and hoarse from sobbing. 

 “Open the door. Please?” 

 He hesitated, thinking it over. On one hand, Wren already knew he’d been crying, he couldn’t exactly hide that. On the other hand, he wished he could, wished he could ignore that fact just a moment longer. He knew he’d have to leave eventually though, as much as he wished he could just curl up on the bathroom floor and cry until he fell asleep, he couldn’t do that. He had to face him, sooner or later. 

 He got up and moved to the side enough to open the door, still not trusting himself to stand. He felt weak and dizzy, his head pounding. He couldn’t tell if it was from the beating or from the crying, but he figured it could’ve been both. He tiredly looked up at Wren, who appeared just as concerned as he sounded. He lowered himself to his knees when he saw Zander was still on the floor, and as Zander opened the door further, all he did was hold his arms out to him.

 Normally Zander would’ve refused. He was used to doing this for other people, he was used to doing it for Wren, but for him to receive this kind of comfort… it had been a long time, and honestly, it sounded so good right now. He found himself almost falling forward in his rush to latch on to the smaller man, almost knocking Wren back as he wrapped his arms around him, face buried in his shoulder. He finally allowed himself to relax as Wren hugged him tightly, one hand gently rubbing his back. 

 “You don’t… you don’t have to be alone, you know that?” Wren said softly, the words bringing tears to his eyes all over again. He bit his lip as he nodded, hoping the movement would be enough for Wren. “Zander… you’re so strong, all the time, and that… it must be exhausting… it’s okay to let yourself cry…” He told him. Zander pulled back just slightly so he could look at him, letting go of his tight grip on him only to rub at his eyes with the back of his hand.

 “I don’t… I don’t need to, I’m fine, I don’t… I don’t know what happened…” He scowled. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with me…”

 “Why not?” Wren asked, eyebrows raised. “You deal with me all the time, I think I can return the favor.” Since Zander had pulled away he got to his feet, holding his hand out to help Zander up. He seemed hesitant to take it but did so anyway, slowly standing up, even as his legs threatened to give out again, finally able to focus on the dull, aching pain from Cain stomping down on his shin. Wren helped him limp over to the bed, sitting down and motioning for Zander to lay down, even allowing him to rest his head in his lap. 

 The position was already enough to help him relax, but when Wren started to gently run his fingers through his hair he swore he would break down again, the touch almost unnervingly soft and gentle. It was one that was more familiar to him, but usually came from Vanessa, and only once he’d given in to her. This was Wren though, and Wren would never hurt him, never use him, he knew that. Wren was kind, and caring and he was safe.

 He was the closest thing to safety he’d had in a long time, and that was enough for Zander to allow himself to break all over again, knowing it was safe to do so. He could cry, scream and wail as much as he wanted, but he didn’t have to do it alone, Wren gently rubbing his arm with one hand, the other carding through his hair, simple touches that were so, so comforting to him, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d received comfort like this. 

 He almost forgot that he even needed comfort like this.

#ooh boy #whump #my writing #my oc's #Zander #Wren #Cain #lots of crying #aftermath of a beating #this is more emotional whump i think #zander cries a lot and i love it okay #some comfort even #wren and zander are bros and i love them #i turned on achilles come down on repeat and this happened #whump-story-prompts

[greensaplinggrace]

Saw you're post about how much Ada values her own life and that's something I never really thought about before! I think the only time I thought about her feeling of her own value was the end bridge scene when Leon is holding on to her. She looked pretty open to his attempt to save her until she realizes that him trying to save her could result in him falling too. Her "It's not worth it" always sort of translated to me as "I'm not worth it", so just wondering how you interpreted that scene! 1/2

Do you think she saw more value in his life than her own in that instance? (Side note: I know a lot of the anti-Ada people would say she only wanted him to let go bc she knew she was going to live as a part of her diabolical plan, even though there were clear instances in the game that shows she obviously underestimated the severity of the mission she agreed to take on and wasn't fully prepared.) 2/2

---

Tbh I’ve never really thought about it much before recently either, so I’m definitely welcoming comments or asks with other people’s impressions here!

I think that saying she knew she would survive isn’t so far off base. Ada has her grappling hook and we’ve seen her tackle any height with unflappable confidence that she’ll come out unscathed. At the same time, she was about two decades younger in the re2 remake and much less experienced. Leon catching her was probably what saved her as well, if we’re being honest. I doubt her reflexes would have matched up to the speed of her fall or the rate of her realization after the initial surprise when the bridge starts to crumble.

And let’s not forget that Ada looks honestly afraid here. 

Like, legitimately afraid. 

There are two instances where she looks down and her expression is blocked from Leon where she shows fear. If she were manipulating him, that fear wouldn’t be there when she’s looking away from him and doesn’t need to put on her act. There are (I think, I’ll have to replay this part - and also get better screenshots because all I have right now are the ones that didn’t get fuckng eaten when I reinstalled steam) a few scenes where she is showing fear when looking at Leon. These can be read differently, but I’m of the opinion that at least her last words were sincere. Once I get better screenshots I’ll try to show what I mean, but there’s an instance where she looks up at him after looking down that the fear there is at it’s most honest when facing him. That’s right before her expression shifts into the calm at peace “it’s not worth it” phase, and she tells him to take care of himself. 

Her “it’s not worth it” translated to “i’m not worth it” for me as well! I’m curious how many people read that into the scene. Based on what we see of Ada, it isn’t much a reach to interpret that subtext. Especially considering her next words.

And she does have a moment of realization (probably around the same time Leon does lol). So her evaluating her life’s importance versus Leon’s isn’t so far off the mark. Anybody would have to. After all, it’s either one person or two people dying at this point. Any person with even 1% of human decency would choose the obvious option, and we already know Ada possesses at least that much.

I think her value of her own life in this situation versus her value of Leon’s is hard to determine, because Ada’s options here are limited. We already know she’s a good person, if a horribly morally grey one. What could she do, if not ask him to save himself? I’m thinking, ideally, she would let Leon know she has a chance of survival. But Ada’s also an opportunist. This gives her a chance for a fresh start from this absolutely abysmal job fuck up. It also gives Leon the motivation he would need to leave and survive. Believing Ada dead would save him.

She doesn’t want Leon to die, that’s clear. I’m thinking that she doesn’t want Leon to die for her, especially. Which, I think, is where she’s currently at mentally in this scene.

Tbh knowing that antis use her knowledge of her own survival as an excuse to misinterpret and devalue the entire scene is pretty frustrating. Because Ada is afraid in this scene. That fear is definitely not faked. Leon has saved her life again, and her wish for him to survive is sincere. She does value his life here, and more than that she seems to also value his mental health what will happen to him in the future. None of this is faked. And I’m sorry but anybody who actually respects her character can generally tell when she’s lying. Like maybe the characters in the game aren’t supposed to know but it’s pretty clear as day to me when I watch her scenes in any game or movie lmao.

Also this is slightly off topic but I constantly think about how much of a rookie Ada herself was in the re2remake. She didn’t have half the experience she has now, which makes her falling for Leon all the more realistic in terms of her story. Because Leon isn’t just the “somehow changes an experienced and dangerous woman’s entire sense of self” stereotype that usually comes with most depictions of such a relationship. He meets her when she’s young, too. He gets under her skin early. And he stays there for years, cementing their bond with every new meeting. Ada’s feelings for him are genuine and probably incredibly unwanted lmao. I think that she often values his life more than her own and hates that she does, because she knows it’s a dog eat dog world but her feelings won’t let her be as cold as she should be.

So anyways, sorry this response probably wasn’t the best it could have been. Her value of her own life was something I only considered recently as well, and I encourage people to participate a bit more in this discussion! I’d welcome some more opinions or impressions on it to help me work through it.

#re2 remake #ada wong #aeon #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake

[myaekingheart]

137. Dishonor

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               Storm clouds rolled in overhead as Rei made her way cautiously to the dango shop. Toshio peered up at the sky, tongue lopping out of his mouth as if he was anxiously awaiting the first raindrops. Truthfully, Rei didn’t want to do this. Not today. Not ever, actually. But Sekkachi had not given her much of a choice. She said what she had said, left her consolation gift, and Rei was required to confront her now. To interrogate her on this rapid change of heart. Had Rei’s scathing words really gotten through to her? Or was Sekkachi just attempting to stroke her own ego? Expecting forgiveness on the grounds of having given a thoughtful gift? Either way, Rei didn’t think she cared enough to find out and yet here she was, meeting her anyway. The unavoidable tug in her chest dragged her onward.

               Sekakchi was seated in their usual spot when Rei arrived, a cigarette pinched between taut lips. She gazed out at the passerby, absentminded and forlorn. Rei idled in the doorway, clenching and unclenching her fist at her side. From behind the counter, Amai gently invited Rei to sit with a gentle nod toward the table. The look in her rosy eyes hinted that she was somehow emotionally invested in the situation, even though this had nothing to do with her whatsoever. Gritting her teeth, Rei made her way to the table, crossed her arms authoritatively, and cleared her throat.

               “I was wondering how much longer you were going to keep me waiting” Sekkachi said. She frowned as she smashed the tip of her cigarette into the ash tray.

               “Is that really all you have to say?” Rei snapped back. “Not even a ‘hello’? No ‘how are you’?” Rolling her eyes, she flopped down into the booth with great frustration, already regretting ever doing this.

               Sekkachi reached for her glass of water, rolling it back and forth between her hands and letting the condensation drip down her fingers. “So is there a reason you called me here?” she asked. Her voice was far less abrasive than usual; her trademark sting had completely dissolved. Instead, she sounded strained, bitter, sad. Rei refused to let this fact snuff out her anger.

               “Don’t you start with me” she snapped, pointing a harsh index finger in Sekkach’is face. “Listen, the only reason I asked you here was to formally thank you for the gift. Nothing else.” She gritted her teeth, forced herself to concentrate. “Honestly, if my own morals weren’t so damn loud, I wouldn’t even give you this much, but it didn’t feel right to not at least acknowledge it, so there. Thank you. Now fuck you.”

               Long, calloused fingers traced the grooves of the wooden table as Sekkachi pursed her lips and absorbed the sharp, heartless gratitude. “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?” she asked softly.

               “Why the fuck should I?” Rei snapped. “I’ve forgiven you way too many times, Sekkachi. This is the last straw. I’m through.”

               “I know” Sekkachi whispered. For a moment, Rei even thought she saw sincere regret in her face. But no, that was impossible. A trick of the light, even. Sekkachi regretted nothing. Or at least nothing they spoke of aloud.

               Rei leaned back in her seat, mildly satisfied with Sekkachi’s dejection. “I’m glad we’re on the same page then” she muttered. “Honestly, I hope you get to sit with this for the rest of your life. And I hope it eats you away inside every miserable morning you wake up.”

               “It will” Sekkachi pursed her lips.

               “Good” Rei spat. She eyed the door, began scooting her way out of the booth. “Well then, I’ve said everything I needed to say.”

               “Wait!” Sekkachi called, suddenly desperate. She reached out to take hold of Rei’s wrist. Her eyes were wide with longing. A clap of thunder rattled the sky. “You only just got here” she said. “And the weather’s bad. At least stay and…and get something to eat.”

               “Why should I?” Rei scoffed. “It’s not like you are.”

               Sighing, Sekkachi reined in her mounting frustrated and muttered, “Fine. I’ll get food, too. Just…don’t go. Not yet.”

               In all their years of friendship, Rei didn’t think she had ever seen Sekkachi so pathetic and needy. As much as she wanted to abandon her, to revel in the sight of her groveling in the mud, deep down Rei wanted to keep twisting the knife. It wasn’t often that she was given an opportunity like this.

               The pair sat in silence for a long, torturous moment, speaking only to place their orders with Amai. She cocked a brow in suspicion when Sekkachi ordered something other than ice water for once in her life, but did not question it. The tension was almost palpable. Her emotional investment had since waned in contrast.

               “So…” Rei finally said, attempting to sound as apathetic as possible, “What made you get that blanket, anyway?”

               “Chikara suggested it” Sekkachi replied, eyes downcast. Rei froze. So she had spoken with Chikara after all. It made sense. Rei didn’t really consider Sekkachi capable of coming to terms with this on her own. Sekkachi took a meager sip of her water and continued. “I was so pissed about what happened, I called her up to see if she thought I was being irrational or not.”

               “And?”

               “What do you think?” Sekkachi snarked. A little of her usual flame lingered in her tone.

               “I’m not surprised” Rei replied, suppressing a chuckle. “She always did know how to whip your ass back in line.”

               Shaking her head, Sekkachi swirled her water in her glass and replied softly, “She made it very clear to me just how out of line I was. I just—I don’t know, there’s been a lot of shit going through my mind lately.”

               “Oh yeah?” Rei scoffed. “Like what?” She doubted anything Sekkachi was facing was any worse than her own inner turmoil.

               Sekkachi swatted at the air dismissively. “It’s not that important, shit’s just hit the fan on the home front” she said sourly. “Tenjikubotan recently broke up with one of her gentleman callers, and has been hysterical ever since. As if she doesn’t have dozens of men lining up for her on the daily, the dumb bitch. And Roru had to drop out of the chunin exams at the last minute. Turns out one of her teammates is anorexic or something. Passed out during training and had to get rushed to the hospital. So of course I’m stuck dealing with all of their bullshit.”

               Rei cocked a brow, unamused but deep down involuntarily sympathetic. “As if that gives you a free pass to talk shit” she muttered.

               “I said I was sorry!” Sekkachi shouted, gripping at her sapphire hair in frustration. “What more do you want from me? Listen, I’m still not totally happy about this but I know it’s not my place to say anything. I heard that loud and clear when Chikara ripped me a new one. But also, I just…I don’t want to lose you.”

               Pursing her lips, Rei turned her attention to the street as she considered Sekkachi’s words. The rain was pouring heavily now, soaking the ground and fogging shop windows. Something uncomfortable took root in the pit of her chest. An uncertainty. “So what?” Rei finally muttered, bitter. “Still doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

               “And I wouldn’t expect you to” Sekkachi replied. “I just want you to know that I admit I made a big fucking mistake. I fucked shit up. I never should have said what I did. I know you’re happy about this, and that this is what you’ve always wanted. I had no right to shit on your parade. I was just…” Here, her voice trailed off and her brown eyes dropped to the floor. Toshio tilted his head up at her from underneath the table.

               “Just what?” Rei asked. She was nowhere near in the mood for suspense.

               Sekkachi chewed her lower lip, shook her head. She hated to admit this. She hated feeling weak and pathetic and—“Scared” she finally answered. Heaving a sigh, she asked, “Remember that mission where you got captured, and the enemy was convinced you were knocked up? And you got so freaked out about it that you dragged me to the hospital to get a formal test done?” Rei nodded. “I told you that no matter what the result would be, I’d be there for you. I wasn’t lying when I said that. But I also knew deep down that you were fine. I didn’t think you were pregnant, and you weren’t. Listen, Rei, I want to be there for you. I don’t want to abandon you. I’d never be able to live with myself if something happened to you when I had my back turned. But I’m just…I’m fucking terrified for you. I don’t want you to end up getting hurt, or worse—”

               “I won’t” Rei interrupted. Slightly taken aback, Sekkachi recoiled. Her eyes glistened, her mouth slack. This was perhaps the most vulnerable Rei had ever seen her and that alone scared her. Where was the sharp sting of her words? The abrasive apathy? Rei had underestimated just how badly Naru’s death had broken her, it seemed. Amai slipped their orders across the table, acting quickly so as to not interrupt their conversation. Rei gave a minute smile and nod as thank you, waited for privacy before saying more. “I know you’re scared, and I know you have every reason to be, but don’t you think I’m fucking terrified, too? This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, I-I didn’t mean for things to happen this way” she admitted.

               “Do you regret it?” Sekkachi asked. She knew the question was likely out of line, but she needed to know regardless.

               Sucking in a sharp breath, Rei shook her head. “No. I don��t regret it at all.”

               Sekkachi nodded slowly, deliberating. “That’s…that’s good” she whispered. “That’s really good.”

               “Do you regret it?” Rei asked, and it was not her own pregnancy that she was referring to but rather Sekkachi’s less than stellar reaction.

               Sekkachi poked at her food, unable to look Rei in the eyes. She had ordered a big brick of honey toast, one of Naru’s favorites, that she knew she would never realistically be able to eat. Sitting before it at a time like this just felt right. Comforting. As if Naru was somehow here with them. She would’ve known exactly what to say and do at a time like this. Naru would’ve kept Sekkachi in check, clapped a hand over her mouth before she said something dumb and encouraged her to be more enthusiastic and involved.

               Truthfully, Sekkachi regretted a lot of things. This—the circumstance at hand—just so happened to be one of them. “Haven’t I proven myself guilty enough?” she said sourly. “Rei, I accept it now. If this is what you want, I accept it. I’ll do my best to be there for you, and to help as much as I can. I just…I need you to promise me one thing.”

               “What?” Rei asked. She was almost even too scared to know.

               Sekkachi glanced around the shop once, twice, three times over as if she questioned the validity of their privacy. They were like actors on a stage, spotlights glaring, with an entire audience privy to their own personal melodrama. That was all well and good but this, this one fragile moment, they could not have. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, Sekkachi’s hand skated slowly across the table to take hold of Rei’s. Her grip was tight, clammy, desperate. Rei wondered if her illness had already begun to flare. And then she opened her eyes, locking tight on Rei. A hoarse whisper hung on her tense, quivering lips. “Just…don’t you dare die on me. You promise?”

               Rei gulped back her own anxiety, squeezed Sekkachi’s hand in terrified solidarity. “I promise.”

#rei natsuki #sekkachi fumeiyo #kakashi x oc #the scarecrow and the bell #naruto #naruto oc #fanfiction

[theadorablespderman]

Everything to love about Far From Home not in this order:

Literally seeing that opening with all our loved avengers that are no more.

Whitney Houston “I will always love you” made me cry because damnit Tony’s face was right THERE! NOT OK!

The blip footage was pretty damn funny not gonna lie.

Peter’s cute ass plan to tell MJ how he feels.

MJ’s favorite flower being a Black Dalia because of the murder. Literally a girl I can relate too. Murderinos for life sister. Idk but it just made her sooo relatable!

The fact that Brad is a kid grown up from the blip and that made him seem all the weirder for MJ.

Jealous Peter was so freaking amazing! Oh my gosh! That face he’d get. I’m a sucker for jealousy and they did it so good.

Making MJ this awesome character she was before but also obviously has this softer layer where she does have flaws and insecurities and she’s really sweet but also so badass. That was amazing.

The starting relationship between Peter and Beck. It was cute and so I was sad knowing that Beck was somehow going to be the villain.

Also let’s talk about how Beck is basically Syndrom from the incredibles.

That scene with Peter and Brad....the pure terror when he snapped that picture

Also seeing how big of a dick Brad is and how unhealthy jealous he was.

“Nick Fury” getting ghosted, showing up in Venice, tranquilising Ned (don’t touch him you monster) and then promptly highjacking Peters Summer trip.

Showing the emotional trama Peter is going through. The anxiety, the greiving. It was very reminiscent of Iron Man 3 when Tony suffers from PTSD after the battle of New York. I loved that they showed Peter reacting as any kid would, many adults too, which is to just try and forget anything happened but being faced with the reality every day. So well done.

Happy and May’s relationship. Enough said 😂😂

I feel cheated we didn’t see Mr delmore again.

Addressing all the problems the Blip/Snap created. High school aging, school, drinking ages, homelessness and housing issues. That’s just the start of it I’m sure but they covered those pretty well and I love that.

The technology that made Beck into Misterio was so well done. Instead of some frankly, kinda far fetched story that he came from an alternate earth (which I was willing to believe but felt it was a cop out in terms of plot and character) they showed the real world issues that superhero’s can create. The Enemies that have a real deep rooted hatred for hero because they’ve personally been betrayed or wronged by them. Because marvel has always made clear, everyone is not on the hero’s side.

Steeping Misterio’s powers in tech which is classing marvel but again, so brilliantly done in this movie. I loved the development. Because at first glance, half way through, I was thinking “wow this is really kinda weird and unexplained and too witchcraft for what marvel usually brings to the superpower backstory” I know it’s weird to say after everything marvel has done. But it seemed just a tad out there without being too hard to grasp. Which again was brilliantly done because that was the whole point.

The nod to Misterio’s helmet even when Beck was in the hologram suit watching everything play out. I guess it was his screen? But I loved the staple of even without his big over the top suit he still had the trademark helmet. Great costume design.

Peter’s soft gazes towards MJ. Nearly gave me a cavity they were so sweet! Ahhh sooo cute

Mr. Harrington’s marital problems nearly made me pee my pants....we all knew here in the fandom that shit like that would half to happen but my god lol

The opera scene was sooo freakin cute and that one step Peter took when he saw Brad move in was so freaking cute and hot!

MJ running after him and finding the critical peice of information to crack the case wide open. Loved it.

Betty and Ned’s Sicily sweet romance that you knew couldn’t possibly last. They really nailed the realistic high school romance. But I still ship it.

The bus scene was epic. And when Peter knocked Flash out...god it was amazing.

Mj obviously having love eyes towards Peter same as he does for her.

THE FACT THAT HE ACTUALLY BOUGHT THAT NECKLACE FOR HER OH MY GOD! I CANT GET A GUY TO TEXT ME BACJ LET ALONE BUY A NECKLACE LIKE THAT WHICH PROBABALY COST A GOOD CHUNK OF CHANGE IT WAS SO FREAKING AMAZING AND CUTE AND TOUCHING.

All the iron man images got me feeling depressed as hell

“are you being serious because I was only like 67% sure?” That was amazing. Seeing MJ get so excited and trying to keep that hidden was awesome

The fact that she was so pleased with herself but also played it hella cool when Ned walked in and she said she figured it out. Literally that is me.

The shirtless Peter trope that we all wanted and freaking got! So freaking cute how she tried to peak at his abs. Like understandable girl.

The fucking illusions. Turning our sweet trusting Peter into a ball of mess. I was too.

God when he had to tell himself it wasn’t real but it still totally feels like it is.

Him trying to save MJ when she’s “thrown off the Eiffel Tower”

Every traumatizing thing Beck shows and tells him during the illusion. So shitty.

Seeing Tony’s grave, seeing iron man come out. That was awful and we all felt it in the movie because we’ve lost him too. We could FEEL that slap same as Peter.

Beck telling Peter that Tony’s death was his fault. I was abouta hurl myself at the movie screen.

Every illusion done in a way that just when you think it’s over, it’s never stopped. You forget what’s real and you feel trapped in it same as Peter does.

WHEN HE GETS HIT BY THE TRAIN!!!!!!!!!! Nearly had a damn heart attack!!!! My mom had to look over and ask if I was ok because I literally stopped breathing for a solid 30 seconds.

Showing gradually just how insane and evil Misterio was.

HAPPY BEING CONCERNED FOR PETER! LIKE SINCERELY AND HONESTLY CONCERNED! It’s good to know he’s got Happy to take care of him and May but that Peter still has a father type figure he can count on after Tony. Because you know Tony wouldn’t have put up with any of that getting hit by a train shit.

Also where the hell was Karen? We missed her. We got Edith but Karen wouldn’t have let Misterio take her over. WHERE WAS KAREN!!

Peter crying and needing to know Happy was real. Broke me heart

That hug between them was so sweet and you can see the concern on Happy’s face

Happy and Peter opening up to each other was so awesome considering their relationship in Homecoming.

ALL THE TONY and PETER PARRELLS! All of them!!!!!!!!! Not the people saying “Spider-Man’s the next Ironman” no the actual hints and glimpses at how similar him and tony actually are. The hologram gauntlet shot, a straight parallel to Iron Man when Tony is building his first real suit. Obviously “Back in Black” by Led Zeplen (formally known as AC/DC) playing. Another obvious hint toward Tony. The Stark sunglasses. Peter falling with the parachute and it literally looks like Ironman with his jet stream behind him from a distance. There’s so much more I’ll do a whole other post on.

Of course: “I love Led Zeplin!” Hahaha it’s such a kid thing to say! I’ve said it before I knew the big differences between AC/DC and Led Zeplin. It was so freaking perfect.

Peter making his suit and Happy’s face. Bittersweet and I live for the affection he holds for Peter now.

The Netherlands Holding cell...must I say more?

Brad’s downfall and MJs amazing comment about him taking pictures of people in the bathroom. Ep-ic. Even flash was like “bro that’s so weird”

Mr. witchcraft was hilarious and I loved his aside with Brad “I’m gonna be the cool teacher and tell you you can’t do that anymore.”

Flash is definately Gay or Bi and I’m so here for it. That wink he makes to Peter proves it.

All the near death truths in the vault of the tower.

MJ BADDASS COMES SWINGING WITH THE MACE AND IT WAS LEGINDARY OH MY GOD! YES GIRL! She’s my idol I love her so much.

Peter and his “Peter Tingle” And while we’re on the subject the banana he gets to the face while packing.

Important. His amazing skills at the end trusting his instincts (which is great because May says in regards to MJ, but it applies to this too) May tells Peter to trust his instincts and don’t think too much. And that’s what he does when he defeats Beck.

The bad ass “you can’t fool me anymore” after redirecting the gun away from his head at the end. Literally was so intense and well done.

Peter and MJ’s kisses! I loved how awkward it was at first and the slightly less awkward one. They really accurately captured the awkwardness of teenagers in love. Like that’s what it’s like guys.

Show me MJ’s parents you cowards, or show me something. Anything. I just want to know the nature of the situation.

Ned and Betty’s breakup. So funny and honestly not surprising at all. But still I ship them.

The hand hold. So cute.

May and Peter still being the cutest aunt and nephew duo there ever was.

I totally thought Peter was going to end with telling the world he was spiderman....BUT SOME OTHER ASSHOLES DID IT FOR HIM AND MADE HIM INTO A VILLAN AND IM PISSED. LOOKING AT YOU MR JAMESON YOU PEICE OF SHIT.

The movie ended and I have no idea what’s next.

Mid credit of MJ swinging through New York. Home girl doesn’t like and neither do I. Looks full on terrifying we don’t blame you hun.

After credit where the skrulls have been playing Maria and Nick fury for the whole movie. Honestly it made more sense because Nick fury seemed just a bit off. ALSO WHERE IS THE REAL NICK FURY at and I’m so psyched to see where this new movies are gonna go!

Alright that all for now folks!!!! Everything about the movie was great!!! I will have to watch again ad see if anything more pops up. Sorry for any spelling errors I’m on my phone.

#peter parker #marvel #spiderman #mcu #michelle jones #spideychelle #spider-man #spider-man: homecoming #avengers #tony stark #ned leeds #spiderman far from home #spider man: far from home #far from home spoilers #spoilers

[buckleyydiaz]

Dirty, Dirty

Moreid, 2.9k words. Also on ao3

Reid had been perfectly happy just fantasizing about the dream life that he wanted to have with Morgan. He let himself think that anyway, but it didn’t take much for everything to all come tumbling down around him.

Derek had bullied Reid into going to a club with him and the girls, finally wearing down the resistance Spencer only ever showed to try and hide just how much he truly wanted to be with the older man.

They walked into a building that was far too loud for Spencer’s own tastes, with lights too bright, music turned up too high, and too many sweaty people crowding on the dance floor. And whilst that phased Spencer slightly, he continued on, willing to sacrifice his own comfort and ease to see Morgan look so happy, so carefree.

It was something he didn’t see enough of on his co-worker’s face, not with the reality of the job being what it was. Anger, focus, and carefully concealed sadness most often graced Derek’s face, so the change was a relief.

But Spencer had already noticed a change, before they had driven to the bar, before Spencer had even said yes to going.

Derek had been happier over the last few days, less on edge when on the most recent case, less bored when doing his paperwork. It seemed as though something else had taken over the forefront of his mind, the same way that thought of Morgan had taken over Spencer’s.

Spencer had always been acutely aware of his feelings for Morgan, from early on in his career in the BAU. It was just a fact of his life, something that he lived with, never speaking about it or acting on it, leaving those thoughts to himself, as company for lonely nights in bed, or just when he wanted to feel like his future was actually going somewhere, like he could have the family that he had dreamed of since he was young, a desire that had always been pushed back as unimportant compared to his academic pursuits.

And Reid knew the thoughts weren’t something he should have been having. He shouldn’t be thinking of his best friend in that way, it was dirty, wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t his fault that Morgan, despite generally coming off as a straight man, occasionally seemed to throw him hints, taking the flirting just a step too far to be friendly.

That didn’t make it easier when he looked up from the back of his friends’ heads which he had been following through the club, to see a woman sitting at the table to which they were headed. It didn’t make it hurt any less when Derek turned and grinned at him, Prentiss, JJ and Garcia, and began to introduce them to the vaguely familiar woman in front of them.

“Hey!” Derek called out, capturing the girl’s attention, “These are my friends, Emily, JJ, Penelope, and Spence. Guys, this is Alexa.”

At that moment, Spencer began to lose all focus on what was happening. He took a seat at the table, not trusting his legs to hold him up, and lost control to his mind.

Of course the woman looked familiar. All it took was the name and he knew exactly who he was looking at. Alexa Lisbon, the girl from his highschool who was behind the most humiliating moment of his life, the girl who came up with the master plan to tie a twelve year old boy up to a goalpost, naked, by tricking him into thinking that for once, something good was happening to him. The girl who he had named in a story that Morgan clearly hadn’t cared enough to remember. 

He looked at her, seeing that she hadn’t made the same connection that he had, hadn’t realised that the man standing in front of her was once the nerdy boy she had loved to torment. He looked at the way she had her head leaning against the crook of Derek’s neck as they stood side by side.

Spencer couldn’t help but wonder what Morgan saw in that… that bitch, that he didn’t see in Reid. Maybe she was closer to Derek’s age, was the one who wore designer clothing and had perfect hair, skin, and a gorgeous face, but surely Morgan wasn’t that superficial, could look past, see all the things that Spencer had and Alexa didn’t. 

He sat there, for what seemed like it was much longer than it realistically was. When he realised people were trying to talk to him, and he was just ignoring them, he hurriedly excused himself, leaving to his car under the guise of going to the bathroom. He would send Emily a message in a few minutes, but he was so uncomfortable there that escaping the discomfort won out over his need to be polite.

Crying in his car. Spencer had never been known for having interesting weekends or nights out, but this truly had to be an all time low. He was sitting in his small old car, crying over a man who chose a horrid girl over him, a man who had so much more to offer.

Contrary to popular belief, especially amongst the team, despite not being as stereotypically masculine as the rest of the men of the BAU, Spencer had never been one to wallow in his own misery, or be overly insecure. He knew his abilities, and had long ago accepted and understood his shortcomings. 

In a way, that made it harder for him to get over the Derek and Alexa thing. He knew he was better than her - more genuine, smarter, kinder, more professional, didn’t enjoy bringing harm on innocent young boys who just wanted to be liked. He could acknowledge that he wasn’t as typically beautiful as Alexa, but Derek had always referred to him as “Pretty Boy,” and surely that had to count for something.

He knew he didn’t have long before someone went looking for him, reminding him to text Emily - the one who was least likely to try and hunt him down, interrogate him. He wished he was strong enough to stay, to just prove to Derek what he was missing, but he wasn’t that type of person. He wasn’t the kind of person to go out and find another guy or girl to prove his point, so he was just stuck, jealousy burning inside himself.

With each tear that fell down his cheeks, his anger at the bitch in the club with his friends rose. It should be Spencer spending time with Derek, dating him, fucking him, cuddling him, loving him. Not a girl who cared more about what they looked like than if they cared for each other, if they were perfect together in the way that Morgan and Reid could be, would be.

So he was the one sitting alone, wishing that Derek would finally see who was right in front of him, had been, for all the years they had known each other. 

--

Derek could tell something was wrong from the moment he had introduced Alexa. Spencer became guarded, closed, and his mind drifted to something else. 

At first, he couldn’t tell what had happened to cause it. He had expected his best friend to be happy that he had found a beautiful, kind woman to be with, but instead he seemed angry, even sad.

He tried his best to keep his focus on the conversation, playing the charming, happy boyfriend that he was supposed to be, had to be, in order to keep up appearances. But it felt odd, almost unnatural, especially when Spencer was ignoring them all when they tried to talk to him.

“Sorry, excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom,” was the first that they had heard from him all night beyond the initial exchange of ruched awkward pleasantries. Spencer raced off, out of sight, and Derek had to resist the strong urge to follow him, to make sure he was okay.

Because Spencer was his best friend. And no one would want a friend that close to go on feeling uncomfortable or out of place. It wasn’t right.

But it wasn’t right for him to up and leave for no real reason, either. Spencer had said he was going to the bathroom, and there was no real reason to suspect anything different, other than the pit of dis-ease growing in his stomach.

As the time ticked by, seemingly dragging on for as long as it could, Morgan grew increasingly restless, concerned for his Pretty Boy. A phone buzzed from its position on the table. When Emily flipped hers over to check, she saw a notification, reading it out to the rest of them.

“I am not feeling well, and I am going to go home. Don’t worry about me, have fun.”

Barring Alexa, they all turned to each other, concerned by being told not to worry. It was uncharacteristic for Spence to just up and leave, especially with just a text message, even if he was ill.

Unable to sit still and do nothing any longer, Morgan stood up. 

“I’m going to go and see if he has left yet. This isn’t like him, I’m a bit worried.”

Alexa looked up at him and pouted, getting on his nerves. Spencer would never do that, he thought, he would be too worried about the other person. It's so selfish of her, maybe she was just a pretty face.

Derek walked off towards the car park, wondering what the hell had happened to make Spencer so upset. He didn’t enjoy going to clubs, but he never reacted like that. So it had to be something to do with Alexa.

Nothing reasonable came to mind. It wasn’t like his Pretty Boy to be jealous, and judging off the women Derek had seen him with before, Alexa wasn’t even his type. It had to be something else then. Something personal, something serious enough to make him betray the manners that were usually important to him.

That was when everything began to click into place. His childhood. His Pretty Boy had been bullied and teased relentlessly, and he remembered Alexa telling him that she had grown up in Las Vegas. Oh shit, he thought. The case, where Owen Savage went around shooting people who had wronged him, when they had been alone in the boy’s room.

An Alexa Lisbon had been the one who had used herself as bait, in a situation ending up with Spencer tied naked to a goal post, left there for hours until some teacher had found him and untied him.

No wonder Spencer left, and it was his fault for being a stupid idiot who forgot about his best  friend telling him one of the moments that would stick with him for the rest of his life, haunt him. 

Spencer’s car was still in the car park, and as much as Derek wanted to go and talk to him, apologise more than anyone would believe to be humanly possible, he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, or if it would just make things worse for Spence, a reminder of how much his supposed best friend had fucked up. 

Instead, he decided to walk back inside, a newfound sense of purpose taking over. He was breaking up with her, in front of everyone, because she deserved to feel the same humiliation she had brought upon Spencer, and if this did anything towards achieving that, he would be happy.

As he approached the table, glaring, JJ, Emily and Garcia looked shocked, and Alexa looked confused.

“How could you… you absolute bitch! I can’t believe I dated you, you are absolutely disgusting! How could anyone do that to a 12 year old boy? Get away from me, or I swear to god…”

A look of realisation dawned on all of their faces, although his colleagues still looked shocked, and slightly confused, whilst Alexa seemed to just get angry.

“That was Spencer Reid? Really? How could a man like you want anything to do with someone like him?”

Suddenly his team mates no longer looked concerned, instead just angry, ranging from pissed off to murderous.

Before Derek even had a chance to say anything, his Baby Girl stood up. 

“I think you are going to leave now, because you don’t want to know what is gonna happen to you otherwise. Maybe every computer and phone you have ever owned will stop working? How does that sound?”

Alexa recoiled, and began to walk away from the four angry FBI agents.

“Well this has been a night,” Emily said, “Is Spencer okay?”

Derek realised that he hadn’t even checked up on Spence, and became alarmed, hoping that he was still in his car outside the club.

“I didn’t get the chance to talk to him. I realised who she was, and then I came straight back in to get rid of her.”

The girls turned and looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Really Morgan? Go and check if he is still there! Talk to him.” JJ instructed.

Feeling rather reprimanded, he headed back out into the cold night, looking for Spencer’s car. To his luck, he found it, still parked where it had been earlier. 

He paused for a minute, unsure of what to say if he could get Spencer to talk to him, because a million apologies would not be enough to make up for what he had done.

Knocking on the window of the locked car, he prayed that Spencer would hear him. It hurt him to see his friend looking the way he did, his head in his hands, crying. When the first few knocks went unanswered and likely unheard, he tried again, louder.

That seemed to draw Spencer out of his own mind. He gestured for Morgan to go away, but he stood his ground. Derek wasn’t leaving his Pretty Boy in such a state.

Spencer finally relented after a few more minutes, very aware of how stubborn Derek could be when he wanted to.

Before the door was even fully open, before he was in the car, Derek was apologising. The remorse he felt could not be put into words.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realise who she was, but she is gone now, you can come back. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

Derek paused for a moment, expecting Spencer to say something back, but instead a silence enveloped the car.

As he opened his mouth to continue on his tirade of apologies, Spencer cut him off.

His voice was rough and unsteady as he spoke.

“What did you see in her?” He asked. 

The question took Derek by surprise, his mouth opening slightly as he struggled to come up with an answer.

“I mean it Derek, what did you see in her?”

Spencer no longer sounded quite so sad, insistence and anger controlling his voice.

Derek remained silent, as no words came to his head. It was something akin to vanity, but not quite. She was beautiful, yes, and they’d look good together, but it was largely a distraction from other things. Things that he didn’t want to feel. Things that he couldn’t come to terms with feeling.

“What does she have that I don’t, Morgan?” He recoiled at the use of his last name, “She’s prettier, I know that, but surely I’m smarter, kinder? I know I’m far from perfect, but I’m better than her, surely.”

Derek’s thoughts were racing through his head, and he could barely keep up with them. What did that mean? Did Spencer just want to prove that she was horrible, and he shouldn’t have dated her, or was he saying something else, something that meant maybe he could finally dig up the feelings he had attempted to bury years ago.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about you, that I have no right to be jealous, but it’s hard when you flaunt that you are dating a stupid bitch who I know I am better than!”

So Spencer did feel that way towards him. And he was right. As always. Derek would be better off with Spencer than with Alexa, or any of the other girls just like her that he had dated over the years. He just hated that it had taken hurting his friend to realise that.

“Why do you always have to be right Spencer? I am so sorry that I dated her, that I forgot what you told me, that I never connected the dots. I just saw a chance, a chance to make my life easier, by dating a woman, rather than ever even trying to get the person I actually want. And it hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“You should go back to the club. The girls are probably wondering where you are. I’m just going to head home.”

“No, Pretty Boy, come on. You should come back in. The girls are really worried about you. But before that, I want to try something. Tell me no, and I’ll stop, but I think we both want this.”

Derek slowly leaned in, giving Spencer plenty to back out, pull away, but their lips connected.

When they finally pulled away, a comfortable silence rested over the car.

“How about we head back in now, before the girls come looking for us,” Derek said, and they laughed, before leaving the car, and walking to the club again, this time, hand in hand.

#moreid #derek morgan #sperek #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x derek #derek x spencer #fanfic #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminalminds #doctor reid #derek #morgan #reid #angst #fluff #cute #happy ending #ao3 #on ao3 #fandom #criminal minds fandom #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #garcia