#in emergency situations where i am able to Do Shit i actually am very good at keeping calm though

[dandyshucks]

i think the simultaneously funniest and most frustrating thing abt my brain when things like this happen is that my brain freezes up a bit and can only think of like "aw gee whiz now xyz mundane thing i had scheduled into today won't happen" like girl WHAT there is shit going down and thats what ur thinking about ???

#in emergency situations where i am able to Do Shit i actually am very good at keeping calm though #and doing what needs to be done #in general in stressful situations where im helping other ppl then im such a good person to have around dhdkdl #this came in handy at two of my past workplaces bc i would be able to just do what needed to be done quickly and efficiently #when things got Bad in those places #but shdksl when it comes to situations where I can't do anything or where i dont Know what needs to be done ... augh #then i just shut down a little bit or go numb at least and my brain automatically starts thinking abt mundane and routine things #girl there is a medical emergency happening !!! (''but we've been through this before. several times over the past few months'' says brain) #example a: i feel a little disappointed that i won't get to do crochet with mother like we had planned #example b: i want to go back to sleep even with this all going on #(i feel awful that this is what brain is thinking about rn dhdkdl but. better than incessantly worrying ig? though im doing that too...) #ah well djdlsl I'll go shower so if anything Really Bad happens then at least im clean and dressed and ready to get over to the hospital #dandy.cmd #vent // #medical tw

[docholligay]

Misty: Ep 2

Hello! This is about up to Episode 2 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY episode 2 of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond the second episode, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me.  Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like  “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember  that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you  talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all  I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I  could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please  just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open!

One of the major victories, so far, of this show is the way it handles Misty. Misty is both a victim and a villain, and that is one of my absolute favorite places for a character to be. They also really avoid the “poor, beleaguered nerd cri cri” that I am so opposed to in fiction. 

Don’t misunderstand me, I feel deeply for Misty in that opening scene with the phone call, because I was her, minus that fact that I most definitely did not have my own phone line*. When she talks about Plato and opinion being the wilderness between knowledge and ignorance, but she’s so socially uncanny she has no idea how to respond to the girls on the other end of the line without playing more into their trap, I cringed because that could have described me PERFECTLY from about the ages of 7 to 13. When i was little, it was basically decided by my classmates that no one was going to attend my birthday party, and so, not a single person showed up. I am not unsympathetic to what this shit feels like. 

So I LOVE how the show goes, “Oh, you feel for her, but as an adult, you also would find her offputting and unlikeable” and they throw us into this date situation where Misty is being unspeakably weird, and not understanding how the social game is played. There are many, many of us who were Misty as children, and grew up to learn how the game was played. I learned it so well I actually became a mean girl human nightmare from about the ages of 15 to 22-23. Calling it a game is even a touch dismissive. We are pack animals, and understanding how pack communication is done is a life skill. 

Misty is, even as an adult, unlikeable. Part of me wonders if she, too, is trapped at 17 the way I’ve accused other characters of being. Did it have to be this way? Might her life have changed if she went to college, was able to reinvent herself? I mean, we aren’t really given anything, but in that opening scene, I can see she has a very nice room, with her own phone line, and nice clothes. It SEEMS like her parents care about her at least to some degree. And that is, I think, a major part of resilience. What might Misty have been if she wasn’t out in the wild? Who might she have become, and would it be a more socially appropriate person than she is now? 

Because she found a part of herself out there that I think she’s still clinging to. 

There are people who are born for certain situations, and certain moments. People who are incredibly good in a crisis. I may be an abrasive piece of shit in my day to day life, but I also am fairly good in a crisis. There’s Winston Churchill. Anyway, Misty is also one of those people who is great in a crisis. From the word go, she manages the situation with a very clear head, bracing herself as the plane crashes, immediately looking for the emergency door. She has excellent first aid skills--though I scoff at her having taken babysitter first aid, I have taken wilderness first aid, and that is shit from wilderness first aid and even a bit beyond--and proves herself invaluable to the team. 

All of that is fine. All of that is great, actually. 

But what this leads to is her manufacturing a crisis--well, that’s not fair, let’s instead say prolonging a crisis--so that she can continue to be liked and useful. When I saw the end of t6he episode, I was appalled, but I wasn’t SHOCKED. I think that’s a credit to the writers, who have shown us time and again how a REASONABLE person could not like Misty or find her offputting. This is the first time in her life that people have had nice things to say about her. She helped someone in need. 

And so it doesn’t surprise me that she went into healthcare, and I am 100% sure, though please, don’t tell me, that she wrecked Nat’s car. That’s why she’s joined up with the citizen detectives. Misty has CONTINUED to find ways to make herself the only one that can help. She has continued to chase that high of being in the woods and being the only one who knows what to do and it wouldn’t surprise me if she continued to either manufacture or prolong crises in order to maintain that position of usefulness. If the girls can’t LIKE her, they will NEED her.

#Doc watches Yellowjackets #Yellowjackets S1 E2

[cindydahlwrites]

The Crows as airline employees

(just bear with me okay?)

Kaz - Air traffic controller. Kaz is incredibly in control (HAHA) of his mind, and therefore can keep calm in any situation. In one of the most stressful jobs to exist that is a huge advantage. He also has amazing memory, and can keep track of all aircrafts he is in charge of with zero issues. Kaz is able to work at the most frequented airports without breaking a sweat - in fact, he needs to be crowded with work and constantly have something to worry about if he is to perform well. He can multi-task well, watch his radars, update his cards and communicate with pilots quickly and efficiently without once mixing up call signs. If there is a crisis, he can keep calm and help the pilots resolve it, all the while keeping an eye on the rest of his planes. He is always moderately polite and very straightforward, makes sure to be understood well and to give clear information. He doesn't need many breaks and those he does take are short, so he's always ready to take over. An emergency situation? Crash? Bad weather? Closed runway? Short staffed tower? No matter. Kaz Brekker has it all under control.

Inej - Pilot in charge. Captain Ghafa, need I say more? Actually, yes, I am going to say more. Inej is a very responsible person, well aware of the fact that every time she steps into the cockpit, she has tens if not hundreds of lives on her hands. She is in tune with whichever aircraft she is flying, controlling it as if by will. Her calm nature allows her to handle the responsibility for lives on board without panic, but she still makes sure to be prepared for any kind of situation. She always makes sure she's had an appropriate amount of sleep, that her plane is in top condition and that she had checked off every last line of any list. She is never unprofessional, she sticks to the rules and is very honest and communicates well with her copilots and ATC. Inej makes sure to practice for emergencies and constantly stays informed about the newest inventions in aircrafts, and if an emergency happens, she is always able to react accordingly and calmly within seconds. Passengers report that Captain Ghafa has the smoothest landings they've ever experienced.

Nina - Flight attendant. Nina has the perfect combination of charming while also taking no one's shit. She is able to exchange jokes and pleasant talk with the passengers and the rest of the crew and always does her best to make the flight enjoyable for everyone. She never loses her patience with high demand passengers or with babies that just can't stop crying. In fact, she is more likely to take the baby from you and somehow lull it to sleep to let you rest. The fact that she knows many languages and has an amazing ability to learn more quickly, makes her communicate with all the more people better, and helps her put passengers whose language skills in foreign languages are not good at ease. However, once you cross a line, the sweet, funny Nina is gone and she lets you know, in a strong voice filled with no doubts, exactly what she thinks and what she needs you to do. She will not let anyone get away with breaking rules, puts rude passengers in their place and never jokes around or slacks off during demonstrations. If there is an emergency, there is no panic in her voice or face - her confidence makes you listen to her and automatically do what she says. She is fearless, capable and, even though many times her jokes and pleasant demeanor do not betray it, always alert and ready to jump to action.

Matthias - Baggage handler. Precise. Serious. Careful. Matthias is never late to his shift, never loses time talking to his colleagues and is very gentle. Where others throw luggage to have their job done as quickly as possible, Matthias actually focuses on making his each move count and is as fast as them without ever damaging a single suitcase. He never complains about a badly closed or wrapped baggage, and just fixes the mistake if he can and moves on. Overall, he is just very patient with customers that mess something up - he can always say it was their first time flying, or that they were in a hurry, or that they had no way of knowing that a suitcase of that particular material would get caught on the belt inside the plane and would require a little more manipulation from him. When transporting luggage across the airport, Matthias is very careful, but makes sure to lose no time that he could use for loading the baggage in or unloading it. He can expertly calculate the layout of the cargo and has a knack for fitting the luggage together in the limited space - it is like a huge game of Tetris, and Matthias always wins. In the company, he is famous for never having lost a single piece of baggage, and, when seeing a suitcase belonging to a child, always making sure not to scratch it or get it dirty, because he knows how much that would upset his little sister.

Wylan - Meteorologist. Countless radars and screens and alarms of different kind - Wylan understands them all. He is an expert when it comes to telling exactly how a certain type of weather can influence an aircraft, and issues many a message to pilots that other people would not be clever enough to notice. He can predict what is going to happen the next day, and those predictions are nearly always right. He watches weather patterns and is many times able to save the company money and worry by advising a plane against flying in a weather that seems normal, but would in minutes prove to be deadly. Not only that, Wylan also invents and constructs a great amount of machines and improvements to already existing radars. (Yes, it is a bit illegal, but the airline tries to ignore it since it is helpful.) He is an expert concerning microbursts and hailstorms, icing and deicing and is a great contributor to aviation safety concerning meteorology.

Jesper - Technician. Whether it is maintenance or repairs, Jesper always knows what to do. It is almost like he shares a connection with the airplane, feeling all its weak points and problems. Sometimes, even experts with years of experience can't figure out what exactly is damaged, and then Jesper comes along and analyzes it perfectly in mere minutes. He is attuned to the aircrafts, almost like a vet would be to animals. He never makes a mistake, and checking the manual for the correct way of doing something or the right size of spare parts is more of an afterthought. He is also super fast - so fast, in fact, that many people say he has magical hands when it comes to aircrafts. If there is overnight maintenance to be done, which would take a crew of men two tries to complete as not to stall the air traffic, Jesper would handle it alone, in one night only. It has happened a few times that he happened to be near an airplane that had a hidden fault, a fault that could potentially endanger the passengers and crew, and he somehow detected it and fixed it up. Best of all, he loves his job. Jesper is excited every single day, to come to work and spend hours upon hours with only planes for company. The huge engines, snapping thrust reversers, wide wings and countless lights and buttons in the cockpit that hide a fault, smaller or bigger, have never scared him at all.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #soc #crooked kingdom #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #matthias helvar #six of crows headcanons #I am tempted to write a fic about this but then again when am I not #aviation #planes #flying

[aspd-culture]

is it worth it to look into aspd diagnosis? or treatment? ive been questioning it a lot, considering the only person ive ever related to properly about mindset shit has dxed aspd and is convinced i have it. but does diagnosis/treatment really help much? (my roomate currently isnt in therapy, idk if the blog admin is but if anyone reading is maybe they could weigh in?) is it actually worth the hassle and label to get dxed if im pretty good at forcing myself to do shit and act "appropriately" anyway? theres shit other people in my life consider genuine issues, but i dont care myself for it or how they feel about it so itd be a big show in and of itself just making myself get in to see someone. if its not going to do anything for someone treatment resistance id rather just keep on how im going instead.

Oof, tough question. As a disclaimer, I am not a professional and I cannot give medical advice. The following is not in any way an attempt to sway your medical decisions, nor an attempt to discourage anyone from getting help.

I am personally professionally diagnosed and actively in therapy once a week, where I openly discuss my symptoms of ASPD with both my therapist and my psychiatrist.

First off, I definitely think that if someone with ASPD is advising you to look into it, that it is at least worth privately researching. That goes double if you find yourself relating heavily to them in ways you do not relate to prosocials (people without ASPD). Whether or not you have it, and whether or not you decide to seek a diagnosis and/or treatment, understanding this disorder and yourself better are never bad things. If you choose not to seek treatment at this time, knowing what you have or think you have (after a lot of research from many sources!) can lead you to developing safe and healthy coping mechanisms that can avoid you and your loved ones ending up negatively affected by your symptoms.

The question of if it's worth getting diagnosed is a tough one, and again I need to stress this is not medical advice, it is just my opinion. ASPD is a heavily stigmatized and misunderstood diagnosis. If you do not know your providers well, you could end up getting yourself into a situation where a doctor with stigma against ASPD may push you towards emergency treatment that you do not require. They shouldn't, and it's not legal for them to let their bias get in the way of their patients' lives, but it does happen.

If you are going to pursue diagnosis, I strongly advise taking it slowly and only doing so once you have built a strong relationship with your therapist. Mentioning your roommate's diagnosis without in any way implying you relate to their symptoms is a great way to slowly see how they feel about ASPD and make sure you are not entering yourself into an unsafe situation where they may abuse their power.

That said, even if you have a good provider, there are other repercussions to having a diagnosis to think about. The likelihood of adopting children is very low. The likelihood of being able to work in certain fields may be slim to none depending on your area's specific laws about private medical information. In some places, some jobs are allowed to require a full mental health workup from you including your diagnoses. Many of these jobs will not hire someone with ASPD. This is unlikely to affect you at a desk job, but very likely to affect you if you want to work in any caregiving position, or even around animals.

Additionally, if you are ever a defendant in court for any reason, the cards are considerably stacked against you if you are diagnosed with ASPD, even if you did not do anything wrong. The assumption is likely to be that you are guilty and/or a flight risk.

This is definitely not a diagnosis that, in the current state of the world, you want to be open about at work, with landlords, etc. There is little to no social accommodations for ASPD anyway, so keep this diagnosis on a need to know basis if you get it, for your own safety.

Because of all of this, if you are currently able to control your symptoms, you may want to consider if it is worth pursuing diagnosis.

That said, you do not need a dx to get help with symptoms. I honestly think everyone with the privilege to do so should try therapy unless they have particular reasons not to. It has been seriously helpful in my life, as someone with reasonably good control over my symptoms, because it lets me deal with the PTSD that caused the ASPD, and if I really get bothered by a symptom, or someone in my life does and I have nothing else to talk about, it's a safe place to get into that too.

No one ever said you have to tell your therapist everything. It's best to most times, because they are bound by confidentiality, but if you want to go there and only talk about specific things and never bother mentioning certain symptoms, that is an option. In fact, there are many therapists who prefer to work on symptoms directly as opposed to labeling things with diagnoses.

I personally found value in getting diagnosed, even weighed against the risks, because I needed to know what exactly was going on with me and have that confirmed by a professional. If you don't find value in that, there are therapists that agree with you.

Many therapists will have you make goals for therapy, but you can even walk into your intake with those goals and your philosophy on how you want to be helped and find out from day one if that therapist and you are a match in that regard. I would advise anyone looking into therapy to do their own research and find a therapist with good reviews and preferably who deals in the type of therapy you're interested in. I would say that anyone with trauma would likely have better experiences if they only work with trauma/PTSD specialized therapists, as to avoid a lack of trauma informed care.

At the end of the day it's your decision, but I found it can really help the balancing act of pretending to be normal if you have someone who is paid good money to let you unmask, talk openly about your symptoms and feelings on others, and get some advice that might make the whole controlling your symptoms thing easier in ways you didn't expect or think of.

Personally, I think the only way therapy would not help you is if the therapist you talk to is a bad match - and that's coming from someone who swore for many years that I would never go to therapy, and then when I tried it and got a bad match, gave up on it for a year. I'm glad I went back.

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #tw therapy #actually antisocial #actually aspd #antisocial personality disorder #aspd #aspd awareness #aspd traits #anons welcome #aspd stigma

[weabooweedwitch]

I don’t want this to come across as, like, pity because it’s not and I’m sure you don’t want that, I mean this in the normalest, friendliest, least parasocial way possible because having followed you for years and spoke to you a few times it sucks that you are in this situation and have had to repeatedly go through it: can we help you somehow? Ko fi donations, Amazon wishlist, therapy fund etc? Is there anything we could do to make things a little more bearable?

For one I just wanna say that it actually just in itself means a lot that people are wanting to help me or at least vocally reaching out because like.. this is such a big world we're living in and its so easy to feel like i dont mean shit or matter for shit or can change shit at all so its nice to know that like. I dunno.. im glad i was able to kinda find this space for myself because like i dont really have a social life and without you guys (using "you guys" as a general word for all of my online friends rn) i wouldn't have anyone else to turn to

And also I don't perceive you guys wanting to help me as pity at all and really its kind of just validation because I'm basically 24/7 doubting myself and "am I valid for x, am I valid for y" so when im having kind of a crisis and people actually say "shit bro you ok" that feels better than like. I dunno. What does mother usually say. Stuff that's meant to be supportive but is kind of just toxic positivity like "You're overreacting and don't even think about it" which, those can be valid grounding techniques but like, you usually try and soothe the initial feeling first and then tell yourself not to think about it if you're obsessing over it

So I typed up what accidentally turned into a huge paragraph but, as nice as an Amazon wishlist sounds --because it makes me feel good people like me and gifts are always nice of course-- I would feel guilty for even making that public, and, to be realistic, my rent is very cheap and the only reason I don't have a lot of savings is because I keep spending money on bullshit. I kind of need to exercise restraint and actually save money because uh like I've been working for like 2 or 3 years now and I basically still have what I started with. So. I guess TLDR is "i would feel guilty accepting gifts i can technically afford for myself and also I would feel like a total chump beggar 😔". Maybe when I learn more self kindness I'll feel less guilt accepting gifts I guess? Where i am right now, it just feels like I'm being, I dunno, manipulative

Monetary donations are kind of the same and I'm stricter on that and try not to take money unless there's some kind of emergency. I do worry about money a lot but its usually always in the "how can I support myself on my own in the future" sense. I mean, most people put away a small part of every paycheck, but my savings account actually kind of expired and got closed so I just have the one checking one and uh, it's easy for me to keep pulling out of it, you know 💀 but that circles back to "i have to personally learn how to exercise financial restraint" and also like. Let's not. Think about how all the socioeconomic policies in America aren't even remotely in my control so I should uh try and ignore that technically no job is paying enough and everyone has to have roommates or a spouse to afford anything 😅

And also. Yeah I'm ok on like therapy funds and stuff because I'm actually on state insurance, actually I'm trying to cut down my work hours to guarantee I stay in the right financial bracket so I can keep it. I was talking to a couple people last night and I might consider going to a doctor again soon but im really hesitant about it. It kinda seems like I need a more thorough evaluation from a psychiatrist and. Well.

I think my first "big goal" for right now is that I should put some money aside and. Uh. Well. Kinda quit my job for a while so I can focus on those sorts of things. I feel really bad even saying that but the fact is, the fact is, im a person with severe mental illness and depression and my current job involves random strangers constantly constantly treating me like shit and sometimes getting very verbally abusive and aggressive and sometimes just having someone suddenly approach me can be very startling? Did I ever tell you guys about the time a random older man just came up from behind me and briefly grabbed me from behind? It was ad a joke and I was on edge watching my peripheral vision for motion that entire week

So I guess to make a long story short I think I should. Focus on what I want to do in terms of medicine right now and really fight to pursue the fact I think some really important diagnoses have been missed, and to do that without a lot of stress, to have a flexible schedule to see a doctor, I think the best decision is to take off work for a while, which I think is a good idea anyways? So to do that with a clear conscience I just want to have a few months of my portion of rent and then some extra in my bank account so I won't have to stress about immediately getting back to work or getting a new job. Because that's another decision I have to make: for I want to brave the current job market and look for another job and risk the one I currently have.

Long answer is long but I have a lot of thoughts right now 💀 talking with you guys has been a huge help in of itself so thats the only payment I'll accept for right now 🥰

[skinni-girls-eat-books]

Saturday, April 13th, 2024!

8:19pm: Had a quick exchange with him again. Nothing has changed and I don't want to be obsessed with his socials again tbh. I still don't really get the whole "I'm so busy" thing when that was his #1 complaint with me. Like I actually don't understand, being busy is not a flex tbh. Being on your grind is 100% a flex but that goes with work hard play hard. Just saying you're busy makes you sound like an ass 😂 whatever I don't understand anything about him anymore.

I don't want to see his socials anymore because 1) it's all fake af. 2) it makes me wonder why he couldn't change for me, but in REALITY (the real world where I reside) he hasn't changed, his life got 100x easier. No rent, a more basic bitch that doesn't expect anything from him and is weird, and free weed, everyone giving him a ride everywhere (he doesn't even have to drive ever wtf), and everyone just treats him like a spoiled child. Yes..... I'm sure it IS easy to have an emergency fund when you live with your parents for free..... Wtf do you even need an emergency fund for? Wtf kind of emergency are you having, you run out of gas (omg wait he doesn't even drive so what am I talking about) scratch that.... The only emergencies I had living with my parents had to do with my car like..... Jesus I wish that was the fucking case nowadays 💀 Omg why am I even comparing the two of us. I feel like I just snapped back to reality, this guy is still acting like a high schooler. We are literally not able to be compared anymore. I really don't give myself enough credit for doing this shit on my own (really) for 6 months. Let's see your emergency savings after that, dumbass. Stfu. I'm not trying to be mean but we are not the same. I'm about to be done grinding, I've grinded for 7 yrs I'm tired AF. I'll say it again being busy is not a flex.

11:25pm: Ugh he just pisses me off because he's a fucking liar. You can reach me anytime my ass why does he keep saying that when it's not true. What a fuck up. I hate him

2:47am: Well I was on the phone with him for three hours oops probably just fucked up my karma big time. Ugh I need this semester to enddddd. Too much sitting around time, not enough leaving the house to meet new ppl time :/ likeeee I've said a million times and need to remind myself, I don't want to be the reason they break up. Also he said he's planning on moving out with her in 4 months so September? Damn they would've been together a whole year. He said it only feels like it's been a month for him and literally his stuff is still packed up in boxes like wtf. I guess that'll just make it easier to move. Well good for him he sounds like he's really on track for a good life. Idk literally whenever I ask him about her, it's never like super positive. Maybe he just likes that he constantly has something to complain about? I have no idea. He said she's clingy, but sometimes it's too much. And he always says it's ups and downs with them. He sounds like he's really changed, but he says he can't go through breaking another person's heart. Maybe he knows I'm bullshitting him. He also says he is just too embarrassed to get back together with me and have to see my family again, etc. Sounds like he's making the best out of a fucked up situation tbh. During the call, I kept calling him out whenever he would say things that were literally stringing me along, because he didn't know what I was talking about when I mentioned it. He didn't realize how much he was leading me on with the things he's saying until I very clearly pointed it out. All that stuff I texted him must've actually done something too, because it's stuck with him about disrespecting his gf.

Long story short...... I think he's actually gonna change for her if I leave him alone lol. He just gets to live with the fact that he fucked up being with me forever. Making the best of his shit situation. Tbh those antidepressants probably made a huge impact. Glad he got the help he needed. Idk man I guess he's done with me now, he seems pretty done, except for the part where he pulled his dick out again and told me he wanted to stick his dick in my mouth. But whatever.

Actually the part that hurt me the most was when he said she's been his best friend for two years like... The worst part for him was me telling him I let a guy play with my boobs over spring break and one tiny tear rolled down his cheek. Plus I ended up lying since he asked me if someone had been in our bed and I told him no because I could tell that would've really upset him. I think he would've hung up. Also couldn't tell him that yeah someone else had met the cats and pet them. I said what are you gonna do and he .... Clearly isn't going to do anything. Lame.

Longer story short: I need to stop butting in to this mess ig. Makes my stomach hurt tbh. Too much studying today made my brain go crazy. I'm really frazzled tbh. Honestly kinda pissed off all I wanted him to do was help me with the bills and now he's magically able to save $500 a week somehow. Jesus Christ wtf was he spending it on before. I'll never know. Makes me sick to my stomach actually. And it's not magic, it's what he should've been able to do all along, he just wanted to be a little bitch before.

This has stirred up a lot of emotions that I kind of hate. He can't control himself around me fucking bullshit I don't get it. So much of him sounds good but then he does something icky like that. Idk anymore. I'm tired and talking to him has actually just made things worse, not better. End of story.

[samsgayblog]

Introduction

My name isn't Sam and none of the names written here in this diary \ blog \ or whatever the fuck this is, are the actual names of the people I am talking about. This is not a work of fiction and everything written on the pages herein are true (unless otherwise stated.)

I am a 31 year old Gay man, who lives in the UK, and I am not happy. Truth be told I never have been. I don't remember a time in my life where I can say I was truly happy but I am determined to find out both what the best times in my life have been and of course the worst.

I make a living guiding people through trauma and helping them become the person they want to become. I do this and yet inside part of me feels like a fraud. Here I am guiding others who put their trust in me and yet I can't truly say 'I have my shit together.'

I call this a diary / blog, but in all honesty sat here writing this, I really don't know what this piece of work (if you can call it that) is going to be. This was not my idea! Don't get me wrong, I see the merit in blogging and keeping a diary, I have met many who have truly benefited from writing some of the most tragic times in their lives down on paper, but I am not one for doing things like this.

I have always had a quick mind, not a sharp mind as I would hardly consider myself especially intelligent, but a quick mind. I process things very quickly. I always know how I feel and why and can make well thought out decisions quickly. This has served me well not just in business and work, but also in general life. I say this not to big myself up or anything, but because in the time it would have taken me to write this sentence I would have probably over analyzed the situation (or whatever it is I'm thinking about) and writing it down or even speaking it out loud just takes so much time. Why would I waste time?

Many people will probably tell you that a big part of having truly good mental health is being able to confide in others but I've never really been one for doing that. To this day I have never shared probably 99% of what is written here with even my closest friend. Someone I have known for the majority of my life. Someone who at the age of 15  shared with me one of the most traumatic moments of their life (we will get to that later.) The reason I have never let this person in isn't actually because I don't trust them. In fact two years ago the person in question finished University and is now a qualified Psychotherapist lol. No, the reason I have never told them any of this is because they never truly asked. Our relationship (like most of my relationships it seems) was built on them going through shit and needing an outlet, someone to tell, someone to help them put themselves back together again.

I hate people! I find people boring, and yet I love to #PeopleWatch and I really need to find out what makes a person tick. Most people have something about them, something that has defined them, made them the person they are. Here in this blog I think that in some way shape or form patterns may start to emerge. Maybe I will get some insight into myself, something that I've missed. Maybe by doing this then I'll learn something. Maybe I'll find out where it all went wrong for me, or where it all went right.

There are people out there in the world that have actual problems and I believe this gives them the right to feel shitty about themselves and their situations. What have I got to be upset about? Nothing really and yet if I'm honest I still wouldn't consider myself happy.

I have struggled with the idea of over indulging in this whole #SnowFlakeGeneration and having a number of friends considerably older than myself I really do kind of get this idea that us millennials are a bunch of pansies who need to suck it up, grow up and get a job. I've been described as stoic and this is probably a philosophy I enjoy embracing. This idea of just getting on with it is described by many now to be #ToxicMasculinity and I disagree, at least in part. I think I'm fairly centurist on the subject, although I lean more towards embracing stoicism. All that being said we all have our limits, but as my friend Lou says 'the mind gives up before the body' which being a personal trainer, is a line he normally uses to tell his client in a gentle way, shut up and give a few more reps lol.

I personally think that when you need to be strong and get things done, then get on and do it but beware you need to revisit the situation later and really work through it. If you keep finding yourself in a situation or environment that hurts you on the inside or out, then just treading water isn't going to get you anywhere. If your swimming and end up getting dragged out to sea, then you can tread water for a bit and maybe even longer than others but eventually you will drown, that is unless you get rescued. Many people are treadingwater in their lives, hoping to get rescued in many ways, whether that's doing the lottery every week in the hopes that they will win enough money to give up work and tell their boss finally to fuck off, or whether it's by taking antidepressants (might have to expand on that one at some point.)

So there we go my name isn't Sam but this is my blog.

P.S. for whatever reason when I was young I apparently hated my actual name, and used to pledge with my mum to change it but she never did. In fact when she asked me what I wanted to change it too, and I told her Sam, she laughed and said 'but that's a dog's name.' For the record I'm glad she didn't let me change my name and I have no idea where the whole Sam thing came from but it is a funny idea for a pseudonym.

#introductory post #personal blog #gay blog

[artistfingers]

There’s one ~silver lining~ of my iPad being broken: I’ve had loads of time to think about my many half-formed undercover phantom au ideas! Since I have no idea when or what will make it to comic form, here’s the lowdown…. AKA, everything that’s been rattling around my brain recently :P

For context: Danny, Sam and Tucker have never met, and nobody knows Danny is Phantom. When Vlad’s newest bit of tech gets Danny stuck in ghost mode (with the rest of his powers on the fritz to boot), he meets Tucker and Sam—who instantly see through his disguise and lend a helping hand. (Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4!!)

So. After that, Danny—no, Phantom—becomes friends with them. It’s exciting! He was invisible at school even before the ghost powers; he was pretty isolated and lonely and being Phantom for the last year hasn’t exactly been a social boon. Kid’s lonely, ok?

But now… two human friends? Who’re his age & share his interests? It’s like a dream come true! If only they weren’t exclusively friends with his ghost self… and if only they didn’t wanna be so involved in his dangerous ghost hunting things…Uhhh. Hm. Could be a problem.

Danny angsts about the danger he’s putting his new friends in, and about not being able to befriend them as a human. He plays with the idea of telling them Everything but that’s… risky to say the least. He’s only known them a few weeks! ugh….!! it’s too much. maybe he should just throw the towel in.

Buuut Sam & Tucker don’t take no for an answer. Especially after they rescue him a third time.

Thus… Phantom friendship shenanigans!!

Sam filched some parts from the Fentonworks Lab when Phantom took them there, and later convinced Tucker to help her build a custom mini ectogun in case of emergency. They didn’t tell Phantom.

Danny is really sentimental about that DP hat he wore when he first met Sam & Tucker. He wore it as Phantom for a while but it got singed in a fight. He still wears it when he hangs out with Tucker & Sam but otherwise keeps it squirreled away for Sentimental Reasons.

“So Phantom, how old are you?” “I’m 15.” “15 now? Or 15 when you died?” “Yes.”

Tucker has a bunch of awful 90s button up shirts, and gives one to Phantom

They aren’t able to convince Sam to wear one too, but they sure do try.

Phantom won’t tell them when he died, so once he starts wearing 90s shirts they start using terrible 90s slang with him

“I am NOT from the 90s!!! They didn’t even SAY that then!!!” “methinks the lady doth protest too much…..home slice” “NOOO!!!”

“Phantom I have an extremely important question. Like, life or death. SHIT is on the LINE here. Are you listening?? I really need to know…. Do ghosts play video games”

The answer may surprise you (no it won’t)

Sam is completely convinced they can ACTUALLY get a good working guess of when Phantom lived and died based on the fact he liked Nasty Burger when he was alive, since NB’s a regional chain with a not-so-distant past. Tucker meanwhile thinks Phantom probably has a good reason for keeping them at arm’s length—but regardless of method, they can agree: they want to break down Phantom’s walls.

The next arc is less “Undercover Phantom” and more “Undercover Fenton” because the juxtaposition of him having to do hidden identities squared (squared again) is too good for me to pass up. It boils down to this: during a ghost attack at school, Danny finds himself stuck being “protected” by Sam and Tucker.

Sam and Tucker take their new jobs as Phantom’s ghost hunting companions too seriously to let this skinny stranger they just met run TOWARDS the danger. WHY does he keep trying to run TOWARDS the danger

NO YOU CANNOT GO TO THE BATHROOM THE SCHOOL IS ON G H O S T L O C K D O W N

Sam pulls out her ectogun.

Danny: WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!

Sam does not tell him.

“Wait, your last name’s Fenton? Like Fentonworks Fenton?” “No, the other Fenton.” “Oh… well, that’s too bad…” “YES LIKE FENTONWORKS FENTON”

Sam is initially wary of Danny because of his parents’ super strong anti-ecto views. Danny is clueless as to why she isn’t very friendly to him-as-a-human when she’s great with him-as-a-ghost. but she warms up after he helps resolve the ghost issue in a way that shows he doesn’t subscribe to his parents’ views.

afterwards you get this excellent situation where Danny is now friends with Sam and Tucker as Phantom and as Fenton, and they’re not connecting the dots as quickly as they did when it was just “that’s Phantom wearing a hoodie and a cap with his own logo on it”.

the potential here? *chefs kiss* here’s a few things but honestly? the possibilities are limitless

Danny pretending to not have a cell phone because he already gave them his number as Phantom

Tucker: *dials Phantom*

Danny, standing directly next to him: *frantically attempting to silence his phone*

Sam & Tucker try to introduce Danny and Phantom. Danny has to make excuses to avoid this happening in both forms.

Danny takes Sam & Tucker down to the Fentonworks Lab to get them some real equipment. Sam & Tucker pretend (very badly) that they’ve never been there before

Rooftop chill sessions as Phantom, late night teenage hijinks as Fenton, plus school AND fighting ghosts does not do any favors for Danny’s sleep deprivation. Tucker introduces him to caffeine pills with… mixed results.

Tucker and Sam teach Phantom some sign language. Later Danny slips up and uses it casually with them as Fenton

…. And many other silly mixups that I’ve yet to think of because I live for that shit

Sam & Tucker have theories about the Fenton-Phantom connection and they’re all wrong but somehow also plausible and that freaks Danny out just a little bit if he ever overhears them

Ultimately, I see this AU having a final arc where a New Situation occurs in which Danny-as-Phantom has to—once again—pretend to be human. This time, he’s with Sam & Tucker as Phantom from the get go, and can’t disappear or transform, even if being Phantom is extremely dangerous at that moment. Somehow this scenario would lead to the Fenton-is-Phantom (or, in this case, Phantom-is-Fenton) reveal…. But the details still escape me :P

so in short………… I really like hidden identities

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #undercover phantom au #no one knows au #DP #WHY is this 1000 words long IM SO SORRY #PS if you are reading these tags and you left tags on any of the comics so far with your own ideas for this au THANK YOU I LOVE YOU #PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE feel free to add on ideas to this au any way youd like 🙏 #it is just a big ol hidden identities sandbox with also lots of teenages hijinks #im hoping to have my ipad fixed by wednesday-ish so more comics........ eventually :"D #in the meantime please enjoy this long text post and maybe some sketchbook things #if i can work up the nerve to post something straight out of the sketchbook lmfao #long post #fic #art writes

[sour--disposition]

Bad Girlfriend

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harry lewis x fem!reader

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@ketamineharry suggested a harry imagine based off of Anne-Marie’s Bad Girlfriend and voila

please check my pinned post for request/prompt info and my masterlist

You cancel plans for me - I cancel ours on you - Say I'd be back early - I don't get in 'til 2 - You ask me where I've been - I tell you something vague - Think I messed up again - What can I say

You were sick and tired of Harry and his behaviour. When you first got together, you chalked his actions up to being young and dumb. And then to getting used to having more money. Then you blamed it on having to deal with so much at such a young age. 

The excuses piled up, one on top of the other. You knew one day it would all come toppling down around you, drowning you and Harry in a sea of problems that you doubted you’d be able to survive. You’d excused cheating, been by his side during hangovers from hell and comedowns that took too long to make Harry realise that the high really wasn’t worth the pain. You’d rubbed his back and handed him bottles of water and paracetamol and nursed him back to health, only for him to go and get in the same state the next weekend and expect you to help him gather the pieces back together again.

You’d tried to patch things up. Every time that you went to Harry to air all your concerns, tell him that if he doesn’t get his act together that you’d leave, and he always promised that things would be better this time. But something would always happen. There’d be plans he’d forget or cancel. He’d get too drunk and end up with hands over another girl’s body. 

“Ooh, you look nice”, Harry commented as soon as you answered his FaceTime call. “What are you doing?”, he asked you.

“I’m off out with some girls from uni tonight”, you told him as you stood up from the sofa and started gathering your things together.

“I thought you were coming over?”, he said, a small pout forming on his lips.

“Sorry”, you said nonchalantly. “I’ll make it up to you, yeah”, you told him half-heartedly.

“Yeah, whatever”, Harry huffed. “Come back here after?”, he suggested.

“Sure”, you said, a small smile on your lips. “I’ve gotta go, their taxi just pulled up. Love you”, you rushed out, hanging up and shoving your phone into your clutch, along with your keys, card and some cash.

Harry 💕: where are you it’s 11?

Harry💕: y/n c’mon i miss you

Harry💕: am i waiting up for you or not?

Harry💕: its 2am

You didn’t read the texts until you were swaying on the spot in the lift of Harry’s apartment building. Your vision was fuzzy as you tried to find the right key for their front door. “Y/N?”, Harry asked, opening the door.

“Hey”, you slurred, stumbling towards him. “I couldn’t see your key”, you told him.

“Where’ve you even been?”, Harry asked, voice dripping with distaste and disappointment.

“Here, there, everywhere”, you giggled. 

“Come on, go to bed”, Harry said sternly. “I have a shoot tomorrow and Josh will kill me if I’m late or lacking”, he told you.

“Oh, I am so very sorry”, you drawled, exaggerating all of your words, much to your own amusement.

“I’m not being funny, Y/N. Go to bed or go home”, Harry said sharply.

Your face dropped, the small square inch of your brain that was yet to be drenched in vodka and whatever else you’d been drinking lit up with anger. “Fine”, you snapped. You stormed down the hallway, sure of your footing this time and not stumbling once.

“Where are you going?”, Harry called after you.

“Home!”, you shouted, wrenching the front door open and slamming it behind you as hard as you could.

You shivered in the cold, late night wind of London as you waited on the curbside for your taxi. As soon as the car pulled up, you slid into the backseat and rattled off your address. The street lights and neon signs of London passed by in a blur of alcohol and anger and regret. “Thanks. Keep the change”, you muttered, handing a note over to the driver and getting out of the taxi.

Once you’d got back into your apartment, you changed into some pyjamas and took your make-up off as quickly as possible. You crawled under the covers, pulling them around your body and getting comfy in the middle of your bed. 

Part of you felt a little guilty for how you’d treated Harry, but a bigger part of you couldn’t find the effort to care. You’d put up with Harry acting like this for 6 years, he could tolerate you doing it once or twice.

-

You wanna meet my friends - I say another day

“Another day, Harry”, you sighed, heavily, turning back to the work you were trying to get done for your classes.

“You always say that. You’ve been on this course for, like, a year”, Harry whined.

“I know but I really need to focus on work at the moment, Harry”, you told him. “I started my degree later than I wanted to anyway and then I didn’t commit to it like I should have last year because of…”, you trailed off.  “Another day”.

“Because of what?”, Harry asked, voice taking a combative edge as he sat up straighter.

“Harry, I don’t want to get into this again”, you sighed heavily, slumping into your chair.

“Well, you started it!”, he argued. “So finish your sentence. Go on!”, he goaded.

“I couldn’t commit to my degree because I was too busy looking after you!”, you shouted. “Is that what you wanted? Me to lash out? Fucking well done”, you spat. You gathered up your things as quick as you could, closing your book and shoving things into your bag.

“Where are you going now?”, Harry asked frustratedly.

“Home. I have an essay to do for next week”, you muttered as you shoved past Harry.

Things between you and Harry were only getting worse. You knew about the other girls, but the both of you just pretended that you didn’t. All of his friends saw Harry as some sheepish kid with a loud mouth girlfriend, but they never got to see the Harry that you were seeing more and more. The Harry that held things from years ago against you, the Harry that was becoming more controlling by the day, the Harry that would raise his voice when things went even slightly not his way… The Harry that wasn’t the same Harry that you fell in love with.

-

'Cause I'm one in a million - More like in a billion - I don't think it's cheating if I'm kissing other women - I do some shit you can't forgive - And you better get used to it

The more you and Harry argued, the more his friends didn’t like you. They hid it well, especially Simon and Josh since you were such good friends with Talia and Freya. But you noticed the side glances you’d get anytime you laughed a little louder than usual, any time you’d say something that would make Talia or Freya cackle. You’d notice the looks that they would send Harry when you had the audacity to go and dance and your own, or when you’d be on your phone whilst everyone else was fighting to keep you out of the conversation.

You had no doubt in your mind that Harry was telling them bare-faced lies about you and hiding the truth about himself. You knew that they had no clue about Harry’s cheating, about how bad his drinking and substance abuse had truly been, how much he actually relied on you for day to day functioning. All they knew was that you were loud, argumentative and didn't give Harry the time of day when it came to uni work.

“Do you think she knows she’s punching?”, you heard Ethan ask JJ.

“I mean, it’s so obvious. Harry’s miles out of her league. C’mon man!”, JJ laughed in reply.

You looked to Harry to see his reaction. You knew he’d heard what was said, but based on the look on his face, he couldn’t care less. You didn’t need the validation from your boyfriend’s best friends, but it would be nice if your boyfriend would at least defend you or reassure you.

You rolled your eyes and turned to leave the table, heading towards the toilets. You were facing the mirror, touching up your hair and make-up, when Freya and Talia walked in. “What happened?”, Talia asked.

You told them what you’d heard and watched as their faces contorted into looks of horror. “Oh my god!”, Freya exclaimed. “What did Harry say!?”, she asked, coming closer to hold you hand supportively.

Your silence answered their question perfectly. “I can’t believe him”, Talia huffed, wrapping her arms around you.

“Things haven’t been great, but I never thought he’d just sit and let his best friends slag me off practically to my face”, you told them. Your eyes were watery.

“Hey, babe. Don’t let your mascara run”, a dark haired girl told you, handing you a tissue. “Whoever is letting someone slag you off is stupid”, she assured you.

“My boyfriend”, you said sadly. 

“I hate boys”, she laughed darkly, rolling her eyes, before rejoining her group of friends.

You, Talia and Freya emerged from the toilets around 5 minutes later, once you were sure that your tears had dried and weren’t going to restart. The three of you walked towards the table, Freya and Talia immediately sliding next to Josh and Simon.

“Where’s Harry?”, you asked, not seeing him anywhere. Ethan gave you a look and pointed towards the dancefloor before turning back to his conversation with JJ and Vik.

You glanced over towards the dancefloor, hoping you’d see Harry. Thankfully, he was towards the edge, back turned towards you. You watched as he turned around, ready to try and grab his attention. His eyes met yours, briefly filling with panic, before darting back down to the girl in his arms.

“Fuck this”, you muttered, as Harry’s friends and Freya and Talia all watched as he tried to assess the situation and what to do.

He watched as you walked closer, looking ready to send the stranger away. Harry’s eyes followed you as you sailed past him and towards the middle of the dance floor. You could feel eyes on you as you began dancing to the music, letting the beat mix with the alcohol and take over your body.

“Did you sort things with your boyfriend?”, a female voice asked. It was the girl from the bathroom. You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully at her.

“No”, you snorted. “I came to speak to him and he was all over another girl”, you told her. Your eyes darted over to where you’d last seen Harry. “That’s him there, sucking face with the blonde”.

“I hope he’s your ex-boyfriend now”, she told you, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s complicated”, you admitted, looking down in shame. It wasn’t news to you that you were letting Harry treat you like a doormat, but you had yet to muster up the courage to leave him. Just as you looked up, ready to offer to explain it over a drink, someone behind you shoved you, sending you catapulting into the girl’s arms.

“Careful there, can’t have you falling for me already. I’ve not even started flirting yet”, she told you with a smirk. “Martha”, she said politely, holding out a hand.

“Y/N”, you told her with a shy smile as you accepted her outstretched hand.

“Care for a dance?”, Martha asked you, pulling you closer with the hand that was still in hers.

You didn’t care if Harry and his friends watched as your bodies rolled together. Harry had never danced with you on a night out like this, never held you shamelessly in a club for everyone to see. Harry had never held your face so securely as he pulled you in for a kiss in front of everyone around you.

“What the fuck, Y/N?”, you heard beside you.

“Is this the boyfriend?”, Martha asked once she’d pulled back and let her eyes flutter open, eyeing Ethan up and down as soon as she had.

“The boyfriend’s best friend”, you told her, preparing to step out of her hold.

“Last time I checked, the boyfriend was preoccupied with someone else. Get him to come and find me when he wants his girlfriend. We’ll be right here”, she said, voice powerful and allowing no argument as her arms held you closer.

Harry never came to find you. The two of you left the club in separate taxis and you left with a new number saved in your phone.

-

You should be with someone else - Someone who is not myself

“Harry, you deserve so much better”, you heard a voice say as you walked into Harry’s apartment. You walked down the hallway quietly, lingering just behind the door frame to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“We’ve been together for so long, though”, Harry sighed.

“Did you not see what she did the other night? She was all over some other chick!”, a voice, Simon’s, exclaimed.

“Maybe it was just a mistake, y’know”, Harry tried to reason.

“She’s not good for you, Harry”, JJ, this time, said.

You’d heard enough. You turned the corner, coming face to face with all 7 of the boys. “Y/N…”, Harry trailed off.

“No, no. Carry on talking about me, it’s fine”, you said, voice lathered in artificial sweetness.

“Damnit, Y/N, it wasn’t like that”, Harry snapped, surprising everyone but you. “What are you doing?”, he asked as you started gathering a blanket off of the back of the sofa and plucking a hoodie off of the back of a dining room chair..

“Getting my shit and going”, you hissed.

“You’re being dramatic”, Harry scolded.

“No, Harry. I’ve put up with your bullshit since we were 18. I’m sick and tired of it. I’ve put my life on hold for long enough. You need someone, but I’m not that someone anymore. I’m sick of looking after you and letting your friends hate me just because you’re too much of a coward to tell them the truth”, you spat.

“We know everything, Y/N”, Ethan said smugly, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

“So you know that I started my degree late because I had to get Harry sober? You know that he’s cheated on me more times than I can count? You know that I’ve tried for 6 fucking years to get him to love me as much as I love him and it’s never fucking worked!?”, you all but yelled, shocking everyone in front of you.

“You think I don’t love you?”, Harry asked, voice frustrated and angry.

“I know that you don’t love me as much as I love you”, you told him simply. “You cancelled 3 anniversary dates to go on nights out with the guys. You made me cancel a weekend away because you wanted to go to Dubai. You get annoyed when I try to do my uni work. You let Ethan and JJ slag me off, practically to my face, and didn’t say a fucking word”, you told him.

You looked at Harry, waiting for a reaction. “Do you know how heartbreaking it is to hear my boyfriend’s best friends, people I’ve known for 6 years, say that I’m punching and that you deserve better? Did you think about how much it hurt me when you didn’t even flinch at what they said?”.

Harry’s face lit up in anger. “It’s not like you’ve been a good girlfriend!”, he spat.

“Because being a good girlfriend to you is like a full time job. It’s a full time job and I haven’t had a day off in over 5 years. So yeah, I’ve been a bad girlfriend… Boo fucking hoo”, you grumbled.

Harry remained silent, a sheepish look crossing his face. “We can try again”, he suggested quietly.

“We have! Over and over again!”, you exclaimed, tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m exhausted, Harry. I’m tired of looking after you when I’m just as hungover as you. I’m tired of not making plans because I literally can not afford for you to cancel on me anymore. You don’t value me or anything that I do. Your friends hate me and you don’t care. I’ve been your last priority for years and I’m sick of it. We’re done. I’ll put your stuff in a box and bring it round”, you told him, voice losing more and more strength as you spoke.

“Y/N…”, Harry tried, reaching for your arm.

“Don’t”.

#harry lewis #w2s #wroetoshaw #harry lewis imagine #harry lewis x reader #harry lewis oneshot #w2s imagine #w2s oneshot #w2s x reader #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw oneshot #sidemen #sidemen imagine #sidemen oneshot #sidemen x reader #song imagine #lyric imagine #uk youtube #uk youtube imagine

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

#wayv ten #ten imagines #wayv smut #ten scenarios #ten x reader #ten smut #nct scenarios #ten oneshot #wayv imagines #woc reader #wayv ten imagines #ten lee #wayv au #nct au

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 5: The Battle

Prev

AO3

“Absolutely not.” Jason says, crossing his arms, an offended look on his face. 

“Please!” Marinette begs, doing her best to show her anxiety without having to spell it out in front of Adrien. Although they’d only known Jason for a month, he was really good at reading their facial expressions and body language to see when they were upset. Marinette needed Jason to see that now. She needed him to take a Miraculous. He may work in security and have a bunch of battle training, but they’d still be going up against someone with magic. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate to hurt all of them to get what he wants. 

“Come on Jay, it’s just a bracelet.” Adrien says, his shoulders tense. Marinette takes in a deep breath, frantically shoving her panic deep down where hopefully it’ll stay until after the battle. 

“It’s not that it’s a bracelet, kid. It’s that I don’t need it.” Jason argues, much as he had for the past ten minutes. 

“If not for yourself, do it for them.” Wayzz says, speaking up for the first time. Jason shoots a weary glance at the kwami and quirks an eyebrow. 

“What d’ya mean?” He asks. 

“The Guardian wishes for you to use my Miraculous. I am the kwami of protection. When my wielder says ‘shelter’, they are able to cast a shield around both themselves and anyone nearby that they wish to protect. If you follow Ladybug and Chat Noir into battle with my Miraculous, you will be better equipped to help them in an emergency. That is, you wouldn’t have to choose who to save.” Wayzz explains. Marinette raises an eye at the last part of his rant, but it seems to solidify something with Jason. 

“Fine. Gimme the damn bracelet.” He grumbles, and even though he’s acting annoyed, Marinette can see the hint of relief in his eyes. So he was worried about being able to protect them. Marinette blinks for a moment. Even though he’d only know them for a month, he still seemed to care more than Master Fu did. Nothing against the man, he did the best he could but….it wasn’t enough. And that was painfully obvious the more time they spent training with Jason. 

“Jason- I just realized I don’t know your last name.” Marinette says, pouting slightly before shaking her head. “Whatever, Jason Dupain Cheng, Adrien don’t you start. You and I both know that you hate your last name so it just makes sense that we all take my name. Now shut your damn mouth so I can do this!” 

“Me-ouch.” Adrien mumbles, crossing his arms as he pouts. Jason snickers, but stops immediately when Marinette turns her glare to him. She smiles and nods, clearing her throat before starting her speech again. 

“Jason Dupain Cheng, this is the Miraculous of Protection. I am granting you this Miraculous to use in the battle with Hawkmoth. Once the battle is complete, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?” Marinette finishes her speech with a small smile, one that instantly drops when she sees Jason snort. 

“I’m sorry Pix, but it’s weird to see you so serious.” Jason apologizes with a snicker. 

“I’m serious!” Marinette argues, tugging the box back away from Jason. “In fact, I’m so serious that now I’m taking it back. No bracelet of protection for you, ya meanie.” She adds.

“Isn’t that exactly what he wanted to begin with?” Adrien asks, making Marinette pause in her tug of war. Huffing, she shoves the box back at Jason. 

“Just put it on.” She grumbles, pouting when he snorts. 

“Whatever you say, boss.” He says, sliding the bracelet onto his wrist. Wayzz looks between the two, the Kwami’s face almost amused. 

“Hello.” Wayzz says, nodding as he bows at Jason. Jason just awkwardly waves. 

“Hey.” He says, his easy smile falling. Marinette starts to ask him if he’s okay, when she realizes. He’s worried. Of course he is. Now that he has the Miraculous, it’s time. They were going tonight to take Hawkmoth-Gabriel’s- Miraculous. This would all end tonight. One way or another. This was ending. 

---

This was ending. Soon. Gabriel is sure of that. It would not be ending in Ladybug’s favor though. On the contrary. Gabriel was certain that the insignificant bug wouldn’t make it past this final battle. The idea of Chat Noir facing the same fate made him falter slightly, if only for that small amount of time where he thought his own son held the ring. Although he no longer thought that, the idea of killing him was out of the question. Hurting him, though, that was perfectly acceptable. Especially if it meant he hurt that pest in the process. Finding a spell in the small bit of Grimoire he held, a spell powerful enough to penetrate the Miraculous suits, was not easy. The Grimoire wasn’t easy to read and was mostly filled with healing magic. But that wouldn’t help him. Not at all. Not like this would. Grinning down at his cane that now held a wicked glow, Gabriel-Hawkmoth- grinned. This will end soon. 

---

Taking in a deep breath, Marinette tries hard to ignore the dread settling in her stomach. Something is going to go wrong, she can feel it. And yet, it feels like it has to be tonight. That if they wait for another night, another day, they won’t have any chance to win at all. She had told both Adrien and Jason about the feeling, and both had encouraged her to do what she thought was best. They trusted her. And she was terrified that that would end up getting one, or both, of them hurt. Shaking out her hands to try and calm the energy bubbling up inside her, she watches Adrien’s window carefully. She had wanted the three to go in together, but Adrien had pointed out that he lived there. He could just open his window for the other two, allowing their entrance to be almost undetectable. Marinette hated it, hated feeling like she was using Adrien’s situation to their advantage, until Jason pointed out that- in the end- it was helping Adrien. Seeing the flashlight flicker- the sign that the coast was clear- Marinette swings over the fence and smoothly into Adrien’s room with Jason following closely behind. 

“Hey kitty.” She says softly, squeezing Adrien’s hand in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Hey bug.” He says softly, squeezing back. Jason hangs back, keeping an eye on the door while the two take a moment to gather themselves. This could be it. The end of a battle they’d been fighting since they were barely teenagers. Over three years of their lives was dedicated to protecting Paris, and that could be ending soon. Taking in a steadying breath, Marinette lets go of Adrien’s hand. 

“I brought Kaalki, like we discussed. They should be in your father’s office right now, looking for any incriminating evidence. If they find anything, they’re supposed to come get us so that we can go check it out ourselves.” She says their plan going as planned so far. A few minutes pass before Kaalki comes charging in, a disturbed look on the Kwami’s usually cheery face. 

“I found Hawkmoth’s lair.” They say, in lieu of a greeting. 

“Well shit. That’s the confirmation we need.” Jason whistles lowly, filled with a tension that wasn’t there before. 

“I kinda figured. I didn’t really have any hope left that it wasn’t him. So how do we get in there?” Adrien asks, setting his face with a determined look. 

“We use a portal. It’d be the easiest way of making sure Hawkmoth doesn’t hear us coming.” Marinette says, sliding the glasses onto her face and calling for the unified transformation. 

“Are you two sure about this? I could go in alone. I’m sure I could take him by myself.” Jason offers, his jaw obviously clenched. Marinette glances at Adrien, who nods, before turning back to Jason. 

“This is our fight, Jay. And as much as we appreciate your help, we have to be there too.” She says with a grim smile. Jason huffs, but nods. 

“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that. Let’s get this shit over with. I’m ready to go angrily punch a punching bag without being scared that I’ll wake up holding your Miraculous.” Jason says, making Marinette flinch slightly. She felt awful that Jason, like many Parisians, felt like they weren’t allowed to feel negative emotions. She knew how draining that was, how hard it was at the end of the day. And even past that, because you couldn’t even have negative emotions while you slept. But Jason was right. It’s time to end this, time to end the emotional trauma, time to end having to suppress feelings just to get by. 

“Voyage!” Marinette calls, silently stepping through the portal with Jason and Adrien close behind her. Silently calling off Kaalki’s transformation, she moves the horse Miraculous into her yoyo as she glances around the room. Butterflies, everywhere, an odd glowing and-

“Ah, Ladybug and Chat Noir. How kind of you to make a personal visit to deliver your Miraculous.” Hawkmoth taunts, twirling his cane around. Marinette’s eyes narrow as she looks at the cane and the very obvious blade sticking out of the bottom of it. 

“We’re actually here to ask for your Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Yours and Mayura’s. We know who you are, Gabriel Agreste. Give up now.” Marinette demands, her posture tense as she refrains from standing in a fighting position, instead situating herself so that she’s standing in front of her brothers. 

“I think you’ll find me to be someone unwilling to negotiate, Ladybug.” Hawkmoth sneers before lunging towards her with his cane. Tossing her yoyo at him, she manages to knock his cane out of his hand, causing him to rush after it. He picks it up and whirls around, a wrathful look on his face as he charges towards her once again. Their fight doesn’t last long before Mayura is suddenly there, a sentimonster at her side. Resisting the urge to curse out Nathalie, Marinette pours all of her focus into the battle. Between her own hits aimed at the sentimonster and dodging the neverending attacks aimed at her by Hawkmoth, it’s getting exhausting. But with Mayura and her sentimonster still active, it’s too soon to call any of their powers. Momentarily distracted by Jason taking out the sentimonster, Marinette doesn’t see Hawkmoth’s blade coming at her throat. But Adrien does. Being shoved harshly out of the way, Marinette stumbles slightly before glancing back at her partner. And letting out a horrified scream. A scream that’s drowned out by Adrien’s own agony filled scream. Because Adrien took the hit meant for her. And now Adrien Agreste was lying on the ground, sobbing, his eyes clenched shut. Why was he Adrien? Why was he in his clothes? Why is there so. much. blood. Falling to her knees, Marinette tries desperately to stop the bleeding. Ripping Adrien’s jacket off, she attempts to tie a tourniquet, barely able to hear Tikki’s voice in the back of her head. Cast the cure. Of course, the cure. The cure. Tossing up her yoyo, she attempts to cast the cure, screaming in frustration when the ladybugs only stop the bleeding. Marinette jumps up, glaring furiously at Hawkmoth who had frozen, a stricken look on his face. 

“You!” She screams, attempting to lunge towards him to kill him. Hurt him. Torture him and make him scream like Adrien currently was. Only to be stopped. Turning her head to glare at Jason, she realizes that he’s also frozen in place, cursing up a storm as he seems to fight his own body. 

“You son of a bitch!” He roars, his entire body tense as he fights against invisible binds. 

“Let me go, Tikki! Let me go!” Marinette screams, sobbing as she desperately tries to move, to do something. Kill the man and take his Miraculous. Because that’s what he deserves for hurting her partner. Her best friend. Her brother.

“Drop the transformation, goddamnit! The bastard deserves it! Fuck you, Gabriel Agreste!” Jason screams, obviously unable to remember the words for him to drop the transformation. Marinette has no such qualms. Opening her mouth to say the words, she sobs in frustration when she realizes Tikki has now blocked her from speaking. He deserves it! She thinks furiously, trying to get Tikki to agree to it. Wanting nothing more than to hurt this man, and hurt him good. There is no satisfaction when Gabriel takes both his and Nathalie’s Miraculous and sets them in front of her before backing off and sitting on the ground. There’s only anger as he tries to sit next to Adrien, who has since passed out from the shock, only to be scared off by a hissing Plagg. Staring at Adrien’s tear stricken face, contorted in pain even in sleep, and his- his arm, she realizes with a wave of nausea, that’s his arm lying next to him. She feels every single muscle tense as she continues to fight to break free. To beat the shit out of Gabriel Agreste. Even as her thoughts start to betray her. Even as she realizes….This was all her fault. 

Next

---

Tag List (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #platonic maribat adrienette #This Side of Normal

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Tear in the Fabric

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, fingering, oral, binding.

This is dark!Steve Rogers and dark!Clark Kent and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Universes collided as a malfunction brings an unexpected visitor.

Note: This is my first DC/Superman fic and a rare crossover fic. I really hope y’all like it but tbh it’s filth.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your office shook. Rather, quaked. The glass vase in the corner broke on the table and a flash rippled through the air. You clung to your desk to keep from falling out of your chair. You waited a moment as an eerie lull followed. Then voices and rushed footsteps followed.

You got up and followed the several other bodies towards the labs. You were of the dozen or so people permitted beyond the doors and you slipped past the rest of the confused employees of Stark Tower. Natasha met you at the door and you both peered inside, the door at your feet.

Peter was in a heap, another body beside his. He groaned as he rolled over beside the other man and screamed as he faced him. He scrambled away and pushed himself against the wall. Nat grabbed your arm and you looked at each other. The man on the floor was unfamiliar and peculiarly dressed. He fell flat on his back and his eyes opened.

“Parker, what did you do?” Tony pushed between you and Nat as he strode in. His hair was askew as he straightened his tie.

The dark-haired stranger sat up and was on his feet so quick, Tony and Peter flinched. Nat stepped inside, ready to fight, and you lingered by the door. He was tall, broad, and he wore dark blue gear with a red cape slung from his shoulders. His blue eyes flashed as he spun in bewilderment. His hands were fist, as ready as Nat for conflict.

“I was just-- I--”

“Who are you people?” The man asked. “Where am I?”

“Calm down, Schwarzenegger,” Tony raised his hands. “We’re all friends here… and we’re wondering the same about you.”

“I’m…” The man’s eyes bounced from person to person. “...Superman?”

“Are you asking me?” Tony scoffed and brushed past him. “Kid, what did you?”

“I was just… looking at the particles--”

“Looking?! And maybe some touching?” Tony shouted. “I told you they’re not toys.”

“I know. I was just-- I figured something out and--”

“Broke every window on the floor!” Tony interjected. “And zapped in Adonis 3000 over here for good measure.”

“Um,” The dark-haired man looked around. “Can someone please tell me where I am?”

“New York. Stark Tower.” Tony hissed over his shoulder as he stormed towards Peter.

You glanced over as you heard footsteps echo behind you. Steve, Bucky, and Sam were nearly tripping over each other and skidded to a halt in the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“We’re still trying to figure that out,” You kept your voice down. “Peter--”

“Peter, of course,” Bucky huffed as he crossed his arms.

“Who’s the muscle man?” Sam nodded to the stranger as he stared with consternation at one of Tony’s contraptions.

“Good question,” You passed through the door and Steve caught your arm. 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well, since Tony can only manage to yell at the kid, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“He could be dangerous,” Steve said quietly.

“And I’ve got the most dangerous heroes all around me.” You brushed his hand from your arm. “I think if he meant to do something, he’d already have.”

The man seemed even bigger the closer you got. As you neared, you recalled you were the only one in the room without combat training, a special suit, or enhanced abilities. You were just the one who did the paperwork to clean up after all the rest. You cleared your throat.

“Um, hello,” You tried to smile and the man turned to you, blue eyes blazing. “That’s a, uh, nice cape. Were you by chance at a costume party or--”

“I’m Superman.” He repeated, this time firmer. He looked at you as if you were dumb.

“Yes, okay, well you are at Stark Tower… in New York? Where are you from?”

“Metropolis,” He spoke again with the same obvious tone. “Stark Tower? Never heard of it.”

“Tony Stark?” You blinked. “He runs Stark Industries.”

“Ah, like Wayne Industries,” He said. “Maybe he knows Bruce.”

“Wayne Industries?” You wondered. “What’s--”

“In Gotham City. Bruce Wayne; the world’s most infamous playboy?” He said with venom.

“Actually that’s my title,” Tony turned as he finally quit berating Peter. “Never heard of this Wayne guy.” 

The man scowled and turned to Tony. “Well, you sound like him.’

“I hate to break it to you, beefcake, but you’re a long way from home.” Tony crossed his arms. “Without precise data, I’d surmise a few thousand dimensions away.”

“Dimensions? That’s--”

“Look, I could go into the science of it but I think that might be a bit over your head. To put it simply, we have these magical little particles that can affect the fabric of space and time. Maybe throw us back a few years here or there but it seems my… protege here decided to go sideways instead of backwards or forwards.” Tony explained. “What I’m trying to say is that whoever you are, Capeman or whatever, well, this isn’t the world you’re used to saving.”

“But you ended up in the right place,” Nat intoned. “Seems we have the same interests in mind.”

“Keeping people safe,” Steve added. “Right?”

“Of course,” The caped stranger spun around. “Forgive me if this isn’t a bit… unbelievable.”

“Buddy, I wish I could say it was just a dream,” Tony sighed. “Or a nightmare. However you wanna see it. The good news is, if I can get the kid to do exactly what he just did, we might be able to send you back.”

“Well, um, Mr. Stark…” Peter piped up from behind him. “I kinda… well, the stabilizer isn’t… working anymore.”

“Someone get the kid out of here,” Tony pinched his nose. “Please. I can’t look at him. I’m going to close my eyes and count to ten and he better be gone.”

“What does that mean?” The strange man asked. “Stabilizer?”

“It means,” Tony ignored Peter as he was ushered out by Natasha. “That you’re stuck here for a while… hopefully not forever.”

“Stuck?”

“Don’t worry. We’re not gonna toss you out on the street to terrorize the public.” Tony assured. “We’re just going to--”

The man raised his index finger and touched his temple as he hushed everyone. His forehead wrinkled as he listened and his hand formed a fist. He was suddenly gone as he darted out in a blur of blue and red; a speeding, flying blur.

You looked around as Tony stood with his mouth open and the three men around the door grimaced. Steve frowned and turned to rush out after him. You followed but barely reached the end of the hall, where others watched from the other side of the clear walls. The lot of you were stopped by the reappearance of the man in a furious gust.

“What the hell was that about?” Stark snorted as he caught up.

“Robbery. Ten blocks down. Suspect subdued, waiting for police.” The man confirmed with an arched brow.

“Tony,” Sam turned to look at his boss. 

Tony nodded begrudgingly.

“So, Superman, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind cooling it while we try to figure out how to get you back home?”

“Cooling it?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t stop you from saving this world,” Tony chuckled. “Just… try to loosen up.”

“Mmm,” The man grumbled. “I’ll try.”

Tony winked at you and beckoned to the three other men. You knew that look; ‘take care of it’. Bucky and Sam crossed to Tony and Steve squinted at you before reluctantly following. You turned back to the stranger who called himself Superman and held out your hand and introduced yourself.

“Guess it doesn’t matter so much if you know my name,” He took your hand in his large one. “Clark. Clark Kent. Reporter.”

“Oh,” You smiled. “I always wondered what it’d be like to be a reporter.”

“Boring, most days,” He shrugged. “What do I do now?”

“Well, it’s kinda my job to get you situated.” You turned halfway between him and the other men. “Tony is the one you were talking to, the blond is Steve, the one in the middle is Bucky, and then you have Sam. Natasha was the one who took the kid, Peter out. And there’s a few more back at the compound.”

“Compound?” He wondered.

“Most of the Avengers live there. For response purposes, in case of emergency, they need to be able to mobilise,” You explained.

“You’re not an… Avenger?” He asked.

“I’m… a glorified babysitter and some would call me little more than a secretary,” You shook your head. “But no, not one of them.”

“Hmm,” He lowered his chin and thought. You peeked over at the others and Steve’s gaze met yours before it strayed to the large man across from you. “Well, where do we begin?”

“I’ll have to figure that out,” You replied. “Just this way.”

💥

One week. One week and it was a shit show. Tony still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the stabilizer, even with Banner’s help, and Peter was in virtual exile. You were left to watch over your visitor and the rest of the lot. For the most part, they were friendly but wary. All except one who seemed entirely suspicious of the man in the red cape.

The very one sat across from you. Steve stared at the tablet as you went through his last mission report and the numbers attached to the collateral. You hated it but Tony demanded it and you knew it wasn’t for his own needs. He had government agencies and the military breathing down his neck every day.

You leaned on your elbow as you went through your usual schtick, scribbling down Steve’s explanation and aligning them with the events noted in the report. You were roused by the knock that killed the drone of Steve’s voice. Your door opened and you smiled at Clark as he peered through shyly.

“Sorry, to interrupt. I guess I’m early. I’ll just wait out here.”

“It’s fine. We’re almost done,” You replied. “It’ll be about five minutes.”

“Thanks,” He backed up and shut the door.

You looked at Steve as he crossed his arms and frowned.

“Why’s he here?”

“Tony’s thinking about giving him missions. He’s going to be given access to training rooms and I told him I’d show him around the Tower.” You explained. “Anyways, the factory--”

“Oh? You and him… you his chaperone now?”

“As much as I am yours,” You half-sang. “Steve, let’s just get this done with.”

“We don’t know him. We don’t know if he is who he says he is.”

“I think we would know by now.” You countered.

“Wherever he’s from, how do we know he’s a good guy there?”

“How does he know we’re the good guys?” You returned. “Steve, come on. He’s… nice.”

“To you,” Steve said pointedly.

“And you?” You wondered.

Steve shrugged. He tapped his fingers on his leg and huffed.

“A car was diverted through the factory wall so that I could keep a civilian from getting hit instead. I did my best to aim it away from the building but was able to prevent casualties.” Steve recited. “Human life is worth more than concrete.”

“Mmhmm,” You stared at him a moment before you wrote down his explanation. “Alright, then, I guess we’re done.”

“I can show him around,” Steve stood. “If you want. You must be busy.”

“I need to register him in the system--”

“So do it. I’ll give him the tour.” Steve insisted. “I’ll give him a chance.”

“You sure?” You asked. 

“Eh, we could use a fourth on poker night,” Steve said. “And you can catch up on work.”

“Deal.” You closed the folder and slid the tablet aside. “You’ll see, Steve. He’s a good guy.”

Steve pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’m sure.” He neared the door and grabbed the handle. “If you say so.”

💥

You strode through the halls of the Tower on your way to drop off your weekly rundown to Tony. Your eye was caught as you passed by the transparent wall of the Tower gym. At the compound, there were several but a few people used that at the Tower when they had business on site. You stopped and turned to find Clark waving at you through the plexiglass

You let yourself in and crossed to him as he sat on the weight bench. His thick muscles peeked out from beneath his grey tank as he smiled up at you.

“I haven’t seen you much lately,” He greeted.

“Yeah, lots of work,” You waved the folder in your hand. “How’s life in the compound?”

“Different. Still.” He said. “Tony says it should be much longer.”

“You miss home?” You asked.

“Well… sometimes. A lot happened before I ended up here that makes me think, well, maybe I’m better off.”

“I’m sorry,” You said. “I didn’t mean to--”

“No, it’s… nice to have someone actually ask me how I’m doing.” He stood and went to the bar, carefully unscrewing the large weights. “Everyone here is nice, I guess, but… you’re nicer.”

“Heh, well, that’s half my job,” You chimed. “Smiling in the face of adversity.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at that,” He laughed and you both looked over as the door opened. “Not at all.”

“Hey, Steve,” You called to the new arrival.

“Hey,” He was evasive as he went to another machine.

“Case and point,” Clark placed the weights on the rack one at a time as he spoke.

“What?” You looked over at Steve again then back to Clark. “I thought-- didn’t he show you around the other day?”

“Oh yes, he did,” Clark finished up and clapped his hand on his shorts. “He told me how things were around here.”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve done it--”

“I can take care of myself,” Clark assured you. “It was nothing. Can I walk you to… wherever you’re going?”

“Sure,” You smiled as he grabbed his bag. “I… I interrupted, though.”

“If you don’t mind my sweat, I don’t,” He affirmed. 

He opened the door for you and you glanced back at Steve as he sat on the squat machine. He looked back at you and lifted a brow. You smiled and his gaze flicked over to Clark and he scowled. You hid your confusion and continued down the hall. 

You’d never seen Steve like that; usually you admired how amiable he could be. Always smiling, always helpful. Perhaps Peter had done more than tear a hole in the universe.

💥

It was rare that you weren’t kept late on Friday. Even more unexpected that Steve would invite you to a movie. Sure, it was a pastime that you, along with Bucky, Sam, and sometimes Nat, would get together for, but it was so last minute you felt entirely unprepared. As you had felt for much of the last few weeks.

As you headed out from the Tower, you found yourself diverted by the scene you found in the hallway. Clark stood, hands in pocket, reading a glass plaque on the wall. There were several through the offices; each explained a different milestone in Stark Industries. He leaned closer and adjusted his glasses; those were Clark’s, not Superman’s he clarified.

You neared quietly and gripped your bag. “Learn anything interesting?”

“Not particularly,” He stopped reading and turned to you. “I like Tony, despite the obvious but… well, I don’t think anyone could ever like him as much as he likes himself.”

“He prefers people to think so,” You said. “What are you doing here?”

“They said they might have fixed the machine or whatever,” He explained. “They didn’t. The particles… They need more of those too. Said something about calling someone to get more? I don’t know, they seem to think I’m too stupid to understand any of it. You know, even my earth isn’t my home. I just happened to fall there… like I did here.”

“Krypton,” You offered. He’d told you a little about it, not much. “I’m sorry you--”

“I don’t miss it. I never knew it.” He shrugged. “I think what’s bugging me is I don’t even miss the place I should. My earth; Metropolis.”

“You had parents there?”

“Had…” He frowned.

“Anyone else?” You prodded.

“At one time but she-- Sometimes things just don’t work out.” He gave a grim smile.

You were silent for a moment. You looked over at the plaque, at the translucent outline of the helmet that topped the famous Iron Man suit. You fidgeted and glanced back at Clark.

“You wanna see a movie?”

“A movie?” His brows drew together.

“Yeah, kinda something we like to do around here when we’re not crammed in here like ants in a hill,” You said. “Bucky, Steve, Sam; they should all be there.”

“Ah,” He nodded hesitantly. “Well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Is it Steve? Don’t worry about him. I’m inviting you as my guest.”

“Well, in that case,” He smiled, genuinely that time.

You nodded down the hall and he gestured you ahead of him, following with his arm almost against yours.

“You know, you and Steve, you got a lot in common.” You said. “Now I’m not saying you have to be best friends but he was once you. One day, he was back in the forties and the next he’s stranded in the next century. I always thought it sounded lonely.”

“Really?” Clark asked. “I never… I didn’t know that.”

“Bucky too but… that’s a long story,” You led him to the elevators and hit the button. “I know they’re stubborn, always have been but I think you’ll see, you’re a lot more alike than you think.

💥

You walked into the movie theatre, staring at your phone as you texted Steve to let him know you were there. Clark grabbed your arm before you could collide with another moviegoer and you thanked him as you awaited a response. You stood awkwardly near the entrance, watching the scores of people and adrift in the smell of popcorn.

“Arcade,” Steve finally replied. “Claw machine.”

You told Clark to follow and dove into the crowd. You followed the current to the arcade and broke off. You stepped past the racing game and the electronic poker and spotted Steve’s broad shoulders as he fought with the stick of the machine. You neared as he bent to grab his prize from the open door beneath.

“Hey,” You chimed.

“Hey, just in time,” He turned with the stuffed rabbit in hand, “This is for--”

His voice died as his eyes settled on Clark. He grimaced and cleared his throat. 

“For you.” He finished and kept his glare above you. “Clark.”

“Thanks,” You took it hesitantly. “Where is everyone else?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“I thought… Oh, well, I just, we usually, all of us,” You found it hard to complete a sentence. “I invited Clark so he wouldn’t be alone and--”

“Cool. That’s cool.” Steve said tersely. “I was waiting to ask you what you wanted to see so… didn’t get tickets yet.”

You smiled and looked down at the rabbit. You realised you might have misread Steve’s text. Yet you didn’t want to assume he meant this as anything more than your usual friendly get together either. You were certain he was just mad that Clark was there because for whatever reason, he just didn’t like him.

“Well, what’s playing?” You asked.

“The only thing still available is that horror movie, Crimson, or that comedy about the mime.” He said. “I’m not big on scary movies but--”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect ya, buddy,” Clark chuckled. “I think a scary movie might be fun.”

“Do you?” Steve challenged.

“Alright, alright, you two, let’s go grab some tickets, maybe some snacks, and calm down,” You urged. “Do you think you can make it through two hours?”

“Easily,” Clark grinned.

“It’s not a problem,” Steve uttered stiffly. “I’ll grab the tickets, why don’t you wait by the gate?”

You gave a pathetic smile and grabbed Clark’s arm. Steve’s eye caught the movement before he stepped away with a scowl. You dragged Clark away and past the rows of game towards the admissions stall. You hovered there, releasing him only to wring your hands together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-- It’s usually a whole lot of us,” You said nervously. “I just don’t know what his problem is. He’s usually so nice and--”

“Ego.” Clark said. “I’ve dealt with it before. He’s the big hero, he’s used to being the best, the one in charge. He doesn’t like that I don’t bow to every demand. That his buddy Stark doesn’t make me.”

“I don’t… know,” You looked over as Steve neared. “Just promise me you’ll try to be nice even if he’s not.”

“For you,” He said. “Of course.”

💥

You usually enjoyed the previews but not that night. On either side of you sat a large, tense, and silently fuming man. You felt trapped between them as their arms took up much of the armrests. You held an extra large popcorn that no one seemed interested in and stared up dumbly as the deep voice announced upcoming titles. You should have just gone home and stared at the ceiling. That would be more enjoyable than this.

Then the theatre went silent as the screen turned black. The sonorous soundtrack droned before the screen lit up again. A mosaic walkway with lines of blood running along the cracks. Slowly the camera panned in until the entire screen was a sickly shade of red and the word Crimson appeared in large black letters, the music stopping on a high, terrifying note.

You really wish you had argued for the comedy. Yeah, it would’ve been stupid but with your anxiety already running high, you’d rather roll your eyes than bite your tongue. 

Twenty minutes in, you rolled up the top of the popcorn bag and set it on the floor. A waste of overpriced kernels but the gory scenes made you anything but hungry. You winced and flinched as the movie carried on and felt a subtle shift from your left. 

Steve’s hand fluttered over yours and he squeezed. You looked over at him and smiled. He leaned in until his arm was flush against you.

From your right, another subtle movement. It was until Clark’s arm slipped down from the top of your seat and dropped over your shoulders that you realised what was going on. He whispered in your ear. “Spooky, huh?”

You nodded as you were trapped in the hot tension of their bodies. You blinked and focused on the screen but you couldn’t decipher the words of the characters, barely even registered their screams. Clark played with the shoulder of your shirt as Steve’s thumb brushed over your skin. You didn’t like whatever battle they had declared.

💥

After the movie, you walked out and shoved the bag of cold popcorn in the trash. Steve was ahead of you and Clark behind you. As you came out in the cool night air, you shivered but basked in the refreshing chill it sent up your spine. The two men were silent.

“Did you like the movie?” You asked, suffocating in their wordless standoff.

“It was alright.” Steve muttered. “Bloody.”

“I liked it,” Clark said. “Been a while since I’ve been to the theatre.”

You nodded and dug your heel into the pavement. You glanced up at the streetlight and down the tarmac at the shine of yellow and white.

“I should get a cab,” You said quietly.

“Here,” Steve raised his hand to hail a taxi. “I’ll share. Make sure you get home safe.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Clark insisted. “Besides, it’s you and me who are headed to the same place.”

“You never know in New York,” Steve watched a cab pull up and open the door. “Nothing wrong with making sure.”

“It’s fine,” You raised your hands in a plea. “Really. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. You two just go… home.”

Clark gave a crooked smile and Steve frowned as he gripped the top of the open cab door. You got in looked up at them. 

“Good night,” You grabbed the door. “I’ll see you two on Monday.”

“Night,” Steve’s hand dropped and he backed away.

“Good night,” Clark called to you. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

“Will do,” You said as you pulled the door closed. 

You sighed and gave the cabbie your address before letting your head flop back against the leather seat. You couldn’t decide who was dumber; you or them.

💥

Monday came and you had a peculiar butterfly flapping around in your stomach. Friday night hung over you like a shadow. The thought of facing either man was unpromising. The idea of facing them together was worse and made you squirm. There was something you were missing and you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Or you were just being willfully and stubbornly ignorant.

But at the Tower, neither of them appeared. Well, they didn’t need to be there everyday. They probably got more done at the compound with its bigger and more accommodating facilities. You were thankful for the unexpected respite. Still, you were anxious. There was always Tuesday.

You buried yourself in paperwork and spent a little too long on the phone with intelligence. You skipped your lunch and by the end of the day, you were thoroughly exhausted. Yet you still had work to do. A lot of work. So you hunkered down for a few hours of overtime and went over field reports as you paced around your office, trying to stretch out the kinks in your legs.

You were startled by a knock. The Tower had grown quiet, most of the employees gone, even Tony as he had plans with Pepper. You slid the folder onto your desk and went to the door. Clark beamed at you from the other side.

“You’re here late,” He said.

“You too,” You stuck your head out and peered up and down the hallway. “I didn’t know you were even here.”

“Well, you know, the compound can be a bit… much so I come here at night to work out.” He said. “It helps me relax.”

“Oh,” You looked up at him confused.

“I just… I could hear you walking around in here and if you need a break, I’ll be in the gym. That’s all.” He said.

“Okay,” You nodded. “Sure, um…” You glanced back at the office. “Maybe I’ll take a break now. I could use it.”

“Alright,” He said happily. “Well, um,” He rubbed his neck as he backed up. “Should I lead the way?”

You stepped out into the hallway and looked down towards the next. He turned and you followed just behind him. You frowned as you realised he wasn’t really dressed for the gym. Well, maybe he still needed to change. You kept on, happy at least to be out of your stuffy office for the first time all day.

He opened the gym door and you stepped through, only noticing that another was already there as the door clicked shut behind you. Steve sat, hands together, on the weight bench. He wore a tee shirt and jeans. Like Clark, he didn’t look as if he meant to use the equipment. You spun to looked back at Clark.

“Um, what’s going on?” You asked. “You two--”

“We have our differences,” Steve said from behind you. You turned back to him as he stood. “That much we’ve figured out but we’ve also found that we have one glaring thing in common.”

You narrowed your eyes, dizzy and you looked between them.

“You,” Clark said.

Your heart dropped. You gulped, speechless. Then you laughed. It was unbelievable. Ridiculous. You were misunderstanding them.

“Funny?” Clark asked and you choked on your giggles.

“Well, which one is it?” Steve asked.

“What do you--” You blinked. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Friends?” Steve scoffed. “I don’t think so.”

“Is this a game to you?” Clark asked. “Huh, you like to lead the boys on and then act innocent when they want more.”

“No, I never-- I was just being nice,” You snapped. “I don’t-- We saw a movie and-- I didn’t do anything to--”

“You didn’t stop anything either,” Steve stepped closer and Clark mirrored him. “Would you have? If my hand had slipped a little lower? Or his?”

“You two… this isn’t funny anymore.” You spun between them as they closed in.

“Choose,” Clark said. “Him or me? It’s obvious you want one of us.”

You were silent. You picked at your nail as you looked back and forth between them. 

“Or both?” Steve smirked and his eyes met the other man’s over your head. “I mean, you’ve been trying to make peace between us. What better way?”

“I…” You shuddered. “I got work to--”

You tried to sidestep Clark and he caught you around the waist. He flung you back and you collided with Steve. His arm wrapped around you as you struggled with him. You stomped his foot but he merely grunted and Clark neared as you kicked out at him.

“Stop, stop!” You cried. “I didn’t mean for-- You’ve misunderstood-- I never--”

“Shhhh,” Clark caught your feet and you hung between the two men. “It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“The opposite, in fact,” Steve added as they moved you to the weight bench and forced you across it.

“Hold her still,” Clark flicked your heels off and they bounced across the floor. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s not play this game.”

“Steve,” You gasped as you looked up at the man holding down your shoulders. “Steve, please, why are you--”

He slid his arm across your chest and smothered you with his palm. Your legs flailed and Clark trapped them between his as he stood over you on the bench and tugged at the waist of your skirt, busting the zipper as he tore it past your thighs. You writhed as the fabric fluttered to the floor and he grabbed your panties. He slipped them down your legs, past the sheer thigh highs and the dropped atop your skirt.

“Don’t let her up,” Clark ordered and left you to kick against the bench. 

He returned with a skipping rope and wound it around your waist and arms, securing you to the bench. He nodded to Steve who ripped open the front of your blouse, the fabric pushed back over your shoulders to bare your bra. He snapped the front of it and it fell away from your chest, agape like your open shirt. 

Clark grabbed another skipping rope and wound it around your shoulders and neck. Steve let you go and you squirmed against the tight rubber cords.

“Please,” You begged.

“Do you want me to shut her up or--?” Steve asked.

“I thought you called the shots around her,” Clark snapped as he removed his glasses.

“Do I?” Steve neared him. “If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be here.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be drooling like a lovesick puppy,” Clark sneered. “Shut her up, then.”

Steve snickered and turned away from him. He winked at you as he neared and undid the front of his jeans. You grunted as you tried to roll off the bench but only caused the rope to dig deeper into your flesh. You pushed your feet onto the bench and kicked, trying to break the ropes. Nothing.

Steve came around your head and pushed open the denim. He rolled his jeans down with his briefs as he pulled himself out, stroking his already hard cock. You shook your head, barely able to as the rope squeezed your neck. He gripped your chin tightly, pressing until you opened your mouth with a whimper.

He bent his knees and shoved himself inside. You gagged around him as he forced his cock down your throat. Your body spasmed at the suddenness of the intrusion and your fingers clawed at the bench. He pulled back but not for long as he slid back in, your throat contracting around him.

“Mmmm,” Clark purred as he wrenched your legs apart and sat between them. He dragged his fingers along your folds. “So sweet… well, that’s what you like people to think, isn’t it?”

You could only groan around Steve as Clark teased you. Rubbing you until you felt the wetness spread. He poked a thick finger inside of you and your legs tensed against him. Your legs were trapped against his as he held them wide apart with his knees. He added another finger as Steve pushed himself as deep as he could go.

“You just gonna play with her all night?” Steve rutted down your throat between thick breaths.

“I’ll do what I want,” Clark clasped your thigh roughly with his other hand. 

He turned his fingers and curled them. A pressure built at his fingertips. You were ashamed of how easily your body responded to him. You gripped the side of the bench as it seemed to strain beneath you.

Clark hummed and drew his hand away. You couldn’t see him but could hear him suck his fingers. It added to the sickness that curdled your stomach as Steve fucked your mouth. The sloppy noises that came from you echoed across the airy gym.

The bench shifted as you sensed movement at the other end. Clark lifted your legs and slid closer. He rested your ankles against his shoulders as his hand brushed your cunt, then his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, poked inside a little, then pulled out. 

He slicked himself along your folds, rubbing against you and once more pressed himself to your entrance. He sank inside of you slowly. He let out a long groan and the deeper he got, the louder he grew. He jolted you as he lost his patience and impaled you entirely. 

Steve’s cock poked the back of your throat as he bent over you and sped up once more. Clark began to thrust from your other end, your walls stretched around him painfully, and you arched your back against the tension of the ropes. You were lightheaded, barely able to breathe, your eyes rolled back as you quivered between the men.

The heat bloomed within you, building and building, the fire flowed through your veins as the room faded away. You shuddered and gasped for breath around Steve’s cock. Large hands clung to your thighs and lifted your ass just slightly as Clark hammered into you harder and harder.

You legs shook at the sudden snap inside of you. You unraveled in an instant and murmured as you spasmed wildly atop the bench. Your orgasm washed away all your fear and doubts and your lips hugged Steve’s cock even snugger as it slid in and out of your mouth.

Then it stopped. All of it. The ropes loosened and you were suddenly very empty. The only bound that remained was that around your neck which grew tight. You opened your eyes as they turned you onto your stomach. Your arms and legs dangled over the sides of the bench and the rope, a noose at your throat, drew taut as your head was forced up.

Clark held the other end of the skipping rope as he poked at your lips. He slid his cock into your mouth and down your throat. Steve settled behind you and titled your pelvis as he felt around for your entrance. His cock filled you swiftly as he slid closer. His hands gripped your hips as he began to slam into you, forcing Clark’s cock further down your throat.

“Fuck,” Steve snarled as he crashed into you over and over, jerking your entire body as he did.

“She’s… good,” Clark breathed as pulled the rope tighter. “Very… good.”

“Shit, I’m almost there,” Steve slapped your ass as you began to quake again. “Look at her, she’s cumming again.”

“Mmm, such a good girl,” Clark’s large hand grasped your head as he hammered into you. “Yeah, oh, that’s it.”

Suddenly, he pulled out and dropped your head, the spit dripping from your lips. You felt a warmth on our back as he came between your shoulders, his groans deep and dusky. Steve followed shortly, pushing himself back as he slipped out of you and rubbed himself through his climax against your thigh.

You remained, weak and whimpering, on the bench. You couldn’t move; stunned, drained of every ounce of strength. You panted wildly and your fingertips felt the cold floor blindly.

“Get her up,” Clark ordered as your vision began to clear. 

“You.” Steve countered sharply. “You said it yourself,” Fingers danced over your spine and made you shiver. “I’m in charge.”

#steve rogers #clark kent #dark!steve rogers #dark!clark kent #dark steve rogers #dark clark kent #steve rogers x reader #clark kent x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark clark kent x reader #dark!clark kent x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #crossover #au #one shot #superman #captain america #mcu #marvel #dc #dcu

[ramblesofajester]

whispers of a witch (chap1/?

this is just a self indulgent fic for me to write when I feel like shit and yes it will have nsfw

info: they/them, curvy body, glasses, anxiety.

The cool wind sweep past your cheek as you squat down, fingers numbing and turning blue from the constant foraging across the forest floor to fine the herbs you require, its late winter and you have just run out of several herbs you use quite frequently for personal use and when healing the villagers. of course as always there is a catch when you need to get something done. one, you where delivering a baby a good portion of the day, then doing your normal round with the villagers, so soon night is to fall, two the Lycians have been testing there luck with the village borders as of resent, three the only place those herbs are left growing are near Heisenberg's land due to you harvesting all the more accessible ones previously. and just to top it all of duke wouldn't be able to gather a shipment until the next new moon, that being two weeks away so here you are right before dusk cut plants with frozen fingers outside of a missive chain-link fence in the middle of the woods. Gazing around, you are in a small clearing, the village is about a mile, mile and a half to the south west of here. the factory's smoke stacks just visible over the tree line. Sighing you focus on the task at hand, slowly griping the base of the plant you say thanks to the earth and pull it up root and all, listening to the birds as there song slowly drifted thru the trees. standing up you, make your way over to the next bushel of plants emerging from the thin coat of snow. suddenly all the brides stop singing setting off of several alarms in your brain knowing its wasn't you who disturbed them wiping around, franticly looking you hear and see movement all around you just out of sight in the brush you cant tell what it is. assuming it to be Lycians or and angry bear or even a stray ghoul from the castle grounds. garbing the dagger from your boot you crouch down to an defensive position slowly making your way toward the path you came from. as you take a step back slowly a few Lycian emerge from the tree line teeth bared eyes holding a burning hunger. a soft gasp leaves your lips if there are this many you know more are soon to follow

"well shit, I couldn't just go and have an easy day now could I?" you ask the Lycians sarcastically not really expecting a reply. a deep chuckle caught you off guard and in your shock you hear the swift shifting of metal. the feeling of cold steel on your ankle stealing your attention from the fast change of gravity as you are hoisted into the air, dangling like a prized fish. attempting to regain your bearings. you look around seeing the Lycian pack now completely surrounding you.

"well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," standing clear in the path arm outstretched to hold the chain around you feet taking a step further with every word.

"a lost little bunny, who is hoping around where they should not be..." he says in a little tune with mirth in his step. finally stopping right in front of you raising you so your face is level with his shoulders you reach out attempting to swipe at him with you dagger, as soon as you weapon is revealed is ripped from your grasp and now spinning around you and the lord. a large gloved hand grips your face forcing you to look at lord Heisenberg.

"now I cant tell if that was stupidity, or bravery little bunny but I'm guessing you dont know who I am." he speaks with amusement as he examines your face and, forces you to look at him. you stop squirming long enough to stare at the round shades perched on his nose. this being the first time you have seen the lord this close ,its usually only in passing or from the shadows as to not be noticed, but now you have to admit the stubble and scars, the cocky smile, the smell of oil, pine, smoke, and Tabaco is actually not that bad.

"No I know who you are, just really dont care cause I'm a little busy" you immediately wiggle from his grasp and start reaching for the chain around your ankles. a boisterous laughter is released from behind you and suddenly your falling about a meter, back connecting with the ground a large "oof" emanating from you. Rushing to get the chain from around you ankles it fly from your hands. jumping to your feet you face Heisenberg head held high

"oh... you do know me, so it must be stupidity, that must explain why your on my land as well" Heisenberg ponders aloud." so you must either be lost or have a death wish" he says with a chuckle

"nope not lost, just need some of the herbs here and if you live in this village and haven't runaway or offed yourself you have a death wish" you reply flatly brushing the dirt of of yourself as you stand to gather your things. "now" you say turning back to him "my dragger if you'd please" extending you hand cautiously with and expectants look.

"wow, you've got some balls on you" puffing on his cigar "you better watch that attituded bunny" you are suddenly painfully aware of the small pack of hunger Lycian circling you both "and remember who the man in control is" hand still outstretched you snap back with

"listen hear 'lord Heisenbitch' I am sorry for trespassing on you land but I need 7 different herbs and at least 5oz of each, I need them before tomorrow evening, some of them for mother Miranda, as well as a women who just gave birth in the village. Now unless you wish to explain to Miranda why her healer is missing, and her people dead due to illnesses I would like my dagger back and you and your fine fuzzy companions to kindly fuck of." you knew your words where dangerous but at this point in the evening you really didn't give a fling fuck and the shock on Heisenberg's face when he recognizes you almost made it worth it.

"Wait your Miranda's prized witch, oh man this is great, how have you lasted so long, your so small bunny" this just pissed you off more you want your dagger back but he's just so infuriating. your dont have time for this

"Fine, just keep the dagger" you say shoving past him. Growling at the Lycians blocking the path they stay there ground and growl back, only to glance behind you whimper, and slowly back away clearing the path. A chain roughly wraps around you waist spinning you around and pulling you flush against Heisenberg before returning to his trench coat pocket. blowing his smoke in your face he drawls

"wow wow wow, slow you roll peter cotton tail I ain't being stingy, I just wanna talk a little" as he says this he wraps his arm around you waist slipping your dagger back into its sheath leaving his hand to rest on the dip of your hip, the other griping your chin forcing you to look up at him

"Let. Me. Go!" you hiss out never braking your gaze of his glasses

"now what would Miranda think of this, her pet of the leash, not respecting or listening to your lord" he teases not lessening his grip at all

"I dont give a scraggly rats ass, just let me go you bastard!" you spit at him, resaving a chuckle as a reply .

"ohhh I like you bunny, you've got fight not a lot of that left hear any more. but I need something from you darling, so we are gonna take a little walk back to your place, your gonna help me, then ill help you with your little situation how does that sound there bunny?" spinning you around arm still securely on your waist, he starts to walk still puffing on his cigar, quickly you realize you have no choice in the matter. the Lycians slow start to follow you keeping there distance at about 3 meters back this continues for a wile and it might have even been pleasant having company for once on the walk, you if you ignore the hungry Lycians and the fear Heisenberg will get angry or be done with his little game. slowly the forest edge and the village come in to the distances well as a small well worn foot path leading into a thick pine forest near the base of the Benevento valley

"so bunny, which way is it" Heisenberg ask moving his arm up to rest on your shoulders using the other to jester at the path ways.

"This way" you mumble out, gesturing to the pine foot path. now moving forward on you own accord tiered of being user around like a lost child. you dont make it very far seeing as soon as you start to move away he tightens his grip

"ohh come on bunny, no need to get cold feet. your getting something good out of this too, you just chill a little there thumper" he says smirk never leaving his face.

"well it sure as hell dont feel like it, this feels more like a kidnaping only we are headed to my own dwelling" you watch as the pine trees grow thicker with every passing second drawing closer to your burrow. soon a large moon gate covered in rosemary and lavender comes into a view just beyond it several greenhouses small and large soft light emanating from a few

"Now hold up thumper if you have all of these, what were you doing traipsing around by my factory? you weren't trying to get my attention were you?" he jabs at you obviously trying to get a rise out of you.

"What I was looking for I do not grow because it is local and I had a store of some, but it a since been exhausted, lots of sick ones this season." you replied tiredly seeing as dusk has passed a wile ago and you had been called out well before day brake. now you where just too tired to deal with his shenanigans. continuing forward you approach the door and tap the center of the door with the old iron key handing from your neck three times then you insert it into the keyhole and twist it three times to the right and it slowly creeks open. rushing forwards in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you you start to tend to the fire stroking the coals and adding a few logs. while your bussing your self Heisenberg makes himself at home pulling out a chair and throwing his feet on top of the table and popping a new cigar between his lips . Turning to grab your tea pot you see this unfold waltzing over to him and slapping his feet of the table

"That is mahogany" as you say this he goes to protest " no 'lord' Heisenberg you in my domain now no feet on the table" you snatch the cigar from between his lip and toss it into the fireplace "and no smoking in the main room."

"alright, alright," he says holding his arms in the air "one you could have just put it out and handed it back thumper, and second of all watch who your talking to darlin" to this you quickly respond with

"Still dont care" he gives you grunt as a response

"third of all I still have yet to disclose the nature of my visit I need you to look at something for me" and with that he stands up his chest now centimeters from your nose he reaches for his hat and sunglasses setting them on the table, tossing his trench coat on to the chair. your face quickly turning a shade of red dark enough to rival the radishes out in garden as you realize just what he is doing. pulling of his shirt with a wince. Holding his shirt in his hands, you try not to make your gaze obvious, he slowly turns to reveal a large, deep laceration very poorly bandages and clearly in the throes of a terrible infection. you immediately push all other thoughts aside concern taking its place, you recognized this wound, you where present when he resaved it .

flashback

"you stupid man child, you know nothing you should just leave the talking to the adults like a good little boy"

"shut your dame hole you bitch"

they have been going at it for 37 minutes and counting Alcina said something Karl disagrees and so the back and forth begins about 5 minutes ago Karl brought out his hammer and been waving it out in the open. tensions have been rising and your a little worried it is about to get violent. Anggie who had been watching the argument from you lap starts to vibrate with joy sensing the approaching violence.

"ooooooooohhh its aaboutttttt tooo get goooooodddddd!!!" she sings while hoping off your lap to sit closer on donnas lap seeing as you are perched by the back wall behind Miranda. and just as you both had predicted disaster struck.

"you insolent fool." Alcina suddenly cry's, swiping her hand forward as Karl turns his back to her slashing from shoulder to hip. you immediately rush forward, only to be stopped by mother Miranda holding her arm in your path.

"ENOUGH, stop the foolishness NOW!" Miranda's voice ringing out clear through the entire hall "Heisenberg my son, stand," she demands. he slowly makes his way to his feet now facing mother Miranda "your actions have been stupid and reckless as punishment, I shall leave you with this burden to care for. maybe it will teach you how much effort it takes heal rather than destroy. and what if feels like to live with ones mistakes." you hand covers your mouth as you bite your tongue. you may not like Karl that much but he still is not as bad as they say.

end scene

"BY THE GODS, how has this not healed yet!? have you been rubbing dirt in it? I knew this was a stupid lesson. I knew I should have gone against that two faced, false goddess, pretensive ass, bitch and marched my happy ass to that factor. THAT WAS TWO WEEKS AGO, this should have been gone ages ago!!!" you shout while carefully examining the laceration. quickly you pull out the char he was previously siting on out, so he could sit on it with his back to the fire and lean on the back of the chair. grabbing Heisenberg's shoulders you gently shove him into the chair. rushing around you grab several herbs hanging from the ceiling in bundles. then over to the counter you produce a mortar and pestle along with several oils and extracts

"woooow, thumper slow down, slow down," he chides calmly garbing your shoulders, your arms still packed full of items. slowly he starts to set the items on the table. "now I didn't rub dirt in it, but there might be some oil, its not healed because I have no idea how to treat a wound this large. and what's this about Miranda being a bitch and ignoring orders?" as he says this you realized just how bad you have fucked up.

"OH MY GODS, I didn't mean a word of it lord Heisenberg I meant no disrespect please I am so sorry dont tell mother Miran-" you franticly bow keeping your eyes to the floor hoping he would ether spare you make you death quick. while he clearly doesn't like Miranda or her family he was still a part of it.

"hay hay hay thumper calm down your alright. I'm not gonna go all psycho on you, and your secret is safe with me, your not the only one with unsavory views on that bitch Miranda." your slowly look up at him in shock it is widely know that he disagree with the other lords but this is a first. you gingerly make your way over to the table and start to mix together several herbs and flowers. "and thumper just call me Karl" he says with a flirtatious grin, you blush but grinding the herbs into a powder

"only if you stop calling me thumper." slowly adding some drops of oils to the mixture making a thick green salve.

"well I gotta have something to call you bunny" he say grin stretching across his face as you blush even more now

"well my name is (Y/N) ok, now stop" you say while puffing up you cheek in a pout. rushing behind him so he can no longer see your face and you can apply the salve" this is going to sting" not give him tome to proses any thing you said you rip off the bandages and start to carefully apply the salve. a shout bubbles up in his throat the second the salve touches his shoulder

"SON OF A Bitch..." he snarls" maybe a little more warning next time y/n" as soon as he growls out your name you short circuit you hand no simply resting next to his wound "y/n... y/n" he waits a couple of seconds before trying again. "y/n!" jumping a little you come back to reality " you all good back there" Karl questions

"almost done just need to finish this up, then I will apply bandages, and all you need to do is rest for a day or two" as you Finnish saying this you reach for he bandages and gently begin to properly wrap the wound "this is how you properly wrap a wound Karl" you make sure to say first his name. "go all the way around and over and around the shoulder" slowly and carefully placing the bandages showing him the movements and positions. you move around to the front of lightly wrapping his shoulder "dont go to tight when bandaging joints, it increases mobility but not lose enough to move" as you speak solely focused on you task at hand you dont see Karl staring at your face, a look of adoration on his face which he is quick to drop once you turn to him. gently patting his shoulder "now all you need is a lot of rest and a hot meal" smiling you slowly make your way over to the fire removing the teapot and hanging a medium sized cauldron over the fire. turning kettle in hand you see Karl putting on his hat and going to pull his coat on having already put his shirt on

"well thumper its been wonderful but I have to get back to my-" you cut him off taking his coat and hanging it by the door.

"oh no you don't, you need rest and real food, and not to make any assumptions but I doubt you'll get any of those in your factory" as you say this you put the chair back in its normal position swiftly going to a small spare room on the side. grabbing a thick blanket you walk to the table, and drape it over the back of the chair. patting it flat you open your arms and jester to the chair "now please have a seat food will be done shortly" you say with a smile as he just stand there slack jawed at you attempting to boss him around. slowly he take a seat and just watches as you prepare a cup of tea for you both "hear this should help with the pain" you say handing him a large mug that still looked too small in his hand. you turn and head back to the counter and start dicing us vegetables and some fish to put the cauldron.

"thank you" he mumbles quietly watching you dance about the kitchen a soft smile on his face. "so what's your story? you obviously dont like Miranda so why stay and be her little pet healer on her beck and call." Karl jests wanting to know more about you now that he has the chance with out his stupid family there

"well a long time ago I has someone I had to look out for, they needed help I could not provide it, Miranda could. So I made a deal, help her, and ill do as wish. So I comply to keep her safe and happy, if it went for her, I would have sent that false deity to her flaming grave decades ago." you finished cutting the veggies and meat depositing it in the pot, you make your way opposite of Karl at the table and take a seat. slowly sipping your tea. "now I just tend to the villagers for Miranda and visit my belladonna"

"wait who is belladonna" he askes a look of confusion overtaking his features

"my apologies, I mean donna, before Miranda adopted her and gave her her gift she was a sad and lonely child with parents too ill to save, so after her parents passing, I watched over her and loved her as my own" you say a soft smile on your face looking around the room I was the only one she let touch Anggie, she was such a kind child asking so many questions behind closed doors and always eager to learn new skills" you reminisce the old days setting your now empty cup on the table. "but now she's grown and well, and happy, so that is all that matters" you say curtly standing and heading over the the bubbling pot of stew and giving it a stir.

"so wait your telling me you the witch who raised Benevento," Karl spouts astonishment clear in his voice. "One how are you not dead yet? Two that's why you spend so much time in that spooky ass house, and three how come you aren't an old hag you dont look a day over 25?" even in shock this man some how still manages to throw in a flirt. you give a small chuckle.

"well when I struck my deal with Miranda," you make you way over to a tall cabinet and withdraw two wooden bowls and a large ladle ." donna was just become a young adult, so she new what excepting Miranda's gift would entitle, including the prolonged life." returning to the stew and scooping a hefty serving into Karl's bowl and only filling your half way. "after her parents suicided she couldn't handle the loss another parental figure, her words not mine, she refused the treatment unless Miranda changed me as well." hanging the ladle on the wall and carefully turning back to Karl and making your way to him. "I had already had my go at life and helped as many as I could so I agreed not expecting to come out alive," you say calmly sitting down in the seat acres from Karl. "unfortunately my will was to strong so hear I am now, a fail experiment serving out my end of the deal" you give a sarcastic smile and do a little jazz hands as your story comes to a close. Karl is still for moment then burst into a deep laughter, but still alarmed at your willingness to except death.

"I'm sorry bunny I dont mean to be insensitive," he attempts to suppress his chuckles. "you are really the one that raised donna?"

"yes I am I know its a little hard to believe, but yes." you say solemnly feeling a little weird everyone who knew you too be donnas nanny have long since passed.

"no no no, there ain't nothing wrong with that darlin! In fact you did fucking awesome, out of all of us monsters she has the best manners and turned out the best." he says in a panicked tone, afraid he has said something wrong.

"Karl none of you are monsters, and your ok you didn't say anything wrong" you say quickly adding " none of you are monsters! you and the other were forced into the experiments, unlike donna and I. your only a monster when you subject an enter village to a false religion just to slaughter them for her experiments under the name of a sick false family she has not love for!" you say venom and hate for that hag dripping from each word. a stern but caring look on your face as you look rights in his eyes as you say this "you aren't a monster. you where a kid with out a choice, and now you are a man surviving and your doing amazing in your situation." you cautiously grab his hand resting in the table " you are not a monster no mater who has told you that including your self" He pulls back lightly but does not remove your hand from his., allowing you to rub his knuckles.

"but I-" he starts but you dont let him continue

"nope you cant convince me other wise, I'm the village crazy witch I am all knowing and wise." you say in a cherry tone, garbing his hand with both of yours. using one to tap out a small tune on the back of his hand. that nice deep laughter made an appearance again you have to admit its nice to hear him laugh instead of ague with everyone.

"well dame bunny, can't argue with that logic now can I " A large toothy grin takes over his face little crinkles show at the corners of his eyes. shaking his head he gives a chuckle then picks up the bowl of stew and finishing what was left in the bowl in a few gulps. setting the bowl down he asks "shit that hit the spot, can I just take you home with me and have you cook for me every night that some dame good stew" he jokes. laughing a little you finish your bowl, garbing his you stand and bring them to a bucket at the end of the sink.

"no I cant come home with you every day" rinsing the plates before setting them in the bucket you continue. "but you can come over when ever the lantern on the porch is light, if its not I am either in the village with a patient, or visiting donna or Miranda, or foraging. I am a busy witch Karl, just a warning." he chuckles

"ill make a note of that expect me often that shits good." he says pointing at the pot hanging over the small flames.

"well in that case ill put some in jars so you can take it with you when you leave tomorrow" you say off handedly while making your way over to the pot fishing the leftovers out, and putting it in two large mason jars. out of the corner of your eye you see him deflate a little when you when you mention his departure tomorrow. moving over to a wall of cupboard you store the two jars "to night you can take my bed or the cot in the guest room, though I dont know if you'll fit" you say walking over to said door and opening it reveling a small room with a vanity in the back left corner to the left of the door was a small sink and counter with a basin next to it. opposite to that was a small cabinet and in the back right corner a small wooden cot about half the side of the man now standing directly behind you in the doorway. so close, when he took a deep breath you could feel his shirt brush your, and his warm breath fans across your neck. now with bright red face you make you hastily make you way to the cabinet to the right of the door and start to grab a large quilt and a pillow or two. Karl enters the room looking around taking in the new environment and casually making his way over to the cot and taking a seat. you head over to him staring at the blanket hoping that he would not see your face

"thank you, y/n you really could've just sent my packing I really appreciate it I do" he says with a soft smile resting on his scared face, 'it suites him,' you think to your self 'he should smile more.'

"well hear you go this should be think enough it gets pretty chilly in hear and I haven't fixed the heater yet so if you need more there are some in the cabinet you say gesturing to the cabinet with your head. holding the blanket and pillow out for him to take he reaches hands grazing against yours as he takes them from your hands pulling them closer"

"thanks bunny I re-" he is abruptly cut short by a sharp wine of wood under duress followed quickly by a loud snap of the cot braking a the loud thud of Karl's ass hitting the floor. "OH FUCK" Karl was now the one looking up at you. slapping a hand over your mouth to suppress the laughter about to burst from you.

"OH by the gods, are you ok" you say still trying to hold back the onslaught of giggles offering a hand for him to take

"so this is what the weather is like down here" he says jokingly as you hoist him off the ground carful of his shoulder and back. gently slapping his chest

"I'm only a little shorter than you, ya know" you say "but in light of me needing to purchase a new cot from duke, I guess you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." he gives you a flirty look

"dame thumper if you wanted me in your bed that bad all you had to do was ask not buries my ass first" he says with a deep chuckle.

"I am not tying to get you in my bed" you say panicked face exploding with red. "I wont even be in it with you, and secondly it wasn't that far of a drop so the only thing damage was you ego and my cot obviously. now come follow me please." you say now attempting to lead him out of the room. Karl looks at you as if he was trying to figure something but soon trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you lead him through the main room down a hallway with three doors heading to the furthest down you push open the heavy wooden door. letting Karl enter first you make your way to the bed garbing your favorite pillow and a thick blanket off the bed spread "well she's all yours" you say jokingly waving your arm over the bed as a invitation dont lay on your back or shoulder" you say making your way back to the door arms now full "sleep well." and with at you turn to leave only to be stopped by a hand on your shoulder.

"wait if I'm sleeping here and I just demolished your spare bed where will you be sleeping" he ask concern lacing his voice a he turn you around to face him

"well ill go clean up the old cot and then ill just use some spare blankets as a mattress for the night." you say with out a second thought.

"no no no, I will not let you do that you have done enough for me. I'll just go back to my factory and be out of your hair." your face scrunches up.

"you say that as if I am annoyed by you, but I can assure you, you do not annoy me. next I wont let you leave this hut you need to rest and I need to change those bandages as soon as you wake." you say no room for argument evident in your voice. "and if you have such an issue using my bed but I apologies its the only one, and I wont let you sleep on the floor with that wound." you with finality.

"then I guess well just have too share it. cues I will just jump through a window to go back home" he say with a laugh. you have no idea if he was joking or not. still, gazing up at his face the smirk remained "so" he asks "which will it be will you join me or and I gonna have to practice my long distance sprint." you sigh growing tired with every passing second your long day finally catching up too you. no longer having any energy to argue.

"fine" you huff out walking over to the bed where Karl was I like the right side" climbing in you take a body pillow from the back of the bed putting it in the middle " you better stay on your half of the bed old man" you say climbing back down from the bed and heading a dresser under a large window. you produce a pair of sleep thin pants and a large think white long sleeved shirt. "I need to change so ether steep out or just dont look." to tired to care at this point you look over your shoulder and see him turned away from you sitting on the left side of the bed. replacing your dirty clothe with fresh sleep pants and a oversized top. garbing a spare pair of large sleep pants and shirt before making your way back to the bed, flopping onto it comically ,while tossing the change of clothing on his side of the bed "hear you go, this should fit" he looks down at the articles of clothing.

"well thank you bunny," undoing his belt and changing his pant, completely ignoring the new shirt. "but uhhh I dont think that shirt is gonna work though" he says smirk evident in his voice.

"and why would that be-" you ask confusion clear on you face as you roll over to face him without thinking. face exploding in color as you freeze up, now staring at his bare chest brain loosing any train of thought.

"my eyes are up hear now bunny," he says with a deep chuckle "but please dont let me interrupt your staring. as for why I never sleep with one its confining" smirk never leaving his face, as he lays down on his half of the mattress. quickly you roll over

"I wasn't staring, I zoned out. Just toss the shirt on to the top of the dresser" he gives another chuckle but says nothing. pulling the thick comforter up to you chin due to the chill, reaching over you turn the knob on the lantern smothering the flame. "good night Karl sleep well" you say without a second thought closing your eyes slowly, reality fading out as you hear Karl

"goodnight thumper sleep well" a gentleness to his tone that sends the rest of the way to sleep.

word count: 5884

ps: please forgive my horrid grammar

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil #res 8 #res evil #donna beneviento #re8 angie #re8 donna #re8 karl heisenberg

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (7)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo

*****

The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone. 

The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley. 

So, where the hell is she? 

His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please. 

The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door. 

As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming. 

“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?” 

Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries. 

His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation. 

Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.” 

Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”

Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps. 

His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out. 

While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one. 

He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire. 

When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario. 

Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong. 

Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function. 

Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out? 

The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her. 

For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction. 

Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.” 

Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own. 

When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her. 

It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep. 

Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?” 

Riley groans. “No.” 

“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 

“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit. 

“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.” 

“I’m not hangry.” 

“Says the one who skipped breakfast.” 

“I was hiding from you.” 

“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.” 

It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?” 

Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink. 

Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.” 

“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade. 

“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning. 

“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.” 

Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.” 

Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.” 

She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.” 

Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this. 

"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns. 

"Go right ahead." 

Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private. 

Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.

*****

Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them. 

Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish. 

There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet. 

Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish. 

When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too. 

As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things. 

One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings. 

Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself. 

Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?" 

Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?" 

It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes. 

Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further. 

If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works. 

“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand. 

Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?” 

“The tapping.” 

“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.” 

Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice. 

"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course. 

The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair." 

Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley. 

What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone. 

They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too." 

"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash. 

"So if we eliminate him…" 

Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake. 

Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that. 

"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind. 

"What?" 

"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out." 

A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right." 

Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?" 

Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me. 

*****

In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.

His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet. 

For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin. 

Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him. 

He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—

Shit. 

Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against. 

Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp. 

Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?” 

“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room. 

“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.” 

“I told you it was an accident!” 

“Betrayal.” 

Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 

“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.” 

Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.” 

And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on. 

“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head. 

Right. 

The dog. 

The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too. 

Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house. 

.

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#beth writes #looking through a window au #macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 7

Yeah, well… Probably not what you’ve expected…  But for me this is them as well…

The Clown and the Circus Bear

*

So everything had been perfect. 

Owen had felt genuinely happy. He thought Tom was fucking adorable, he wanted to kiss him, wanted to fuck him. 

The moment on the hill with him was definitely something he would always cherish, always remember. This deep feeling of affection combined with this immense tension, the thrill, this feeling that yes, the other felt the same, wanted the same…

And as fucking frustrating as it was that they were interrupted and didn’t kiss, he had loved that, too. It was like being in a cheesy movie where the tension was ramped up yet again with a cheap director’s trick.

He took a deep breath. 

But now this. 

It had been like this before. 

Sometimes when he was genuinely happy, he would suddenly get this fear of losing everything. Like he wasn’t allowed to be this happy. So the happier he got, the more likely he was to crash. 

And this morning he had crashed, and crashed hard. 

A dark cloud of thick cotton already surrounded him, numbing and suffocating him. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

He had managed to get through the day and pretend everything was fine. But now he was on set at this birthday party of Natasha's and he felt completely out of place, like he didn’t belong here. Everyone around him was laughing too loud, talking too loud and he just wanted to get away from it all. 

Of course, after yesterday on the hill, everything was pointing towards him and Tom kissing tonight. Because why not. They should have fun at this party and then at some point.... kiss... right?

And it was that very expectation that caused Owen to crash. 

The excitement that he had felt yesterday was gone. Instead there was this fear of somehow not meeting the expectations, of doing something wrong that would destroy everything.

He hated it. 

Knowing that this was just some kind of sick mechanism in his head and he wasn’t able to do anything about it. He hated feeling like shit when this happened, but he bit his tongue and just smiled through the pain.

He saw Tom talking to people, saw him searching for eye contact with him, beaming at him, winking at him but Owen avoided him, always went somewhere else, far away from him. He felt a twinge in his chest at each smile sent his way and he finally couldn't do it anymore, so he disappeared behind some backdrops and got to the areas that were only illuminated with emergency lights. 

He had always loved that. Wandering through abandoned, dimly lit sets. He loved the atmosphere it created. But now he was just enjoying the darkness and a break away from all these laughing people. 

With a big sigh he sat down on the steps in the TVA interrogation room, resting his arms on his drawn knees, and closed his eyes. 

Why the fuck…!

He didn’t want this. 

He just wanted to be happy. 

He had been happy. 

So what was wrong with him?

Why had he to be like that?

He really hated himself. 

He wanted to drown this feeling in alcohol but he couldn’t risk falling even deeper.  

To think about his kids in these situations sometimes helped. Sometimes it made it worse, made him think he was the worst dad of all. 

Since he had come to Atlanta to work on `Loki´ everything had been so good this far. 

Even his current sleeping problems had stopped. He had felt calm. Content. Confident. 

Meeting Tom was one of the best things that had happened to him lately. He felt good in his presence. Safe. It was something he hadn’t expected. So he had cherished the time he had spent with Tom on and off set as something really special. 

And working on `Loki´ had been a blessing, too. The script was crap if he was honest. But due to that they had so much fun, so much freedom to try things out, to improvise, to just see what they came up with and it gave him the urge to write again. If it was for him, he would already do prequels, sequels and spin-offs with Mobius. He just loved it. He loved playing Mobius.

It really had done him so damn good. 

Owen contorted his face. 

So why?

Just why the fuck had it to be like this?

He heard someone coming. 

Saw Tom looking for him…  

With a bottle of beer in his hand. With a concerned look on his face.

“Hey…” 

With his fucking soft voice that Owen loved so much. 

“Everything alright? I don’t… I don’t want to bother you when you want to be alone. I was just… worried.” 

Being as sweet and caring and polite as always.

And it hurt Owen deep down in his chest. 

“No.. no, you don’t. I just… “ He didn’t know what to say.  

He just knew that he didn’t want Tom to leave.

“Can I sit down?” Tom asked carefully. 

Yes, please. “Sure.”

So Tom sat down next to him, looking at him with big questioning eyes. 

Yeah.. he should probably explain something. 

“I’m sorry… Tom.” Owen began. “I…”

He hated it. “I’m a mess...”

But Tom just looked at him compassionately and waited, so Owen continued. 

“I… have problems… sometimes.. mental problems… So I get sad sometimes… when I’m supposed to be… happy… when I am happy… It is some kind of dysfunction in my head. Like.. Well, like the happy clown gets sad…”

He sighed.

“And I’m really sorry… Because I guess.. you have expected something else… tonight… But I’m not good for you… I guess, I’m not good for anybody when I’m like this…” 

Tom squinted his eyes and pressed his lips together as if he was disagreeing but trying not to say anything. So Owen emphasized his point.

“I just can’t… give you what you want. I wish I could. But I just can’t.” 

He shook his head and looked down at the floor because he just didn’t know why he actually couldn’t.  

“I know this is hard to understand…” He knew how fucking stupid this all sounded. Why don’t you just do it if you want to? What’s the problem? They always say… 

He closed his eyes, feeling ashamed of himself.

“I do understand…” he heard Tom say softly.

Owen lifted his head to look at him. He was looking right back at him, with so much compassion in his eyes, and he continued speaking. Quietly. 

“Well, I don’t know… I mean everybody feels different, everybody has different… problems.. challenges… I don’t get sad when I’m happy.. But I do know what the sad side of a clown feels like… or actually more the sad side of a circus bear… which I am… Or was… I don’t know…”

Owen had to laugh a little at that. “Tom, the circus bear… Sounds like a cute children’s book.”

Tom smiled. “Yeah… .  I don’t know. Maybe it’s some kind of ADHD,” he shrugged his shoulders, “… but I’ve always done what people wanted me to do. And people wanted me to do really stupid things… . And I just did them. I loved the attention, I loved being liked… and to be loved… so I did more and more without really knowing why… And it really took me a long time to realize that…" he looked at the ceiling lost in thoughts, "I have worked constantly for 6 years in a row… I’ve sort of done every movie they offered me.. I have no idea how many interviews I gave during that time… how many stupid things I did… and all that just to not sit in that bear cage after the show…. And feel lonely and redundant…”

Owen felt his heart ache hearing all this. He didn't dare to breathe, didn't want to break this fragile bubble that they had somehow built here.

“And at some point I really lost it, I got so tired of it all… But you’re stuck in this wheel … " Tom’s hand made a circle," and you don’t know how to get out of it… I didn’t know who I am or what I wanted…” he sighed and nibbled at the label of his bottle. “I think I’m better now. Know how to take all this. But this doesn’t make me immune, you know. It will always be there…”

He took a deep breath, straightening up his back and looking directly at Owen.

“I’m sorry… I don’t want to be whining here.. I just want you to know that I know how it feels to be sad… when from the outside looking in... it seems that you don’t have any reason to.” 

Owen was deeply touched.

“Thank you…” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me…”

Tom gave him a reassuring look.

And then he got this Hang-on-I-have-to-think-about-something look on his face. 

Owen loved thinking-Tom. 

Watching Tom think always made Owen feel like a little kid at Christmas that couldn’t wait to see what was in the box. A quote? An adorable metaphor? 

“So… If you’re unhappy because you were happy…” Tom began. 

And Owen immediately loved how Tom had changed his voice to a more chatty and juvenile tone. 

“It’s sounds quite awful when I have to think that I am the one making you unhappy, so I’m going to reverse it: You being unhappy … does it mean that you like me… ” he gave Owen a challenging look. “…a little more… than a little?” 

Owen laughed. He shrugged his shoulders mockingly and showed a little space between his thumb and his index finger. “Yeah.. maybe a little more.”

But Tom didn’t seem to mind the mockery because he looked at Owen severely and said -  in his soft voice again -, “I can wait then.”

Owen didn’t know what to feel, he smiled a small smile but it came from deep in his heart and he hoped Tom would notice. 

“Thank you.”

Somehow he wished Tom would just grab him and kiss him. 

But it wouldn’t be Tom if he crossed the line. It wouldn’t be Tom if he didn’t respect him and his condition. 

And as much as Owen wished he would cross it, it showed him two things. 

One, that Tom was even more damn lovable. 

And two, that he himself was the one who needed to free himself out of there. Nobody else could. 

But he was determined to do it.  

He had to get better soon, if for no other reason than he could finally kiss Tom. His favorite Brit with his nonexistent lips. 

And now, now he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Tom. Held him close. And he was fucking glad that he could do it.  

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. 

“Don’t feel bad about it…,” Tom whispered back. “I want you to know that I don’t expect anything... And just as you are, you are good for me.” 

Tom’s word were soothing, his voice was soothing, Tom was soothing. Like he had been from the start.

“Thank you,” Owen said again and because he couldn’t resist, he added, “my little circus bear.”

Tom snorted. “Don’t! Just don’t!”

Owen grinned. “Yeah, I thought you are more of a pussycat anyway.”

And even he knew it would take some time before he felt right again, before he felt carefree again, he was fucking glad. 

That Tom had somehow turned this fucking sad situation in something lighter and beautiful. 

And that Tom had shown him a spark at the end of a hopefully not so long tunnel.

*

#hiddlewow #widdlewow #tom hiddleston/owen wilson #rpf #the fool on the hill #chapter 7

[yoongis-eggslut]

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Apparently Min Yoongi hasn’t been doing enough to get your attention on a MV shoot.

Word Count: 6.8K

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), light nipple play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t take sex advice from Tumblr smut), slight scratching kink, name calling kink, unnamed noona kink (noona is never used, but reader is a noona), Suga’s not quite himself because he’s trying to impress Reader, Suga also likes the word “fuck” a LOT

A/N: Sweet and protective Yoongi does it for me but so does “grab you and fuck you” Yoongi, so this is like a mild swirl of the two. I tried to be as unspecific about the reader as possible. Also, the smut is in P2 if that’s what you’re here for and it’s like…3K words of sweet smutty goodness.

Part One | Part Two

*******

The heat of the day is subsiding as sunset nears and you’re just wondering if you’ll be able to sneak in a nap anytime soon when the director starts stressing out and the mood of the entire shoot tenses. Clouds are coming in and he’s losing the light faster than he’d anticipated. Everyone scrambles to press forward with the shoot, but before you can get to it everyone’s phones go off. An emergency alert has been issued, a storm is moving in and a flash flood warning has been issued for your area.

“Shit!” the director shouts, glaring at the sky. You bite your lip and wait for his direction, sighing internally as he has everyone pack up the sets as quick as they can to get any vulnerable equipment safely stored.

Talent is whisked away to their trailers and you work alongside the rest of the crew to get everything safe. By the time the first crack of the storm trickles in the crew has pretty much secured everything. You’re straggling behind in one of the tents, double checking the equipment to make sure everything is covered when you hear the distinctive sound of rain begin to ping off the tarp. Mere moments later, it’s a deluge. Your eyes widen as you stand inside the tent, out of reach of the rain but surprised at the force with which the wind is whipping up. You watch for a few minutes more, fascinated, but soon you’re retreating further into the tent to try and find shelter from the wind. You find a large metal case that’s been padded with a moving blanket and hop on top of it. A moment later you’re hopping off to see if you can find something to block the wind. You shift some cases around, trying to create some sort of cubby you can hunker down in until the rain lightens up enough to give you a chance to run to the main crew shelter where everyone else is.

As you’re standing there scratching your head, trying to play Tetris with large cases of equipment, you hear a muted voice through the downpour. Turning, your jaw drops as you see a drenched Suga enter the tent, a frown etched on his face.

“Aigoo, there you are. Everyone’s been looking for you. Come on.” He takes you by the elbow and pulls you out of the tent. You duck your head as the rain starts to pelt you, trusting that Suga can see where he’s leading you as you keep your eyes on your feet, trying to avoid the worst of the rain hitting your face.

Shortly he’s pulling you up to a trailer, yanking open the door as a series of muttered curses fall from his lips and he pushes you in front of him, getting you inside. Your first thought is that it’s blessedly warm and you wrap your arms around yourself, turning to watch him stomp his way up the steps, getting the mud off his boots before stepping inside.

You look down guiltily at your own muddy boots, and then look up at his grumpy face as he shakes water out of his bangs and brushes them out of his eyes.

“Sorry.” You say, standing stock still so you don’t get mud anywhere else.

He doesn’t say anything, distracted as he pulls his phone out of his inner coat pocket and dials someone while simultaneously reaching out to shift you further into the trailer, setting you down at a table just inside the door while he sits on the other side and bends over to remove his boots, phone to his ear.

“Yeah, I found her.” His tone is casual now, and you relax slightly at the absence of any noticeable grumpiness in his tone.

“No, she was in one of the perimeter tents so it was quicker to get to the trailers on our side.”

You blink and look around, noticing for the first time that you’re in one of the private trailers reserved for talent. Behind you is a small kitchen, in front of you is a bed and at the end of the trailer is a bathroom and a tiny closet, maybe? Your eyes return to Suga as you focus back on his call.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Is everyone else in?” Suga’s up now, tossing his dirty boots towards the door and sliding into a pair of slippers. Again, you look down at your feet, feeling guilty and sort of like you’re in trouble. You hadn’t realized anyone would come looking for you, but clearly this had been some sort of ordeal.

After a few more words, Suga rings off his call and turns to you, his face gentle now.

“Aish, here…” he kneels down and starts tugging at your boots.

“I’m sorry…” you repeat, “here, I can get that…” you trail off as his hands wave yours away. You watch, embarrassed as he works the knots of your shoelaces loose and tugs your boots open enough for you to slip your feet out. He takes them and tosses them next to his, rising to move to the back of the trailer and root through his luggage.

“Here.” He plops a spare pair of sandals down at your feet and places a fresh hoodie on the table next to you. “Stand up, your clothes are wet.”

“I’ll be fine…” you slip the sandals on and stand in spite of yourself. “Suga, you’re soaked. Get a towel or something first…”

He tuts at you and pulls at the sleeves of your hoodie, indicating you should slip it off. You unzip it and place it carefully over the back of the chair and then turn to accept the hoodie he’s holding out, slipping it over your head. You shiver a little as the extra warmth seeps into your skin and wrap your arms back around yourself before looking up at him.

“Ok, I’m warm. Now you.”

He hums…hums? You think to yourself. He hums, inexplicably, as if he’s cheerful now and then turns towards the back of the trailer again, slipping off his coat as he goes, hanging it in the small closet. Underneath he’s wearing a simple black t-shirt and you have to blink at the favors it’s doing for his arms and shoulders. Your eyes travel down to his tapered waist and you make yourself turn and sit before you look too closely at whether or not his jeans are working for him as well as his shirt seems to be.

Trying to be polite, you stare at your feet and wiggle your toes in his too-large slippers, only looking up when you can see him moving back towards you in your periphery. He’s still in the t-shirt, and you mentally curse because he’s rubbing a small towel through his hair and it’s excellently showing off his bicep. You make a face and look down again, trying to adjust to the fact that you’re stranded with…Suga…in a…trailer…

Your face flushes as your train of thought reminds you of your conversation earlier. How fucking eerie was that? You fight the urge to laugh as you think of the expression on your friends face when you tell her you actually ended up stranded and alone with Yoongi on the very day you said you’d fuck him if it ever happened. She’d think it was so funny.

“What’s funny?” Yoongi asks, tossing the towel on the table next to you and sitting down.

“Hm?” You stall, your eyebrows going up and the smile snapping off your face.

“It looked like you were thinking of something funny.” He says.

“Oh, no, just…funny circumstances, I guess.” You give him a quick closed lipped smile. “Thank you, by the way. How did you find me?”

“I looked.” He says simply.

You scrunch your nose at him, displeased with his glib answer. “Is everyone else ok? Was I the only one still out there?”

“Yep.” Is all he says.

This time you throw a frown in with your scrunched nose, but it doesn’t last because he gives you a brilliant gummy smile. He’s leaning with his elbows on the table, his damp bangs casually tossed to one side of his face and you’re suddenly self-conscious about the intimacy of this entire situation.

Before you know it, you’re standing up and moving past him, crossing your arms across your chest as you bend slightly to look out of the window at the rain. It’s still coming down fairly hard. You rub at the glass with a sweater paw to clear some of the fog and try and make out how muddy the ground is now. It wasn’t looking good for the planned night shoot.

It’s still and quiet in the trailer, the only sound the persistent rain. You glance over at Suga and he’s turned halfway in his seat, one elbow still on the table, the other draped over the chair. He’s looking at you with a level gaze, his deep cat eyes unmoving as a shiver runs down your spine that doesn’t come from the cold.

You straighten up. “What?”

He continues to look at you, observing you almost lazily. You raise your eyebrows, emphasizing the question still lingering in the air.

“You look cute in my hoodie.”

Your face flushes immediately and you look away, back out the foggy window towards the rain.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, your mind blanking at the compliment. You continue to stare out of the window until you can’t take it anymore, and you look back over at Suga, who is still in the exact same position, his gaze still unnervingly direct.

“Stop it.” You say, trying to hide the shy smile that betrays your face as you look down at your crossed arms.

“Stop what?” Suga asks, and by his tone you can tell that little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You’re talking to the window, your breath slightly fogging it even further.

“What am I looking at you like?” he challenges softly.

You don’t want to admit what he’s looking at you like, so you remain silent. You remain silent when you hear him get up from his seat. You remain silent as he walks towards you. You remain silent when he puts his finger under your chin and guides your face towards him.

“Look at me.” He murmurs.

“No.” you answer, stubborn and bashful about what he’s going to be able to see in your face if you look him in the eye.

He murmurs your name and you glance up instinctively. He takes advantage and pulls your chin further up, towards his face, so you can’t look away again.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He says, and you don’t think it’s possible but the heat on your face intensifies.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, still holding your chin but waiting for your consent.

You bite your lips together trying to suppress a grin but fail, flinching to look down again. His gentle grip persists, and he shakes your chin lightly. “Hmm?” he asks again.

“You’re making me feel shy.” You finally murmur, breaking out into a bashful grin and escaping his grasp as you tuck your chin into your shoulder.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, hands at his sides, tone still gentle and matching yours for softness.

You consider for a moment and then shake your head.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

You look up, eyes wide, and can hardly keep your gaze on his at the intensity you find there. His hand goes to the side of your face, his thumb rubbing gentle circles along your jawline.

“Fine.” You sigh, “Please kiss me.”

He moves towards your face slowly. Too slowly, almost as payback for making him wait so long. By the time his lips are within reach it’s you who leans up to meet him, brushing against his mouth softly, reveling in the feel of his plush lips against yours. His grip on your face slides down to your neck and he pulls you slightly towards him, mouth opening against yours to deepen the kiss.

By the time you break apart your breath is coming a little heavier and he’s got a smirk on his face.

“What is that look for?” you ask, voice closer to normal now that the initial tension is broken.

“That took way too fucking long for you to admit.” He grins.

You scrunch your nose again. “Shut up…” you mumble, even as you’re letting him pull your face back to his.

Your hands wrap around his torso as his tongue continues it’s exploration of your mouth. Your fingers tangle slightly in his t-shirt and he pulls you closer to him. His hands work their way down your shoulders, smoothing across you until they settle into the small of your back, gripping the material of his own sweatshirt as he holds you in place close to him.

He breaks the kiss and trails little nips along your jawline before whispering in your ear.

“I want you so fucking much.”

The admission sends a tiny tremor through you, he feels it through his lips as he presses them into the hollow under your ear.

Your hands move up his chest and snake around his neck, one hand burying itself in his hair as the other reaches for his jawline. You guide his face back towards your mouth, eager for more kisses.  

“Yoongi…” there’s a slight moan in the way you say his name, and his instant reaction is to haul you even tighter against his body as he attacks your mouth with his.

“Fuck…” he growls. “Say it again.”

“Yoongi.” You full on moan this time, feeling the full length of his body pressed against you. You’re standing on your toes, pressing against him as much as he’s pulling you to him, arms tight around his shoulders. He’s bunching up the sweatshirt you’re wearing, his warm palms pressing flat against the bare skin of your back, and you feel your entire body begin to prickle with heat.

He’s gripping you tightly and you’re letting out tiny sighs and moans that are beginning to drive him crazy.

“C’mere…” he says, breaking the kiss to spin you around the tiny space and push you against the foot of the bed. You’re laying down before you know it, and he’s crawling on top of you, pulling your sweatshirt up as he goes. You raise your arms and he pulls it all the way over your head, pausing to push your shirt up and over as well before he tosses both items carelessly to the side.

You pull him towards you and wrap your arms around him, gripping through his shirt, feeling the planes of muscle along his back. He grinds against you and you groan, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

He buries his face in your neck, his breathing heavy as he kisses his way up to your ear. “Say my name again. I fucking love hearing you say my name.”

You hardly need any coaxing to comply. “Yoongi…” you breathe against his ear as he peppers your neck with kisses, sucking gently.

You both writhe against each other, setting a slow rhythm. In spite of all the heavy breathing his kisses are leisurely, deep and slow. His lips spend every second exploring you, ravishing your mouth and nibbling on you, his hands working their way into your hair as he holds your face to his. Soon you’re tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up and over his wide shoulders before he pulls away and tugs it off entirely. He returns to you and your hands smooth over his back, nails lightly scratching along his spine. You can feel him shudder as you reach the dimples on his lower back, his thrust into you a little sharper. You smile into his kiss and dig your nails a little deeper, dragging them up his back. He lets out the tiniest moan into your mouth, hips jerking into yours again, before pulling himself off of you enough to tug your arms around and pin your wrists above your head.

“You’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He rasps into your neck, and you smile again, lifting your hips a little to swirl against his groin.

“Really?” you kiss along his neck, “You like it that much?”

He growls and tackles your neck again, this time moving his mouth lower, sucking lightly on your collarbone, working his way down the center of your chest to bury his face in your cleavage. He licks a line along your breast, tracing the edge of your bra, before gently biting it, tugging with his teeth a little.

“Off.” He raises his eyes to yours and you smirk a little. He releases your wrists as you rise up on your elbows to unclasp your bra, and his eyes go practically feral at the sight of your bare breasts. His large hands splay across your back as he pulls you up and you arch into him as his mouth closes around a hardened nipple. You anchor your hands on his shoulders as he sucks and bites, laving his tongue across your breasts, eyes flicking up to watch your expression through his lashes as he flicks across your sensitive buds.

You’re letting out little tremulous breaths, moaning softly at the stimulation that’s going straight to your core. He lowers you back to the bed and raises himself up just enough to take in the sight of you, your eyes clouded over with lust as they meet his, your lips swollen from his kisses. Licking his bottom lip, he moves one hand to softly pet at your nipple before he levels one last dark look at you and begins kissing further down your body. He nips small bites along your rib cage, down to your bellybutton. He reaches the band of your shorts and makes quick work of undoing them, tugging them impatiently down your hips.

Part of you knows you should stop him, but fuck, you know you’re not going to. Your pussy is throbbing, you feel like you’ve soaked through your shorts, so you wait as you hear his softly whispered “Oh, fuck…” as he pulls both your shorts and underwear down your thighs and off your legs, tossing them into the increasingly large pile of clothes in the corner.

There’s no hesitation as he grabs your thighs and spreads them, pressing them into the bed, his eyes focused on how wet you are. You’re so turned on your hips are already thrusting lightly, searching for relief. You bite back a moan, chewing on your lower lip when you feel his thumbs caress up your thighs and spread you apart, rubbing along the edges of your pussy, sending small pulses to your clit that aren’t nearly enough stimulation.

“Yoongi…” you whine, and you reach a hand down to play with your clit. His eyes widen and he licks his lips as he watches you toy with your little nub, juices gushing out of your hole as your hips writhe in front of him.

“Fuck, keep touching yourself. Put your finger inside.” His voice is low and demanding and it feels so good you have no problem obeying. You slip your middle finger inside your pussy, alternating between pumping it in and rubbing your slick around the sensitive rim. After a few moments, just as you’re starting to focus more on your clit as the pleasure in your core tightens, you feel Yoongi’s hand stop you.

“Let me.” He rasps, and the next moment his mouth is on you, his tongue tracing the same path you’d been tracing, only it was so much better.

“Oh my god…” you breathe, using one hand to grip the sheets and anchor you to the bed while burying the other in his hair. The slick, wet noises he’s coaxing out of your pussy have you arching your back and riding his face as he makes you gush more. He moves to wrap his arms around your thighs, holding you down, holding your legs wide open for him as he licks and sucks harder into your core.

“FUCK! FUCK! YOONGI!” You call out, “Don’t stop!!” His lips seal over you as his tongue moves rapidly over your clit and you feel that familiar pulse begin before your whole body is shaking, riding out the force of your orgasm with gasping breaths and arching your back so hard you feel like it might break.

Your breathing is heavy and your limbs are weak as your orgasm recedes. Your focus is hazy as Yoongi wipes his mouth with the back of his fingers and sits up between your legs, ruffling his hair, his chest heaving.

“You like that?” he asks, and you’re so fucked out you don’t even have it in you to resent how cocky his tone is.

“Mmm…” is all you can slur, eyes closing and trying to focus on your breathing.

You feel him climb his way up your body, gently kissing along your skin before he’s hovering back over you, running a hand through your hair and speaking to you in his low, sexy voice.

“You’re so sexy.” He whispers, kissing the side of your face.

“Hmm, you’re not too bad, yourself.” You smile, feeling your body return to normal bit by bit. You open your eyes and look over at him, looking at you so tenderly, still running his hand through your hair, trying to pretend his raging erection wasn’t still pressing into your thigh through his pants.

“You can kiss me if you want.” You say softly, and he lowers his mouth to yours without hesitation. You can taste yourself on him a little, but mostly you still taste him. His lips have felt amazing every time they connect with yours.

You twist your body a little, wrapping a leg around his thigh and gently pulling him on top of you. He lets you, continuing to kiss you deeply as your hand trails down his body and you tug at his belt. He lifts his hips and you undo the buckle, popping open the button of his pants and sliding your hand down to cup him through his boxers.

He lets out a slight moan as you continue to massage him, wrapping your thighs around his hips and gently scratching along his back again with your free hand.

“Don’t forget what I told you…” he murmurs as his hips buck against your hand.

“Hmm, I have not.” You assert, and then you’re hooking your fingers into his pants and tugging them down his hips. He sits up to help you and you watch him between your legs, biting your bottom lip as he slides his pants and his boxers down and his cock springs free.

You feel the wet between your legs heat up as he rises and pushes his pants all the way down. He climbs back between your legs and sees your bottom lip still caught in your teeth.

He crawls his way back up your body. “You want this, baby?”

The feel of him fully naked against you is exquisite, and you nod as you wrap your arms around him, legs still splayed open under him, hands carding through his hair, caressing their way down his neck. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours for a few breaths, very gently rutting against you. He covers your mouth with his as his hand moves down to grip his cock, rubbing it against your folds a few times before pushing into you.

You can’t help the moan that comes out of you, but he’s there to swallow it. Once he’s fully in he braces himself above you on both arms and his head goes down as he begins to pump in and out, slowly, the same pace he was going as you were making out earlier.

“Fuck…” you whisper, grabbing his face and pulling it up to look at how perfect he was as he lost himself in you. “Yoongi, you feel so good…” You close your eyes before you can see him open his, his expression hazy and lust filled as he takes in how gorgeous you look with your eyelashes fanned out across your cheeks, face contorted in bliss from how good he was making you feel. He moves his head down to kiss you again, both of your lips full and beginning to feel tender from the way you’ve been hungrily going at each other.

“Faster.” He hears you murmur as he feels your legs wrap around him tighter. “Faster, please, Yoongi.”

Your nails scrape down his back and that’s more than enough to send him bucking into you, almost losing himself from having held back for so long.

“Ah, ah, ah…you feel so fucking good.” He moans, head buried in your neck. And then you hear him quietly breathe, “Harder.”

You grip his shoulders tightly and place a small, quick bite on his shoulder before you’re raking your nails down his spine and he’s throwing his head back, crying out as his hips snap harder into yours, sounds smacking loudly around the trailer.

He’s fucking you hard into the bed, his pace relentless as you keep scratching up and down his back, digging your nails into his ass, crying out as he pistons his hips into you. Suddenly he slows down with a groan, changing the rhythm but he’s going deeper, pressing harder into you, and you’re both making obscene noises that would leave no doubt about what you were doing in the trailer if the pounding rain weren’t drowning out the noise.

He swirls his hips and you see stars for a second. He does it again and you can’t help but buck up into him, seeking more contact with his pelvis as you feel your own release approach again. Fuck, was he going to make you cum twice? Most guys had trouble making you cum even once.

“Ahhhh, fuck…” he’s gasping above you and you’re begging him not to stop, repeatedly calling his name, telling him how good it feels. He reaches down and rubs at your clit and it only takes a minute before you’re coming again, arching up against him and digging your nails into his back.

“Fuck, fuck…” he says, past the point where he’s able to speak coherently as he pulls out of you and gives himself the last few jerks he needs before he’s coming on your stomach, his beautiful face twisted in ecstasy before he collapses beside you, catching his breath.

It’s a few moments of nothing but the two of you breathing heavily, blissed out and in your own worlds as your bodies thrum with the activity you just put them through. With the rain drumming on the roof you honestly feel like you could go to sleep, although compared to the nap you were coveting earlier this was by far the superior option.

Yoongi rolls to his side and kisses you before getting up, walking bare-assed around the bed into the bathroom. You lazily appreciate the view, stretching a little. He emerges with a towel, tenderly leaning over the bed to clean you off.

“That,” he intones in an almost conversational manner, “was fucking amazing.”

You laugh. “It was. I was just thinking all I’d wanted from this afternoon was a nap.”

“This was better?” he grins, getting up to toss the towel back into the bathroom and returning to pull you over to him as he leaned against the pillows. You spooned him, tracing light circles on his chest as you nodded.

“Mmm-hmm.” You kiss his shoulder, “Much better than I’d had planned.”

Yoongi laughs and kisses your forehead, eyes beginning to feel heavy as he stares at the ceiling, listening to the softening pings of the rain begin to lull him to sleep. “Especially because I definitely still remember your name.”

You huff out a laugh too before the reality of what he’d just said hits you.

“Wait, what?” You say, head shooting off his chest.

Yoongi stiffens, and above you his face goes white.

Whoops.  

“Ah…” he pauses.

“Min Yoongi!! You were listening to my conversation??” you scold, your soft caressing of his chest replaced by irate smacks.

“Aish, aggh…” he twists in defense, hands shooting out to restrain your arms before you can do any more damage.

Having properly subdued your physical attack, he pauses for a second as his laughing eyes meet your incredulous ones.

“In my defense…” he begins, raising an eyebrow cheekily, “my dick has been incredibly hard ever since I heard you admit you wanted to fuck me. Speaking of which…” he gives your arms a yank and and you gasp in indignation as you fall on top of him, “I believe I owe you a trip to a cabin?”

You swear if it weren’t for how cocky and pleased with himself his gummy smile broadcasted, you’d seriously consider murdering him.

#bts smut #min yoongi #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #bts suga #bts suga smut #bts suga x reader #bts x reader #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader