#and it's all very stressful on top of the absolute mess at my current job | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

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𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐱/𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝)

Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

Hongjoong was already frustrated. He was on a deadline to finish up a song and he was nowhere near even getting halfway. Eden had just recently scolded him and he felt extremely agitated and irritated at this point.

"Hey Joong? I brought you lunch so-"

"Just leave it on the table, I'll eat it later." He cut you off rather sharply, barely even sparing you a glance.

"I was actually thinking we could eat together." You were off put by his short temper.

"I don't have time Y/N." He huffed out, a hand running through his hair.

You were pissed at this point and were not about to take his crap anymore.

"Exactly! You don't have time for me anymore! I get your job demands a lot of your time, but to not even take a break and enjoy just 10 minutes without....these." You gestured to all the mess scattered around his desk.

Hurt about being reminded about his neglect of you yet angry at being scolded once more, Hongjoong slammed his hands on the table, swiftly pushing off the chair before going over to where you were standing and stared you down.

"All right. Fine. 10 minutes you say? I can work with that."

Without a warning, he pushed you onto the couch, making a quick work of your pants and stripping them off you. You let out a sharp cry when he began devouring your pussy, animalistic growls spilling out his lips as he slurped you up as if he'd been starved. When you tried pulling away, he landed a harsh slap on your clit, making your hips jolt up and a shriek come out.

"Shut up and take what I give you you needy desperate whore. You wanted 10 minutes? Let's see how many times I can make you cum in that time."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

Hearing the front door slam, Seonghwa brace himself for yet another one of your moods after a long day at work. Wanting to help your day be less stressful, he had prepared you some of your favorites food.

"Y/N." He called out to you in a sing song tone.

Stomping over, you just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, total resting bitch face plastered on.

"I made your favorite." He happily told you, but you still didn't seem to bat an eyelash at him, you simply turned around and began walking out.

"Wait Y/N come on. Here at least try some. It'll help you with your stress-"

"Can't you take a damn hint Seonghwa?! I don't fucking want it!"

When he tried to approach you with a spoonful of food, you actually snapped and slapped it out of his hand, making it stain his perfectly polished floor. Seonghwa looked at it then looked back at you.

"You know Y/N I think I put up with your bratty attitude and bitchy behavior for too long."

You gasped sharply when he suddenly turned you around and slammed you up against the table, grabbing your arms so he could hold them behind your back.

"Maybe I've been a little too nice to you....making you baths, preparing you food, all in hopes of helping you release stress....but its clear a little bitch like you doesn't need that."

You squirmed under his grasp, trying to get free but with no use as his grip was tight on you. The sound of him unbuckling his belt made you stop moving entirely, and you shivered when pulled your skirt up before ripping your tights and pushing your underwear to the side.

"Clearly a bitch like you needs a good pounding, fuck that attitude right out of you."

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You knew you were screwed the instant Yunho roughly pulled you off Mingi's lap and took you into his room, shutting the door right behind him before staring at you with fire burning through his eyes. You had never seen him so mad before.

No soon afterwards, you were currently on top of him, his hips bucking up at you at a relentless pace that had you screaming his name over and over again. His hands were practically digging into your skin, holding tightly onto you with such ferocity.

"Look at you, being so desperate for a good fuck that you'd actually try and whore yourself out to my best friend like a cheap bitch."

When one of his hands came up to grasp at your throat, you were shivering on top of him.

"Weren't you?! What! Is my cock not enough for you? My cock and these hands you love so much not satisfying you anymore? Hmm? Is that why you were all cuddled up to Mingi? Hoped he'd actually take pity and fuck you?"

You knew it wasn't your intention to make him jealous, but god if this is what jealousy did to him, you would totally do it again.

"Stupid slut. Mingi's not going to fuck you. You're just a dirty, filthy hole, he doesn't want you...."

Even after you came, you were still a crying mess as Yunho kept fucking up into you, not caring that you were beyond your limit, your inner thighs getting sore.

"But you're my little hole for me to fuck. Got it? And if I need to fuck you dumb to get it through that stupid useless brain of yours to understand that only I can make you feel this good, then so be it. I'll fuck you til you break, my little sex toy."

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Yeosang was not very pleased by your behavior lately. You had been giving him the silent treatment and avoiding him for no good reason. Trying to coax what was wrong out of you, he came up behind you as you were washing dishes.

"How's my little princess? Did you have a good day?"

He was only met with you elbowing him in the rib and shoved him off you.

"Ok seriously Y/N? What did I even do? Stop being so childish and talk to me like a mature adult."

Hearing you scoff and seeing you roll your eyes at him made him furious and irritated with you. As you tried to walk past him, he grabbed your elbow and picked you up, setting you down on the kitchen counter as his eyes burned a hole through you.

"If you're going to keep acting like a brat, maybe I should just treat you like one then."

You don't know if you truly regret breaking Yeosang's patience. On the one hand, you were definitely not going to be walking straight for a week. On the other, you utterly enjoyed having your face pressed against the pillow, ass up as Yeosang was shoving his dick in and out of you, red handprints scattered across your butt cheeks and hands tied behind your back with one of his ties. Everytime you tried to hide your face in the pillow to muffle your screams, he'd yank your hair up.

"I said I wasn't having you ignore me anymore princess. Now come on, scream my name. I want this entire floor to hear your pathetic whimpers."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San looked at you with an unamused gaze.

"Repeat what you just said.....I dare you to."

He was pissed off, it was more than clear. But maybe that's what you wanted, wanted him to be as pissed as you were, even just a bit of what you were feeling. It's not that you meant to take out your jealousy on him, but seeing his co-host be extremely clingy towards him backstage and he never did anything about it made your blood boil.

"I said you're nothing more than a fucking horn dog. Probably let that skank suck your dick." You exclaimed in disgust.

The sudden slam of his hand against the wall behind you both scared and thrilled you. Looking at you with a hungry smirk, he opened the door behind you, trapping you inside a closet. In minutes, he was pressing you against the wall, his frantic grunts mixing with your whimpered cries. San would occasionally let out a sadistic laugh at how wrecked you look.

"You're right baby, I am indeed a horn dog. Absolutely love getting my dick wet and fuck a pussy all the time."

Hand reaching between your legs, he began to harshly pinch and rub at your clit, his other hand that was holding onto your hip keeping you from collapsing on the floor as your orgasm took over you.

"But get this straight: I only fuck this pussy right here. Ok? I fucking claimed this a long ass time ago and I'll fuck it whenever I want to."

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Ending the call with your friend, you were coming out of the bedroom when you were suddenly shoved back inside by none other than your usually caring and sweet boyfriend, who looked angry as he closed the door behind him.

"Mingi? What-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as his large hands cupped your cheeks, his long body pushing you back until you landed on the bed. He was kissing you harshly, nothing like the usual tender and loving kisses he'd be known to give you. His hands clutched at your covered breasts, groping at them before he unexpectedly tore your shirt in the middle.

"Mingi! What has gotten into you?!" You exclaimed in shock at his sudden change in behavior.

"I heard you talking to your friend. Saying shit like I'm too soft and vanilla for you."

You moaned out when he began to suck along your neck, his hands cupping your bra and pulling it down enough to have your breasts spill out.

"Oh princess if only you knew I've just been holding back all this time."

With a taunting chuckle, he pulled of you. Undoing his zipper, he began to strip out of his jeans and briefs, letting his long cock spring free, precum leaking at the tip.

"I didn't want to be selfish and break you like I wanted too....... but if that's what you want well then, I'd be happy to oblige my little princess."

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

Neither of you knew how it started nor exactly how it escalated. One minute Wooyoung was being the annoying shit he was, with you playfully shoving him away and calling him names, and then the next you were both pushing each other rather abruptly. When you called him a particularly degrading insult, he retaliated likewise and now it seemed like a screaming match between you two.

"You know what? This is fucking stupid!" You hollered and turned away, making a bee line towards your room.

"I'm not done yet!" Wooyoung trailed after you.

"Well I am! Now excuse me, I'm going to go take a shower and hopefully cool off this rage." You stated firmly before slamming the bathroom door right in his face.

The refreshing water seemed to calm you down a little, so you just stood there under the shower head, just letting your body soak in the cold. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you failed to notice Wooyoung had entered the bathroom and didn't realize it until you felt his arms turn you around to face him. No explanation, he just began kissing you, his tongue taking control over your mouth while one hand hiked one of your legs over his waist.

"Still think I'm an annoying bastard?" He grunted fiercely as he thrusted up into you, not giving you time to react as he began pounding into you.

"Yes you are!" You hissed at him, hands swooping his wet hair and tugging at it rather hardly.

He just looked at you with a shit eating grin.

"Yet you still let me fuck you. "

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You were frustrated and stressed out, so was Jongho. Even as you two did your own little things inside the apartment, even the smallest things either of you did made the other let out an annoyed huff. It all culminated when Jongho accidentally spilled his cup of juice on the floor, that little action had you both looking at each other with near contempt.

"I feel like punching something." Jongho confessed.

"Me too." You admitted.

"Wanna punch me?" He offered.

Smirking at him, you thought about something better.

"No.... I think I'd rather fuck you."

So now here you were, underneath your inhumanely strong boyfriend, his cock balls deep inside you, your legs thrown over his shoulders while his hands were already leaving bruises around your inner thighs from how hard he was squeezing at them. You two had already cum several times but you still kept going, pushing past your sensitivity as you both still had a lot of rage and energy to release.

In a particularly sharp angle of his hips, you were quivering under Jongho, for the first time you were actually squirting under him.

"Oh fuck!" Seeing you break down and make a mess all over him and yourself had him cumming soon after, his body collapsing on top of yours.

Both of you were beyond exhausted after all that. Your bodies were so sticky with sweat and your breathing had not yet returned to normal. Looking over at you, Jongho smiled sincerely for the first time in days.

"So.... now that we got that out of the way.... can we cuddle?"

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez headcanons

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aggressive-positivity-network · 4 years ago

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Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

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makeste · 5 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK��S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

#bnha 292 #best jeanist #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #hadou nejire #toogata mirio #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago

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Cherries And Wine.

Sugar Baby!Seb x CEO!Reader

Requested.

Run-through: You meet a handsome young man at a bar, and together you embark on a somewhat unusual but exciting journey.

Themes: smut, fluff, sugarbaby!seb, age gap

“We don’t have to do anything too… risqué, if you’re not comfortable with it.” You said with a soft smile, then proceeded to sip on your red wine.

Sebastian smirked, setting his glass of cherry liqueur down and leaned back in his seat. “And what if I am absolutely comfortable with that?” he asked, his hands itching to touch you already.

You chuckled, “Well, you can have anything you want.”

You had met Sebastian in this very bar a few nights ago. He was shamelessly flirting with you, despite the age gap. So you exchanged numbers and texted for a few days, then decided to meet up again tonight. He was younger, and freshly out of university and currently job hunting. And you were financially stable, owner of your flourishing company and somewhat in need of a companion – but nothing too serious.

So you and Sebastian made an agreement; whereby you would take care of all his needs in exchange for his company.

Sebastian was quite interesting. Playful and sarcastic, but also sweet. And just after the first week together, you found out that you loved spending time with him. With him, and all his terrible jokes; you forgot all about work and the stressful days you had.

You paid off his student loans and got him his dream car within the next few weeks and he wouldn’t stop thanking you.

“Hey,” you cupped his face gently and stepped in between his legs as he sat on the edge of your desk in your office. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist. “That’s what I’m here for. To take care of you.” You explained, again, and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When you pulled away to look at him again, he gave you the biggest smile ever and pulled you in for a hug. He pushed his face into the crook of your neck and mumbled a ‘thank you’ again. You slid your hand into his hair and kissed the side of his head.

“Anything else you want?” you asked softly, just as you had the habit of asking him all the time.

Sebastian pulled away and smiled, “You.” he answered and leaned in for a kiss immediately. You kissed him back. He tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer. You giggled through the kiss. He deepened the kiss and bit your lip.

You pulled away after a while and saw the hunger in his eyes. “Well you’re gonna have to wait. I have a meeting in a few minutes.” You spoke, running your fingers through his hair.

He sulked and groaned.

“Fine. I’ll see you at home.” He gave you another kiss and reluctantly walked out of your office. And you smiled as you watched him leave.

You had offered to get him his own place the moment you found out that he had been living on a friend’s couch since he was out of uni, but he refused saying it was too much. Then you told him that he was welcome to use your guest bedroom. And he agreed immediately, and you two have been living together ever since.

He was quite an amazing roommate. Fun, and energetic and his smile and laughter was contagious. He made your days much livelier and better. He would always start out by sleeping in his own room, then each night, he would quietly walk into your room and slip under the covers; snuggling up to you. And you would always wake up in his arms.

It was comforting.

Sebastian soon began acting like spoilt brat. Not in a bad way, and definitely not just because of the money and all the nice things you bought him all the time – but he began getting insatiable with no matter how much attention he got. He was greedy regarding your attention, he wanted it all the time.

He didn’t care that you had a job; several branches of your company and so many employees to handle. He just wanted all your attention on him at all times, and he acted up when he didn’t get that.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he mumbled under his breath, sat next to you on the couch in your living room.

You were furiously typing an email because one of your workers had messed up something pretty bad and you had to fix it as soon as possible because you hated when things didn’t go your way. You were somewhat upset over the silly mistake of your silly employee, and on top of that Sebastian was being bratty since this morning. Whining and complaining about everything even when he had everything one can ever want. Part of it was your own fault, you had been spoiling him too much lately.

You heard him, but you were so engrossed in work that you forgot to reply to him. So he sighed dramatically, loudly. “Pay attention to me!” he whined again, inching closer to you.

“Hmm, what is it?” you spoke, sounding uninterested without even looking his way.

Unable to deal with the lack of attention, he leaned in and kissed your neck softly. He knew damn well it was your weakness, and you could never resist it. Sebastian smirked when he saw you stopped typing for a moment, but then resumed once you recovered from his unexpected soft touch.

“I want you.” he mumbled against your skin, moving your hair aside and kissed down the side of your throat, clearly preventing you from focusing on work.

“Baby,” you sighed softly, “I’m working right now, okay?” you kept your eyes on the screen in front of you, trying to finish this email as soon as possible because you had a hundred other things to do.

“So?” he sounded like he cared very little about the serious work you were doing. “I don’t care. I want you.” he said again, sucking and nibbling on your skin. And he didn’t miss the soft gasp which left your lips. He smirked when he heard it. “Now.” he added.

You sighed again as you felt him shamelessly slipping his hand under your sweater and toying with your breasts. He chuckled when he saw that you had stopped typing entirely. You couldn’t focus on work, not when he was acting like this.

“What do you want?” you sounded both tired and annoyed.

He frowned. “Hey, don’t use that voice on me.” He whispered against your skin and gently bit on the skin along your jaw. You closed your eyes and melted at his touch. It was really hard to resist him, especially now that he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he knew all your weaknesses.

“Sebastian…” you wanted it to sound like a warning but his name ended up sounding like a soft moan escaping your lips. He smirked again. “I have work to do, baby.” you tried escaping him and his needs but he wasn’t giving up.

“I don’t care. It’s your job to take care of me and my needs. And right now, all I want is you.” he kissed along your jaw up to your ear where he whispered again, “I need you.”

And that was it, you melted and gave in.

Sebastian could be addicting. From his bubbly personality, witty jokes and comments to the way he let you take control in bed. Always obeying, and listening attentively to all that you had to say to him. He liked having you on top, he didn’t mind it. He liked how you playfully tortured him in bed, until he was a whimpering mess; begging for you to touch him and do what you will with him.

He liked how you would lean in to kiss him or look him deep in his eyes while you sank down on his cock and gently rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time.

He liked how you put his needs first. Almost always – but not before teasing him. You often messed with him, you would slow down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you would speed up when he least expected it until he was nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock.

“You look gorgeous, baby…” you’d whisper in his ear as you teased him, making him whine and beg for you. He groaned at the sound of your sultry voice and he’d almost squirm under you. You giggled at his reaction and finally give him what he needs. What you both need. You fucked him good; making him cum in no time.

Your walls clenched around him; gripping him and milking him perfectly as you rode his sensitive, throbbing cock as he came – with you coming undone right after him. His heart raced, he breathed hard and fast as you fell limp on top of him. You kissed his chest, “You did so good, baby.” you murmured and he wrapped his arms around you immediately. Nodding at your words, but unable to speak as he gasped still.

Sebastian was just as addicted to you as you were to him. He liked being around you, you spoilt him – a lot. But also, he found himself liking you more than he intended to. He began caring a lot more, and also began getting more and more jealous whenever he caught you checking someone else out.

“Why are you staring at him?�� he asked once, while you two were out for date night at a really fancy place. Sebastian noticed you often looking over at the bar, and he followed your line of sight to find a handsome man at the bar, around his own age.

And he got jealous, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

You were surprised at the tone he used, but then felt ashamed after being caught. “I’m not,” you looked down at the menu and wine list, “It’s nothing.” You said.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah? Why are you checking him out then?” he sounded jealous and you couldn’t help but smirk a little.

“I’m not. I’m just looking, I’m allowed to look at other people, aren’t I?” You clarified with a teasing smile and he frowned.

You thought he would drop it. But he didn’t. The minute you got home and into your bedroom, he followed you and pushed you against the wall. He stepped closer and you looked up at him to find that he wasn’t as playful as always. He looked irritated as he had you trapped between his muscular body and the wall.

“Hey, what-“

He cut you off.

“I don’t want you looking at other boys. You have me, you don’t need anything else. Or am I not enough?” he sounded both sad and pissed off.

You reached up and caressed his cheek gently. “Oh baby, you are enough. I don’t want anyone else.” You reassured him.

He smirked. “Good. Because you’re mine. And I’m not sharing.” He leaned in to press his lips to yours. Sebastian kissed you feverishly, passionately – as always, yet there was something different this time. Almost like he was showing you that you truly didn’t need anyone else.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you away from the wall. He walked the two of you to the couch. He would usually prefer the bed, but right now he was impatient and the couch was closer so he gently pushed you down on it and immediately got on his knees in front of you.

He locked his gaze with yours as he spread your legs apart slowly and slipped his hand under your dress. He dragged your underwear down your legs in no time. He pushed you down more, until you were lying on the couch with him in between your legs.

He lifted your dress up until it bunched around your waist and he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses along your thigh and inner thighs till he reached your dripping core. He looked up at you again as he kissed you right above your clit.

“You’re mine.” he whispered strictly, his warm breath hitting your damp core making you shiver. Your lips parted as you gasped when his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit and licked down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He maintained eye contact as he touched you, tasted you, so intimately. Letting it be known that he was in charge this time. Usually you were the one in control in the bedroom, but not right now. Right now he intended to prove to you that you belonged to him and that you didn’t need anyone else.

Sebastian’s ocean blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His arms wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you; making you whine. Your wetness and his spit drenched the lower half of his face. But he didn’t seem to mind it. His sole purpose was to make you come undone all over his tongue, and show you how good he could be to you.

Sebastian liked watching you whine and whimper under him; with your warm thighs wrapped around his head. Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. You threw your head back, moaning as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

It didn’t take much for you to come undone all over his tongue. With a few more agonizing but pleasurable stroked of his tongue, you came, gushing out on his tongue and he lapped up all that you gave him. He liked the sight of you moaning and whimpering wantonly above him, it gave him a surge of power

And driven by that same, newfound power he climbed on top of you, kissing you again and whispering all that he wants to do to you right in your ear. His words were sinful, and erotic and it only helped in adding to the wetness which was accumulating at your core. His words alone made you whimper and bit your lip.

And just like that, he took over you and your senses. He loved the control he had in the moment. Your hand reached in between the two of you to unbuckle his belt and lower his underwear again because you just needed him. You were eager. But he playfully smacked your hand and grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them down on the couch above your head.

The glare he gave you told you to keep your hands there. Your breathing quickened as your heart raced in anticipation. Sebastian wasted no time in undoing his pants, lowering his underwear and reaching down to stroke his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process.

You squirmed and moaned when he did so; the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your wet lips, parting them as he circled your clit gently. You shuddered under him; whining in need and the wet sounds. You were weak and needy already.

Sebastian smirked. “No one else is gonna fuck you better than I can, you hear me?” he spoke, gently guiding his cock over to your entrance and gently pushing inside you. He inserted his length entirely into you and shamelessly moaned right in your ear at how good you felt, wrapped around him.

Once you adjusted to his size, he sped up against you; rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your throat gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up again. “You’re mine.” He repeated, and leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth.

You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you out and pounding into you like his life depended on it. Sebastian was relentless, you felt a familiar pressure forming around your lower region. He quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before, your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist.

“Fuck… you feel so good. This is where you belong, here with me…” his voice cracked as he whispered in your ear. He somehow sounded needy but in control at the same time, and it made you tremble under him. You felt your walls clench around him, and tightening around his thick member; making him swear out loud. With his words it felt like your roles were reversed, and you were fine with it. You like it when he was a little rough with you.

“Come on, cum for me...” he panted against your cheek, gripping your jaw with his hand. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came – hard.

Sebastian came right after you, groaning and panting as well. “Don’t you dare look at another man.” He mumbled, clearly still grumpy. You giggled at his words and wrapped your arms around him as he carelessly laid on top of you.

“I won’t.”

Time went by, and the two of you only got closer and closer. With the help of some of your close friends, you managed to get Sebastian his dream job and everything was going smoothly. Somehow, even without talking about it, you both knew that sooner or later, your ‘agreement’ would morph into something more solid. And neither one of you minded that in the least.

You decided to just let time do its thing.

Sebastian liked having you around more than anything. You made him feel warm and special and he bloody loved it. As for you, Sebastian felt like he was all that you were missing in life. He was good to you.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan au #sebastian stan imagine #sugarbaby!seb #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan fic #sinner-as-saint #ceo!reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader smut

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barnesbabee · 5 years ago

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The Boss Doesn’t Like It || C.J

Summary: Don’t fuck around where you shouldn’t be.

Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader

Words: Bruh ngl it’s long as fuuuuck :/

Genre: Smut, Angst

⚠ Mafia!au, metion of drugs, mentions of blood, usage of guns, degrading, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, thigh kink ⚠

A/N: This is for the lovers of the Mafia!au then. Enojy 💖

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

His hand flew across your cheek, and an incredible, stinging pain spread through your face.

“I’m gonna ask this one more fucking time, and you better answer properly, or else…” The dark-haired male pulled a gun from his thigh gun holster.

He pressed the cold barrel to your temple harshly, forcing you to slightly cock your head. You were trying your best to remain calm and not seem pathetic, but you couldn’t help and freak out a little over the gun pointed at your head. Breathing was suddenly hard and small beads of sweat rolled down your forehead.

“I’ve fucking told you three times. I don’t work for anyone. You got the wrong idea, it’s not my fault.”

It was entirely your fault. You should have told your drug dealer to fuck off, that he was going to deliver them to you in a reasonable place and that you sure as Hell wouldn’t step into that part of the town, but of course your thought process didn’t go as far as considering the consequences of your dangerous actions.

The very second you stepped foot into the dark street decorated with used syringes, broken glass and rusty knives, you were knocked out by a harsh blow to the head. You woke up tied to a chair, in a cold, cement room that had nothing but a table with pristine tools on top of it, that, to be honest, scared the living shit out of you.

The tall mal smacked you with the gun barrel, proceeding to shove it back where he had taken it from. You winced at the pain, and soon after felt the warm blood.

He turned his back, visibly infuriated by the response, and walked towards the metal door.

“She doesn’t leave.” He told the man standing outside, just as he walked away from the scenario.

The door was slammed shut with a loud noise. You finally let yourself break down, and never-ending tears streamed down your face as you bit your lower lip to try and suppress your sobs. You felt like puking. You felt claustrophobic because of the tight ropes you couldn’t wriggle out of.

Suddenly, just as you were about to lose hope, your eyes landed on the tool table. The scalpel. You looked towards the door and started conjuring a way out, before they eventually killed you, or made you bleed to death. If you tried to move closer to the table in your current situation, the chair would creak against the floor and the man outside would hear you. He had to be gone… But how on earth would you be able to do that…

An idea popped into your head, and you remembered your previous thoughts.

You felt like puking.

You bent over in the chair so that the ropes would be pressing tighter against the mouth of the stomach, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately started salivating and gagging in the air, loudly.

The man outside heard this and burst inside immediately. He saw you hunching over, salivating onto the floor. The male gripped your hair and forced your body back to his original position. He removed his hand and approached his face to yours.

“Boss doesn’t like his shit messy, so if you puke you’ll clean it right back up”

You took the proximity of your faces as the perfect opportunity. You swung your head back and smashed it against his nose as hard as your body allowed you to. The man stumbled back and, by pure luck (for you), hit his head on the pipe behind him, and fell to the ground unconscious.

You wasted no time in grabbing the scalpel once you had gotten close enough to the table, and started by undoing the ropes around your wrists, then around your torso, and finally around your feet. Before you fleed the room, you rummaged through the man’s body until you found a gun. Did you know how to use it? No, but you felt safer with it in your hands knowing that probably everyone you’d run into had one of these with them.

You blindly made your way through the halls, just praying to God that wherever you were going lead to a way out. Surprisingly enough, you were able to escape the building. The gun immediately slipped from your hands the second you stepped into the outside world and you ran away like some monster was out to get you. You didn’t stick around to hear the boss’ angry yell when he found that some mere girl was able to knock out the man whose specific instructions were to not let you out, and then escape.

He was beyond furious, because you had beat him. And no one beats Jongho. He swore on his life he’d find you and bring you back, and then he’d decide your fate.

Enveloped with fear and paranoia, you barely left the house the following month, only when it was absolutely necessary. But as time passed, and as the weeks went by, you felt safer, the crazy thoughts washed away and you felt like you could start living your life again. Slowly your life began coming back, and as a celebration, one night, you hesitantly left your apartment and made your way to the club as a way of cheering for your returned freedom.

As the night went on, you started becoming more free and careless, living the party. Every shot you took was like piecing back together your confidence, and you eventually let go of your worries as the music played through your body.

The third song since you had been on the dance floor started playing, and you felt a pair of hands encircle your waist and pull you closer. Your back hit their chest and for a second you were worried and a little anxious, but when you glanced over your shoulder to see the person’s face, you were pleasantly surprised. You smiled at the good-looking, red-haired stranger and he replied with a smirk.

“Hey pretty.” He whispered in your ear.

Instead of replying, you began moving your body once more, swaying your hips to the music, making sure your ass was grinding against his crotch. His grunts and small squeezed were an incentive to keep going, and you gladly did.

He lowered his head, so his lips would be leveled with your right ear.

“What do you say we take this somewhere else, beautiful?”

You turned around and encircled his neck with your arms. You placed a long, teasing kiss on his plump lips and pulled away right after, wanting to give him just a taste of what awaited him.

“Let’s go?” You asked, stepping away from the male’s body.

He answered your question by placing his hand on your ass and squeezing it, while he lead the two of you out of the crowded club.

Your legs were a little wobbly as you tried to keep up with the pace of his long legs. Your eyes wandered around the place you were heading towards. It was… odd. It was very dark and it seemed empty, compared to the rest of the city. A chill ran down your spine and you decided to walk a little bit behind the stranger, as you started feeling the fear creeping up again. You wanted to ignore it, because it was most probably still remains of your previous fright, but you couldn’t shake it. When the male grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alleyway, you stopped being scared and became terrified.

Everything was dark, but you could make out three figures standing in front of you.

“W-what’s going on?” You asked and gulped.

Your mind immediately went to the worst-case scenarios: kidnapping, sex traffic, you name it. Your legs were visibly shaking, until a car’s headlights turned on. Your body froze and you covered the light with your hand for a second, as it was too blinding. When you moved your hand and looked at the men standing in front of you, you became unable to think. There stood the male you had been avoiding for months, the man you swore you were safe from.

Your heart beat a million times per second, it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest at any second and breathing became hard.

“Good job Mingi.” He said, in a stern voice to the man beside you.

You watched as the stranger that you had been following up until now nodded his head and joined the other men in front of the car.

The male you tried to avoid started stepping towards you, and, just as he opened his mouth to say something, you felt dizzy, and you suddenly felt light. It was all too overwhelming, too terrifying, and you couldn’t take it. You didn’t remember anything else, but the cold feeling of the floor as your body collapsed.

You woke up, cold and uncomfortable. You tried to move, but you were obviously restrained by something. Your head was pounding, and for a second all you remembered were the insane amount of shots you took. When the rest of the memories hit you, however, your eyes shot open and you sat up, wherever you were. You moved a little too quickly and so your vision became blurry for a second, but that didn’t stop you from frantically looking around the room, trying to make out where you were.

Oh great...

One of your hands was handcuffed to the pipe in the room you had once been tied in a chair, except this time the tool table was nowhere to be seen. You cursed yourself for being so naive the previous night and following that stranger into this mess…

Whoever you were dealing with was smart, that much you could deduct. They must have been following you for weeks, tracing you and camping outside your home for the longest time, and you hadn’t even noticed. You shivered at how terrifying that was.

Long streams of tears escaped your eyes, and you honestly couldn’t tell if they were from the stress, fear, desperation, or sadness. You reached your free hand up to your cheeks and wiped the tears. You looked at your fingers after your face was dry and saw all of the black mascara smeared on them.

“I’m gonna die ugly I can’t believe this…”

And so you began to cry once more at the thought of death.

The big door burst open and slammed against the wall. A red-haired male you recognized from the previous night approached you holding a key and knelt down next to you, beginning to undo your handcuff. The memories of what he had done to you hit you like a truck, and the shame and fury bubbling inside of you couldn’t be contained. You gathered all of the courage you had in you (which was not much at this point) and spat in his face. Straight between his pretty, cat-like eyes.

“Asshole.”

He looked at you with a threatening expression and you cowered a little in your spot. The male cleaned the saliva on his face with the sleeve of his sweater.

“I was doing my job.”

You rolled your eyes and let yourself be pulled up by the man after he had uncuffed you. You didn’t try to run, you weren’t completely dumb and you were totally aware that not only was he much stronger, he was probably much faster too.

He pulled you along for a couple of meters and up a flight of stairs until you reached a pair of big, dark wood doors. The man opened the door, threw you in, and slammed it close, leaving you in there to your own fate.

“You know….”

You stopped facing the door and turned around to look at the familiar voice’s owner. He was wearing a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, tucked inside a pair of black jeans. The male seemed to miss the point of a button-up shirt, as it was very much ‘buttoned-down’.

You watched each of his moves carefully and warily, as you were a little concerned about what awaited you.

“I’m very curious about how you managed to escape. Yeosang won’t tell me, admittedly because he must be very embarrassed a girl we came to find out is just a university student managed to knock him out and escape,” He paused, sipped on his whiskey and walked towards you, until you were chest to chest “ and I’m very, very, interested in your little endeavor.”

You pushed him away with your index finger, very disturbed by the proximity. He looked at your finger curiously, and honestly amused about the way you behaved before someone who owned several guns and had threatened you before with one.

“I used my head, okay? Just kill me or torture me or do whatever you’re going to do, get it over with.” You didn’t want to go any farther.

Jongho shrugged and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest in the process.

“You know princess, the problem is, I don’t know what it is that I’m going to do to you…”

You looked at him confusedly, what kind of gang member was he? Did they just spin the wheel to decide what to do?

“What is that supposed to mean?...” You question, crossing your arms as well.

“What’s your name, princess?”

The pet name left his lips in such a natural way that you couldn’t help but like the sound of it.

“You can just keep calling me princess.”

Jongho chuckled and smirked, absolutely in love with your fierceness. Perhaps it was bravery, perhaps it was stupidity, but whatever it was, Jongho had never seen it in a woman and he was stunned, to say the least.

“I like you, princess. I like the way you behave. You came into this side of town, got captured by Mafia members, got threatened by their boss and didn’t give a fuck, proceeded to knock down one of them, left the building, then you were caught again and now you’re here,” He approached you once more, this time taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look him in the eye properly “talking down to the Boss.”

You shivered in place, but maintained your confident posture. Jongho chuckled, his gaze never leaving yours.

His eyes traveled along your body, followed by his hands that explored your curves shamelessly.

“I might just need to give you a punishment for being such a brat…”

“You’re a lucky one.”

You looked at the tall man that lead you to a random room you hadn’t been told what it was.

“How am I lucky?”

He glanced at you as if you were stupid and chuckled.

“Jongho took a liking to you, he’s invited you for dinner, pretty. You’re lucky you didn’t get on his bad side after what you did… My best guess was that you were going to die, in the best-case scenario.”

You swallowed dryly, a little thankful for having a future to look upon.

“Here it is, fix yourself, you look like shit.”

You scoffed at the tall male and entered the room. It was an enormous bathroom, marble-decorated bathroom. You looked yourself in the mirror, fuck, you did look like pure shit. Disheveled hair, runny makeup, and torn up dress. You questioned Jongho’s taste in women for a second…

Your thoughts came to a halt when you saw white fabric sitting on the counter right beside you. It had a small, handwritten note. You picked it up to read it.

‘Wear this tonight, if it doesn’t fit you can wear nothing ;)’

How long ago had he planned this!?

Nonetheless, you stripped from yourself and cleaned your face the best you could so you could slip on the white dress without staining it. You had to admit, Jongho knew how to dress women well. The dress was absolutely stunning: it was a white, off-shoulder dress with a v-neck and a pencil skirt.

You fixed your hair quickly and made a braid out of it with the hair tie that was always on your wrist. Admittedly the dress was a little tight, but it was better than the other option.

You opened the bathroom door once you were done and found the same tall, blue-haired man waiting for you.

“Ready?”

You nodded, and he silently lead you through the halls to what you supposed was the dining area.

“Behave, Jongho isn’t as friendly as he looks.” The tall man advised before opening the door.

He pushed it open for you to enter. Before getting in you looked over your shoulder.

“Jongho seems to enjoy it when I misbehave.”

You winked and finally stepped into the dining room. Jongho was already there, now in black dress pants instead of his previous jeans, looking outside of the building.

When he heard the door close, he turned around.

“Princess, you look beautiful. Although I have to say I’m a little disappointed you didn’t choose option number two.”

You smiled at the cheesy joke and joined him looking at the pretty sunset.

The male noticed how the dress hugged your body, and suddenly the most beautiful sight wasn’t the sunset.

Jongho’s eyes were glued to how well he could see every single of your curves through the dress. Your big bust, your wide hips, your thick thighs… The man grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body. You were a little taken aback at the sudden movements.

“You know, I don’t think I can wait until after dinner, I might have to punish you now.”

“Wait but-”

“Y/N,” He paused, and his tumb caressed your lower lip “you misbehaved, you’re lucky you’re not dead.”

He did know your name. Of course he did…

“Although depending on what your sexual preferences are, you might wish I had just killed you after what I’m going to do to you.”

You had never felt like this. You had never felt the urge to become this submissive to anybody… Excitement took over you and every trace of discomfort evaporated as you gave into his touch.

Jongho noticed the shift in your behavior and smirked. He swung you over his shoulder, as if your body was made out of feathers, and made way for his bedroom. You were surprised at how easily he lifted you, and you couldn’t help but imagine how effortlessly he could maneuver you.

Once he’d reached the bedroom, he closed the door with his foot and threw you on his king-sized bed. You watched him undress from his shirt at the speed of light before hovering over you, each leg beside your waist. One of his hands held him up while the other caressed your thigh.

“I can’t fucking wait to take you off of this dress.” He whispered.

Your hands caressed his arms, feeling and squeezing his biceps that you now loved.

“Why don’t you then?”

His eyes turned a darker shade and his hands immediately gripped the hem of your dress and peeled it off of your body. The tight fabric gave you no space for a bra, so as soon as you fell back on the bed, your boobs bounced on your chest, and Jongho’s cock hardened.

He gripped both of your tits in his hands.

“No bra? Such a fucking slut… Practically begging to be fucked.”

He lowered himself so his lips could meet yours in a harsh, sloppy kiss. Your spit mixed with his as your tongues fought for dominance in a fight you were sure to lose. Jongho pinched your nipples, causing you to whimper and buck your hips. As you did so, your crotch rubbed against Jongho’s, making him groan into the kiss.

He pulled away from the kiss and attached his lips to your neck, pampering it with kisses until he found soft spots. He bit down of them and sucked harshly, then making sure to lick around the place that would be marked soon enough. As he worked on your neck, his hand teased your clothed pussy.

“I’m gonna fuck you so well princess, I’m gonna make you scream my name.” He said against your neck.

You chuckled and sucked in a breath.

“Are you sure you can do that?”

Jongho’s grip on you grew tighter and he locked eyes with you for a second. The look in his eyes told you you’d struck a nerve, and you felt satisfied with yourself. Jongho’s fingers pulled your panties down and threw them on the floor of his bedroom.

The man undid his belt and pulled down his zipper so he could strip from his pants. Then, in one swift movement, he wrapped his arm around your waist, sat on the edge of the bed, and placed you on his bare thigh. The feeling of your naked core against his skin alone made you hiss.

Jongho grabbed your ass and spanked it harshly.

“Ride it.”

You looked at him as if the instructions were unclear, and he slapped your ass once more.

“I’m gonna make you ride my thigh until you beg for my cock you fucking whore.”

He gripped your hair and brought your face closer to his. You whimpered in pleasure when you felt his fingers tug on your hair.

“You like this? Hm? Let’s see if you can take it, start moving baby girl.”

Your hips started rocking slowly against his hips, but his big hands on your ass forced you to move faster. Jongho teasingly flexed his thigh against your core, and he could feel the wetness spread on his thigh.

You started moving faster looking for a release, but you knew it wasn’t enough, you needed more of him, you wanted more of him.

Jongho saw the desperation in your face as you gripped his shoulders and sunk yourself harsher and faster on his thigh. His hands gripped your ass tighter, as he wanted to push you to your limit, he wanted to hear you beg for him, and eventually, you gave in.

“Jongho… Jongho please I need you.”

He hummed, not quite please by your words.

“You need me doing what? What do you need me for?”

You held back a moan as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“I-I need you fucking me. I need your cock in me Jongho.”

Finally happy with your begs, Jongho picked you up effortlessly and pushed you down on his bed. He slid down his boxers, letting his cock hit your bare pussy. You whimpered at how big he was.

Jongho ran his tip along your folds, teasing your clit with it for a second.

“You want my cock? Hm? Do you want my cock in you my little whore? Beg for it.” He demanded.

You gripped the sheets in anticipation and looked up at him.

“Please Jongho, please fuck me, I want you in me.”

With no further notice, Jongho pushed into you. He thrust his hips into your body almost in an animalistic way. The headboard hit the wall violently but you couldn’t hear it, you were too focused on Jongho’s grunts as he fucked into you.

Jongho squeezed your sides, loving the way his fingers dipped in your skin.

Your hands landed on Jongho’s biceps once more, squeezing them. You loved the way he looked so fucking big on top of you.

He slapped your inner thigh and you whimpered at the pleasurable pain.

Jongho hit such a deep spot inside of you, even if you wanted to you couldn’t hold back your squeals and moans. Jongho gripped your waist and flipped you, so he’d be sitting on the bed with you riding him. He just loved to hear the way your ass slapped against his things.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades as you felt your orgasm building up.

“J-Jongo fuck… You feel so good…”

He smacked your ass once more and picked up the pace once he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“Cum for me princess, I wanna hear you.”

You lasted about six more seconds before your body gave in. You slammed down on his cock one last time before an overwhelming orgasm washed over you. You hid your face on the crook of his neck as your whole body shook and you cried for his name.

Seeing your bratty, snappy figure crumble like that made something twist inside Jongho, and the final tight feeling of your hole clenching around him threw him over the edge. He shot his warm, thick load inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

Neither of you moved, you just sat like sat catching your breaths for a couple of minutes. You only lifted your head when you heard him chuckle. You gave him a puzzled look, and the male ran his hand up and down your back as he planted a kiss on one of the hickeys he’d given you.

“I think I want to keep you for myself.”

501 notes · View notes

spookyswhore · 5 years ago

Text

What You Gonna Do When They Come for You? (Oscar Diaz x Reader)

Summary: Creating a new life from Freeridge may have been more of a nightmare than a blessing. After a life altering decision, what you gonna do when they come for you?

Word count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: this is a request from @tinnadh7 , hope you like. Sorry I’ve been away for so long between graduating and going to college everything has been stressing me out lol

Freeridge still looked the same as it did before you left. Shit, it even smelled the same too. Cigarettes, alchohol, and 15 years later, you were now back in town after your move to New York. Right after your high school graduation, you moved out of state to New York to pursue your dreams of becoming a detective. Watching crime shows like The First 48 and Cops (and singing very passionately to the theme song) only put that final nail in the coffin and cemented your decision to become a part of the police force. Now here you were sitting on your older sister’s couch, a glass of wine sat chilled in your hand and you were clad in a sweater and some sweats with your hair in a ponytail. She lived in Brentwood, maintaning the life you were struggling to build, on your end. Her huge house, quiet neighborhood, and peace were all some things you wanted to acquire at some point in your life. That point is just not now.

"What are you doing here?" Your sister asked. By the tone of her voice, you could tell she wasn't exactly the happiest to see you. After you left, you lost contact with everything and everyone that was involved with Freeridge, which didn’t really sit right with her. After all, family was everything.

“I need somewhere to stay…” You said. You silently hoped that she would let go the grudge she held against you for the last 15 years and not be petty enough to not accpet her sister into her home. You both were raised on ‘Family First’ and you had no idea whether she was going to go against all that you were raised on.

“I’m not going to stay here forever. I just- I just need somehwere to lay low for a few days. I’ll find an apartment. I did something bad and not I’m in some shit that I can’t really explain right now..” You said as your pleas began to fade. You so badly wnated to fill your sister in all of the stuff that happened in the time that you were gone but right now you had no idea what to do and you didn’t want to put her or her newborn in jeopardy.

“Aren’t you some cop or something. Do that stuff that you guys do and you’ll be fine.” She said, completely dismissing you.

“It’s not that simple. I know you don’t really like me right now but just, please, can I stay here? I won't be in your way. I just need a little bit of time to figure this shit out.” You teared up as your voice broke. You hated the unknown and you were really scared of the shit you were caught up in and you didn’t know if you were going to make it out alive.

Your sister took a deep breath. You could see her internal dialogue spread across her face as she tried to decipher whether she’ll let you in or not. After a hot second, she shook her head of her thoughts and looked at your distraught state.

“Yeah. Sure. But I swear if you bring this shit to my home-.” You cut her off.

“I’m not. Thank you.” You got up and hugged her. “Now..” you smirked at her. “Can I meet my nephew?”

She laughed at your question. “Yes you can.” You followered into his room and never seen or experienced anything so heartwarming. The way his little beady eyes gleamed at you and the way his tiny little hand wrapped around your finger just melted your heart completely. She then showed the extra room she had, where you’ll be staying you thanked her again, bringing her into a teary eyed hug.

You woke up at noon with a sweat. The events that led you to your current state plagued your mind and your dreams as you slept and only left you a wet mess, breathing heavily in anxiety. You threw the covers off of your sticky body and trekked youself towards the bathroom and noticed your sister set you up with a fresh set of clothes throughout the night. Silently thanking her, you made a mental note to get a job and save up enough money to get you a whole new wardrobe, seeing as you literally had to get up and go and you were going to be in Freeridge for a while. Once you finished showering, you threw on the fresh set of clothes. In the middle of doing your hair, your stomach made the iconic sound that everybody loves and knows to be a whale call, indicating that you have eaten in the last 36 hours. Between spending money for transportion and paying for food at any diner that was closest to you, you were flat out broke. You began to walk down the spiral staircase, taking note of the white marble and planning to put it in your “future house items’ list. Only hearing the sound of your footsteps as you drew closer to the fridge, it was only right that you assumed you were the only person awake right now, not knowing that your sister’s husband had to get up this early too. Only difference was… he had a job. Rummaging through the fridge with a piece of toast after what seemed like two minutes, at least to you, you were startled by a deep voice.

“Excuse me? Who are you?” He said. You moved your eyes quckly side to side, trying to conjure up a response good enough to not make you look stupid.

“Uh, who are you?” You said, straightening up from being bent over in half, with a gallon of orange juice in your hand.

“I...” he said as he took a few steps closer, “...am Melissa’s husband. Now again who-”. He got cut off by the deadpan tone of your sister’s voice.

“Sean, who are you trying to intimidate now- oh.” Your sister’s words get cut off as her eyes land upon the situation she was absolutely dreading between her sister and her husband. She thought she would be able to put it off and hide her sister long enough to come up with a reasonable explanation to explain to her husband as to why there’s an extra person in this house.

“Yeah. Oh. Who is this?”

“This is my sister.” She said, taking long strides to stand next to you.

“Sister? You never told me you had a sister.” You stood there very awkwardly looking between your sister and her husband. Melissa started fiddling with her fingers and you saw the gears start rotating in her brain. So, calling onto your sisterly duties, you decided to relieve your sister of the stress and explain the long story yourself. After a lengthy 5 minutes, a dark grey cloud of silence loomed over everyone. For a second, you saw a look of pure rage engross her husband’s face but maybe it was your paranoia. Your sister and her husband looked at you, eyes wide in disbelief but you didn’t stay long as you turned and and made your way out of the door. You needed some fresh air anyways. Your legs took you farther and farther away from the house as you made your way towards somewhere that wasn’t the cringey feeling that encapsulated your sister’s home.

Great apprehension crept up in your body as you grew closer and closer to a home you’d never thought you’d see again. The memories you made with the Diaz residence when you were younger flooded your mind. The sexual thoughts you held sacred in your mind about Oscar had gotten interrupted by Oscar’s tall frame standing in front of you. During the time that you were friends, you developed a bit of a crush that only you knew of. It was imperative that you, in the name of the wellbeing of your family, would never get romantically involved with Oscar. With him being this infamous gang leader, it would just end very badly for every loved one in your life. As much as you saw through his machismo exterior and saw him as the loyal, caring, protective man, all of that had to be thrown out of the window as you stood in the present.

“What are you doing back over here?” He nodded. Not being the shy, little high schooler you once were, you sized him up, matching his intimidation. But don’t get yourself wrong, the rapid beating of your heart and the throbbing in your core was almost enough to have you start seeing wedding bells.

“You know, I REALLY don’t think that is any of your business. Bold of you to question me, isn’t it? Got a problem?” Your cop instincts kicked in as you and Oscar stood with your eyes locked with each other. His eyes faltered for a bit in defeat then darkened with what you assumed to be lust. It was then that he didn’t respond but let off but a smirk, small enough for you to see, as he walked away. Shaking your head of your thoughts, you noticed Cesar and the rest of the Santos burning holes in the side of your head. Offering a quick smile and a wave to Cesar, your face dropped as you mindlessly wandered, again, around the streets of Freeridge.

Day turned into night as you made your way back “home”. As you opened the door, the scene that laid out in front of you. There were broken items everywhere. The table, the vase that sat on top of the island in the kitchen, basically anything that can be within arms reach. Then, your eyes jolted to your sobbing sister on the floor, surrounded with the shambles of the house that once was.

“Melissa. What the hell?”

Her head shot up in shock and the mascara-laced tears that so deplorably ran down her face left you in utter shock. You immediately ran to kneel beside her and took the bottle from her hands. You proceeded to ask her what happened during the time that you got some air. As she told you what transpired, everything in the room started to turn red. Anger quickly simmered inside you like some meat in a pressure cooker as the maroon-colored richness that only resembled blood made it’s way into your pupils. Never in a million years would you have believed that life would put you in a situation where your sister is in some deep shit and you would be there by her side. But this was the card that you were dealt. You didn’t have much info on what was going on but you definitely knew you and your sister had to get out ASAP. Something told you that something, or someone rather, is bad. Thoughts on the many ways you were going to kill your sister's husband flooded your mind as you helped your sister up. You told her to wait outside for you while you went to go get her baby to make sure he was safe.

"Yes, baby, it's okay. Shh." You cooed. Your nephew was starting to awake from his sleep and you knew it was a matter of time before he would begin to cry. You grabbed as much stuff as you could--the essentials--and made your way to join your sister outside. The cool night air hit y’all as you came to a dreadful realization.

"Shit."

"What?" Your sister asked.

“We have nowhere to go.” You replied, swaddling the baby on your chest. You racked your brain trying to figure out who the hell in Freeridge was going to accept two random adults and a baby at this time of night. You couldn’t exactly go to certain parts of town because of the Prophets and 19th street. They would chew you up and spit you guys out, just loving the fact that you guys are in a vulnerable position. Your options were limited but they all pointed to the safest one. Oscar.

“Fuck.” You groaned.

“What?”

“We gotta go to Oscar’s.”

“Oscar. No. We are absolutely not going to that bastard’s house.” You sister said as she crossed her arms in retaliation.

“Well do you have a better idea. Because quite frankly, we don’t have anywhere to go and Oscar is our safest option right now. We also have to get a move on before Mr. Incredible Hulk comes back.”

“Fine. Alright. Let’s go.” Your sister huffed. When you arrived at Oscar's place, you knocked on the door until you couldn’t anymore.

“Yo are you crazy?” Oscar said as he threw open the door in frustration. But I mean, could you blame him? You and your sister showed up at an ungodly hour with a fussy baby in your arms and let’s not even get started with the way he was dressed which honestly made you feel some type of way. The way his tank top sat on his body and the shorts sat oh so perfectly on his hips sent a blissful sensation to parts down below.

“We need somewhere to stay for the night.” Your sister spoke.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Oscar can you not be a dick for 2 seconds and let us in.” Melissa said, obviously irritated.

“Melissa,” you started. “Oscar can we just spend the night, please. There’s a lot that has to be explained but there’s nowhere else in town for us to stay. Please.” You were pleading with Oscar at this point.

“What’s in it for me?” He smirked at the suggestive tone of his voice.

“Oscar, now is not the time. Are you going to let us in or not?” The longer you stood there, you yourself also began to grow frustrated.

It took him a minute to make a decision as he went silent. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching or lurking in the shadows and mumbled a silent “come in.”

You set foot in the house and all of the air left your lungs. Memories of you and Oscar began to drown your thoughts, again. The laughs. The movie sessions. The food. The study sessions that led to him giving up because he was lazy. Everything. You put your nephew down in Cesar’s room to go back to sleep and made sure your sister was okay before making your way back out into the living room. Oscar sat there with a mug, casually sipping whatever liquid was in it. You let out a large breath of relief as you finally got to sit down and relax after the day you’ve had.

“Long day?” His deep voice grumbled.

“Major understatement.”

Soon after, you felt a presence beside you and a dip in the sofa letting you know that Oscar is now sitting on the couch with you. With the interaction you encountered today with your sister’s husband, a little inkling told you something was up. Although you had just met him, you would have never began to think that he would manhandle your sister like she’s same ragdoll and honestly, the reality that it became had the anger inside you boil over. On the other hand, reality also hit that you didn’t have your job or your badge had been confiscated so there’s really nothing much you two can do but run and never look back. In deep thought about your next steps, you feel a hand on your shoulders and it starts to rub the day’s tension away.

“You’re tense.” His deep voice boomed.

“Yeah, well can you blame me?”

“What’s wrong?”

The room becomes quiet as you try and decide whether you want to tell Oscar everything that has happened in the past 15 years.

“Everything I know is gone…” You whispered.

“What?” Oscar replies.

“I thought escaping from Freeridge and trying to create a whole new life was gonna fucking help but it’s obviously not.” You said, beginning to tear up.

“What are you talking about?”

“Goddamnit, Oscar there’s people coming, “you said with a warning tone. “I fucked up. I did some shit that I can’t take back and now-“

“Hey hey shh.” Oscar soothed. He took you in his arms and tried to calm you down as you cried your eyes out. The weight of trying to protect your sister, her child, yourself and everyone around over a senseless decision you made on the other side of the country, was coming down on to you entirely, bearing no mercy. Now the question is, what are you going to do from now on to ensure the safety of you and the people around you?

#onmyblock #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz smut #oscar diaz #spooky diaz #spookydiaz

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years ago

Note

hey love can you maybe do a shower smut one shot? don't feel pressured like if u don’t wanna do it it’s fine!

Water Pressure

Reader x Peter Parker

Reader and Peter are both college-aged. College!Neighbor!AU I guess?

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Smut, shower sex, oral sex, face sitting, dick sucking, soap getting in your eyes, unreliable landlords

New York City in the summer was a great place to be. The stress of school was lifted off your shoulders, and you were lucky enough to be interning at your dream job. You were grateful for the opportunity to stay in the city after the semester ended, not having to move back home to your small town. However, there was one thing about summer in the city that was unbearable: the heat.

It was like a wet blanket that hit you every time you stepped out of your apartment, not that the tiny window box unit you had made much of a difference indoors. It was oppressive and heavy and difficult. You managed to survive with ice packs and cold showers. That was… until this afternoon.

You hike up the seven flights of stairs to your tiny apartment. The building was under serious renovations and didn’t have a working elevator, flickering lights, strange noises in the night. But it was seriously cheap rent compared to the other buildings in the area, so you were willing to make the sacrifices. Not many people lived on your floor, most of the rooms had been occupied by college students whose leases ended at the end of the school year.

You press your sweaty forehead against the chipped paint of the door as you fumble with your keys for a moment.

“Hey y/n, you good?” your neighbor from across the hall asks as he steps out of his apartment to leave for the afternoon.

“Yeah, thanks Flash. Its just so damn hot out. I’d suggest bringing some water wherever you’re going,” you respond. You sneak a peak into his apartment for a second before the door swings shut, getting a glance of his roommate Peter who was playing video games on the couch.

You were grateful to have them as neighbors, they were nice enough, would let you borrow a cup of sugar every once in a while, and weren’t too loud like the previous people you had lived near in college. It didn’t hurt that Peter was nice to look at. He was incredibly nice, and a little dorky, which only added to his charm. It wasn’t long into the summer before you had developed a little crush on him.

You had seen him around campus before, but never really got to know him. His best friend Ned had been your calculus tutor sophomore year, so you saw him in passing but never more than a wave or a smile. Now that he was living across the hall you saw him almost every day, lucky you.

You finally make it into your shoebox apartment and drop your stuff down on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t much cooler inside as it was outside, unfortunately. You immediately shed yourself of your slightly sticky clothing, peeling the few layers off your damp skin. It had become routine to hop in the shower as soon s you get home, an attempt to bring your body temperature down a few degrees and wash the sweat from your hair.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the ice cold water hits your face. The air of the city left a certain layer of grime on you that always felt nice to wash off. You allow yourself to use a large dollop of shampoo, wanting to scrub the roots of your hair from any sweat and dirt that the city had left.

It was moments like this that you cursed your landlord, cursed the building that you lived in, and cursed whatever higher power was in charge of your utilities. Your water shuts off. You jiggle the knob, hoping the water would turn back on, but it only lets out a few sad drips.

This had happened before, and typically wasn’t too big of a problem, however you had a mound of soapy hair on the top of your head that was starting to drip down your body. You let out an exasperated groan, not knowing what to do. You hop out and stick your head in the sink, hoping to use the sink water to rinse some of the shampoo suds out of your hair.

Of course the sink wouldn’t turn on either, and now your head was upside down in your tiny bathroom sink, soapy wet hair all in your face. When you stand up, the suds drip into your eyes and mouth, making you frown and scrunch your eyes up tight.

You grab the towel from the door hook and wrap it around your dripping body. In a moment of panic, soap burning in your eyes and starting to drip onto the floor, you decide to leave your apartment. It was a last ditch effort, but you needed this shampoo out of your hair and maybe their shower was working.

“Hey Peter?” you yell as you knock a few times, your other hand holding up the wet towel, “I need some help.”

You feel a little relieved when you hear his footsteps approaching, however that relief turns to embarrassment very quickly when he opens the door and you remember your current state.

“Y/n…. um…” he is a little confused.

“Sorry, my water shut off and I have soap in my eyes and in my hair and all over the floor,” you start to ramble, not really able to see him through your scrunched up soapy face, “is your water working? Can I use it for just a second.”

He starts laughing, which makes you feel a little bit better, you let out a laugh too. “Sure thing, I think it’s working.”

He runs over to the kitchen and turns on the sink, “Seems to be working fine, feel free to use the shower.”

“I…um…” you stand blindly in the frame of his doorway, dripping water and your hair a soapy mess in your face.

“Here, let me help you,” he laughs again. He takes your arm and guides you into their bathroom, his apartment the same model as yours just mirrored. “I have to leave, but feel free to take your time and let yourself out when you’re done.”

“Thank you so much, you’re a life saver,” you hear the door close behind you and you step into the shower, fumbling with the knob for a second before the water shoots out. You feel your heart rate slow as the soap is finally washed from your face.

You had only started to run your fingers through your tangled hair when you hear the bathroom door open again. Your eyebrows furrow as you start to peek your head out of the curtain. You see a figure for a second, floppy brown hair that could only be Peters. His hand quickly moves to the curtain, closing it in front of your face.

“Peter, what the fuck,” you start to ask.

“Shhh,” he shushes you and keeps the shower curtain closed tightly with his arm.

“Peter, what-” you begin to ask again before hearing Flash’s loud voice from the hallway.

“Hey dude, you in the shower?” He asks Peter.

“Umm, yeah, what’s up?” His voice is tense. You’re incredibly confused and just stand there in the shower enjoying the cold water.

“Just forgot my wallet. You mind if I take a piss?”

“Uhh,” before Peter can respond the doorknob starts to wiggle. You wonder why he doesn’t just tell Flash that you’re using the shower, but the situation is hard to gauge from inside.

“Fuck-” Peter mutters as he swiftly hops into the shower with you.

You turn to face him, about to throw your hands up, but it all happens too quickly. Before you can even ask what the fuck is going on his hand comes up to cover your mouth. Your eyes almost pop out of your head and your knees almost buckle when you finally see Peter.

Standing in the shower in front of you from the neck up was your neighbor Peter, the science whiz, nerdy, cute, t-shirt wearing, floppy haired Peter you had come to know. From the neck down…was Spider-man. Tight red and black suit that hugged his body, hand covering your mouth was gloved in a strange material that felt cold against your skin.

His face was incredibly panicked, his eyes almost as wide as yours. His other hand frantically came up to his face, signaling you to be quiet with a finger to his lips. Not that you had a choice, his large suited hand was tightly covering the lower half of your face.

You didn’t even have the time or focus to be embarrassed about being naked in front of him. You were overwhelmed with confusion and were too concentrated on the superhero in front of you to bother covering yourself up.

He throws his head back in annoyance as you can hear Flash peeing a few feet away, humming all the while.

“Alright man, have a good day,” he yells as he exits the bathroom.

“Yeah, you too,” Peter tries to keep his voice cool but you can hear an underlying shakiness.

As soon as the door slams shut he removes his hands from your mouth, but is still frantically gesturing for you to stay quiet. A few seconds pass and you hear the front door shut, he lets out a sigh of relief, but you can’t say the same for yourself.

His eyes grow wide again, realizing that he’s in the shower with you, and you’re naked. He scrunches his eyes shut and quickly turns around.

“Sorrysorrysorry,” he runs his hands through his hair, a little damp now from the condensation of the shower.

Before he can continue you grab his arm and turn him around, “What the fuck Peter,” you were still absolutely stunned, “what…”

“I’m sososo sorry I didn’t mean to be a creep or anything, I didn’t know he was gonna come into the bathroom and I had to hide…” you could tell he was just as nervous as you.

“I…what…” your brain still could not form words, “you’re… you’re…”

“Spiderman, yeah, and I really need you to not tell anyone please,” his eyes were wide with worry. At a split second you had thought this was a joke, or maybe he just dresses up in his free time or something, but no. The way his hand felt on your mouth and the terror in his eyes told you this was real, too real.

You give him a nod, “of course, of course.”

“It’s my biggest secret, and I can’t afford for Flash to find out because, well, I don’t think he’s kept anything to himself his entire life.”

You laugh a little, but your body still feels rigid and your mind is still swarming with questions. “But I think I can trust you,” he says, somewhere in between a question and a statement.

“Yes, you can trust me,” you could see ease creep onto his face, the wide-eyed, fearful look was slowly melting away. “Ned knows?” Out of all the questions you had, why was this the one you asked? It just slipped out.

“Yeah, Ned knows,” It was weird that you two were still in the shower, but you were both still too shaken up to realize or care.

“And…” you start.

“And that’s it. You and Ned.”

A deep pit begins to form in your stomach, “You aren’t gonna kill me or something, are you? Cuz I promise I won’t tell anyone; I swear.”

“Nonono,” he panics, “No, I’m one of the good guys, I don’t kill people. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry, I- I don’t know why I said that,” you felt bad for implying anything, you were just nervous that your newfound knowledge of Peter would change things.

“It’s okay that you’re freaked out, I’m- I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”

Without really thinking you turn around and face the water. You needed to feel something other than confusion, embarrassment, shock, and fear. You spin back around after a moment, Peter still standing there in the same state of shock and confusion as you.

“So you’re Spiderman,” you say with assurance, “wow.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out, I’m sorry if I’m being super weird.”

No part of you blamed him for his actions, you knew he wasn’t making up excuses to hop into a cold shower with you. And you didn’t blame him for lingering. He was just answering your questions, explaining himself. That was reasonable.

“No,” you weren’t sure what to say to get him to stay, “step into the water, it will make you feel better, I promise.”

He stared at you with a blank expression for a second, not knowing how to take your suggestion. He was also concentrating immensely on concealing the erection that was prominently poking against the material of his suit. He wanted to remove himself before you noticed before you could realize that he had been looking at you.

You had noticed. For a split second, while admiring how nice he looked in the skin tight suit your eyes wandered south and caught a glimpse of his hard on under the suit. He still looked nervous, a new kind of nervous though.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, making somewhat of a bold move, you reassure him, “It’s okay Peter, it’s just me.”

There was something lingering in the space between you. The fact that neither one of you had rushed to escape the shower at the first possible second was one thing. You hadn’t tried to cover yourself up. You looked him in the eye when speaking to him with an air of sincerity and understanding.

“How does it come off?” you ask, genuinely curious as it seemed to be air-tight against his body.

His hand slowly comes up to the center of his chest, pressing down on the spider logo. The material seems to evaporate off him, expanding and stretching until it pooled at his feet.

The wide look in your eyes had turned to something else entirely, they boy you had been stealing glances of for the past few months was naked and in the shower with you. Albeit, the circumstances that got you here were not ideal.

You take his hands and move them up to your face, encouraging his strong hands to cup your cheeks on either side. The way he was looking at you made something inside you stir. You tried to close some of the empty space between you, as he tentatively pulled your face to his.

The kiss was soft and gentile, your lips hovered over his for a moment before connecting. Your arms wrapped around his neck, a hand moving up to his damp curls. He pulls away slowly, eyes remaining closed for a moment after your lips had parted.

“This…” he whispers, “this isn’t just because you think I’m gonna kill you or something.”

“No,” you laugh, “I wanted to do that before I knew your secret identity. I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Me too,” he mumbles into your lips as he moves to kiss you again, this one was harder and more sure. His hands run up and down your body, wrapping around your waist and snaking up to your chest.

You couldn’t help but let out a whimper as his tongue met yours. Your hands were resting on his chest, toned and perfect.

“You’re really warm,” you comment with some concern, as his skin was burning underneath your touch.

“It’s a…spider sense thing,” he wasn’t quite sure how to go about explaining his abilities to you.

“Here, step into the cold water,” you had forgotten where you were for a second. You felt bad about his water bill, you had been in here for quite a while, and hopefully would be here for a while more.

You clenched your thighs together as you watched him step under the water and run his hands through his now wet hair. It was like a scene out of a movie, the way his muscles rippled with each movement, the way his lips remained slightly parted as the water washed over his face.

His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you under the stream of water with him. The sensation of his face pressed to yours, lips interlocking as the water rolled down your face was unreal. You shift your body towards his, pressing your chest flat to his. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, making your thighs clench again.

“Will you touch me?” you whimper into his mouth, sounding desperate and weak. You move your hand over his, showing him where you wanted him most.

“Fuck,” he groans as his fingertips make contact with your wet folds. His hands are much bigger and stronger than yours, the sensation causes your eyes to flutter shut.

You move your hands down to his already hard cock, rubbing it up and down, somehow making it harder. Your mouth falls agape as he slips a digit into you, cool water still running over your body.

He takes your lower lip in between his, sucking on it in the process. He slowly pushes you back so your body meets the tile shower wall. One hand working between your legs and the other palming at your chest has you seeing stars. Your head rolls back, giving him access to suck and nip at your neck.

Fuck, why had you not done this sooner? He had been right across the hall all summer and only now were you finally experiencing what you had been daydreaming about.

“Peter,” you moan out, continuing to stroke his erection, “I need you.”

He mumbles into your neck, now littered with red splotches. He curls his fingers up into you, making your legs buckle a little, “Fuck,” you gasp out, “please.”

“Peter I need you to fuck me,” you can feel him smile into your skin, “but I’m worried about running u your water bill.”

“You don’t want me to take you right here?” he pushes against you so your back is flat up against the wall. All you can do is moan in response, his fingers still making work inside you.

Slowly detaching his lips from your chest and removing his fingers from you, he moves back into the water to turn the shower off. While he faces away, you slowly drop down to your knees, thighs spread apart and tongue laying flat out of your mouth.

You look up at him with big blinking eyes as he turns around to face you.

“Holy shit,” he hovers above you, “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, right?”

“Can I?” you ask as your head moves towards his cock. He nods and gives you permission before you lick a long stripe up the underside. His eyes closed and his head falls back as you take his tip into your mouth, rolling your tongue around his sensitive head.

“You’re sure this isn’t just because I’m Spiderman?” he manages to ask in between deep breaths.

“Peter,” you pause your sucking and continue to stroke him, “I’ve thought about having your cock in my mouth every day this summer. Every time we rode the elevator together, or passed each other in the hallway, I’ve wanted you.”

You go back to taking his length into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, loving the noises he makes as you take him deeper.

“Do you want to go to my room?” He asks, “the bathtub floor can’t be comfortable to kneel on.”

You stand up and place a gentle kiss on his mouth, “That’s very thoughtful,” you kiss him again between thoughts, “I would love to.”

He takes you by surprise as his arms quickly lift you up, wrapping your legs around his firm torso. He carries you with ease to his small bedroom, tossing you back onto his messy comforters.

Climbing back on top of you, peppering your body with kisses as he makes his way up to your face, your lips finally meet with Peter’s again. You bite down a little onto his lower lip as his hand tangles its way into your wet hair, the other resuming its place between your legs.

You let out a low moan, only to be cut off by him whispering in your ear, “Will you sit on my face?” You pull back, a little stunned at his question, mouth parted at the way his fingers continued to twist inside you.

“All those times we were in the elevator or the hallway, and you were thinking about my cock in your mouth, I was thinking about you sitting that pretty pussy of yours on my face, riding my tongue.”

That sent a shiver down your spine that pulsed in your already soaking wet cunt. “Holy fuck” you could not even begin to explain how turned on you are. Peter easily flips you over so that you are now straddling him, his lips moving to suck down on one of your hard nipples.

You grind your crotch down onto him, missing the friction of his hand.

“Come here,” he lays flat down and guides your thighs up to either side of his head. Your mind was spinning with lust, completely fucked out and unable to concentrate as he uses his strong hands to lower you down onto his face.

His hands wrapped comfortable around your waist, fingertips diffing perfectly into your soft skin. A deep moan escapes you as he starts to lap up and down your slit. His tongue moves easily across you, lapping up and down, around your clit, into your hole, all of it. Your eyes were permanently rolled into the back of your head.

His grip on your waist started to guide your hips back and forth, rolling your core across his eager tongue. Every time your hips buckled forward and your clit made contact with his tongue waves of pleasure shot up your body. You couldn’t help but lean forward, using his headboard as support as he completely owned you with just his tongue.

“Peter,” his name comes out as a strangled moan, “I’m gonna come soon, fuck.”

He hums into you, adding vibrations to the slick wetness. “I want to come on your cock, fuck. Please, Peter, I need you to fuck me.”

Although you couldn’t get enough of his tongue, the way he was taking control over you, you were dying to feel him inside of you. You wanted to feel your walls clench around him as you came.

He laps a few more times at your sensitive clit, almost pushing you over the edge. He can tell you’re close by the way your thighs shook around his head, pressing against his ears. He starts to move, replacing his tongue with his fingers against your clit. He gracefully changes position, coming up behind you so you didn’t have to move at all.

You were already at the perfect angle, arms pressed up against the headboard and hips arched back for him. He continues to rub tight circles against you as he starts to run his tip up and down your soaking slit.

“You’re sure,” he knows you’ve already said yes, but he just wanted to make sure.

“Fuck, yes Peter please, please fuck me,” your words came out somewhere between a whine and a moan.

He pushes his tip into you slowly, and you rock back onto his cock, letting him slip deep into you. His mouth drops open for a second at the sensation of fucking you mixed with the way you looked with your head thrown back and ass bouncing against him.

“Peter, I’m gonna come please don’t stop.”

He picks up his pace, fucking into you faster while his fingers continued to rub your clit. He had only been inside you for a few moments, and he could already feel your tight walls gripping around his length, your orgasm washing over you and dripping all over his cock.

You fall forward a little, letting out gravely moans of his name and profane language. He fucks you through your orgasm, not letting up as you start to come down. He can start to feel your legs shake, so he removes his hand from your clit and takes a firm grip on either side of your ass. He kneads your flesh as he continues to bury his dick into you.

You were almost flat down on your stomach, hips still angled up for him, face buried into the pillows to muffle your loud moaning screams. He wanted to see your face as you cried out his name, so he pulls out and gently rolls you over, kissing up your thighs to give you a second to readjust.

He thought you looked incredibly beautiful, with your hair sprawled out around your head, your lips puffy and eyes fluttered shut.

He takes your chin between his thumb and his hand to angle your face up to his, kissing you passionately and deeply as he slipped back into you. You moan into the kiss, hands coming up to his hair.

He held one of your thighs back with his hand, giving him perfect access. Through fucking you he never stopped kissing you, only coming up to gasp for air when he felt you clench around him in pleasure. His thumb rubbed across your cheek, hand tucked perfectly under your jaw.

He loved the way you would whisper his name in between kisses, rolling your hips up into his.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, the way his dick swelled inside you as you sucked a mark onto his neck was a dead giveaway.

“You’re gonna make me cum, fuck,” he whispers to you, only encouraging you to grind your hips up more and kiss him harder.

He jolts back up onto his knees, pulling his dick out and rubbing the tip across your lower stomach as his come shoots out. You lift your hips up, collecting his come all on your stomach and dripping some down onto your inner thighs.

You can’t help but gawk at him as you watch him come undone, the way his brow furrowed and lips parted, the veins in his arm bulging as he stroked his cock.

He takes his length in his hand and rubs his red tip up and down your thighs, rubbing his come into your skin, spreading it around from your stomach to your legs. He slips back into you, slowly thrusting a few times before pulling back out.

“Holy shit,” you sigh as he lays down next to you, “that was…fucking hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” he laughs.

He buries his head into your shoulder, leaving soft kisses across your skin.

“Um, can you get me a towel,” you laugh, gesturing to all the fluid on your lower half.

“Hmmm, no I don’t think so,” he jokes, “I think I want you right here, just like this for a while.”

“You certainly earned it,” you joke back before he hops up, grabbing a warm wet towel to wash you off with.

“Damn, well now I hope my water never comes back on,” you quip as he flops back down next to you.

“You are welcome to come use mine any time, even if yours is working fine.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course.”

#peter parker smut #spider man smut #spider man fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #spider man fic #smut #marvel smut #college au #ask #Anon #request #peter parker #spiderman smut #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader

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currentfandomkick · 5 years ago

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this part 6

this part was broken in two for my sanity.

first part here previous part here ao3 here

Bruce is many things, including Batman. He is currently trying to figure out how to launch a search party for his daughter’s missing magic jewelry and to find the thieves. (god, he hasn’t even met her yet and she has so many problems. She needs him there already and he isn’t). He is a father to many children who are currently searching for her, and who only just thought to inform him of this fact. On top of that, he is Batman—Justice League, cases, and keeping up his aliases on top of managing his possibly injured son.

What he is not expecting is a call from Hal when he is mid-way through a case while keeping Red Hood down. He is not expecting for Oracle to patch him through, nor is he expecting it to include Diana and Arthur—granted they all know each other’s identities at this point, but still. He would like to be uniform when his allies call him for work. Instead, he’s in civvies, in Jason’s room on his laptop keeping his son in place by sitting at the foot of his bed and shooting him looks on occasion. The only mercy was it being audio only.

“Batman we need to have a talk,” Hal stated.

Jason decided to make a break for it while Bruce was distracted. Bruce tackled his son and dragged him back to bed. “Little busy. Someone with Pegasus’ abilities dropped Hood into the harbor and he’s on bedrest.”

“I object to this treatment! I’m fine!”

“Not until Agent A clears you.”

“Fuck you B.”

“Hood.”

Jason stuck out his tongue and relented for the moment.

“So you’re aware he pulled a gun on a kid?”

Bruce choked at that.

Jason sat up. “First of all, dart gun with knock outs thank you very much, second of all, kid clearly stole Ladybug’s whatever that lets her transform, same with the girl using the cat that clearly has a lot of anxiety and definitely should not be in the field if she’s hyperventilating!”

Bruce could feel Diana being held back by someone. Possibly Hal’s ring, or Arthur.

“That was a teammate certified by the Ladybug and Chat Noir as allowed to use their miraculous given that Ladybug was needed on another mission at the time. Mr. Bug has appeared once before when Ladybug was unable to appear, and Chatte Noire is usually for solo stealth missions but was called to handle this particular akuma.” Arthur explained. “Your son attacked Ladybug’s team and has only made them all more unwilling to allow any contact after Sandboy.”

Bruce froze. His daughter needs help, and is denying the league the right to after Jason’s (well-intentioned) actions.

“Are they—”

“Ladybug has stated that the League may not approach her team during patrol, which was our main contact point. Miss Sting has become their representative for any and all contact, save one Amazonian historian,” Diana hissed. “She is convinced your whole family is trying to kill her now. You are to keep your house out of Paris until this is handled—if it wasn’t for the team being convinced that Red Hood was one of Sandboy’s creations, we would not be allowed to contact her at all!”

Bruce froze. His daughter is terrified of his family—of her family. She thinks they are out to kill her. He need to have a family meeting, now.

“I’ll check their locations and bring them back.”

“You better!”

“It is not wise to anger the Savior and Destroyer, so do so as quickly as possible,” Arthur stressed.

“Seriously Bats, get your house in order.”

“Hey, he’s not in charge of us anymore,” Jason tried to defend, only his voice wasn’t all there. “We’re our own people here. He just makes sure we don’t bleed out at this point.”

“Might want to work on that too.” Bruce wasn’t focusing enough to tell which of them said that.

Jason was shockingly quiet after that, typing absently on his phone.

Bruce needed to fix this. He turned on his kids trackers, only to find they were already in Paris, or… moving toward it. And comms were down.

“Oracle, report.”

“Sorry B, but I think they found her and we may have pinned down Hawkmoth.”

Bruce wanted to scream. He didn’t. “Report the identity to the League and leave Paris, now.”

“… Tim isn’t responding, Cass has plans with a family, and Steph is part of those, so you’re going to have to wait a day or so.”

Jason typed harder, but said nothing. Bruce could feel the self-recrimination and knew better than to intervene just yet. When he put down the phone (and when Bruce finished his own investigation on this matter) they would talk. For now, he had to wait.

---

Nino is a lot of things. Amazing director (albeit a tyrant as one), a top notch dj, and a superhero. He is also smart, charming, and very good at reading people and knowing when something is up. Perks of being Carapace and having Wayzz all the time—people’s weaknesses are a lot easier to spot now, and any fronts they try to put up, he already sees right through them. Especially when its someone he’s known forever.

Marinette has been on edge, around the same time as Ladybug started acting up. Granted, finding out she has a pen knife last year by her accidently using it to draw in class that one time did give him a wakeup call on Marinette having a paranoia streak on top of her anxiety, but usually the girl calmed down during school or when she was designing during breaks.

This time, that wasn’t happening. He’s… not sure how to get her to open up on this one. Looking over her shoulder and the constant twitching meant she was probably hit hard by Sandboy last night, and hadn’t recovered yet. He really wished he got a few hits in himself on the akuma—it always messed up everyone afterwards. And Marinette didn’t need the extra stress with her new designs for the Worst Father Ever’s company and tests that week.

And yet here they are, with her on edge. Most of the class was hit, and no one was at a hundred percent and all, he got that but…

“Sandboy?” Nino started, hoping it was casual enough that Marinette didn’t catch how frustrated he was with all of this. Ladybug was missing last night so Mr. Bug was there, Chatte was filling in for Chat and had an anxiety attack, the battle took way too long and it was so painfully clear that Chatte isn’t a hitter and that Mr. Bug is no strategist. Viperion stepped into that role with ease when he managed to get there, but still. The whole situation was messed up and he couldn’t fix it. Even when its hurting his friends.

Marinette let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it or…”

“NO! I—I never wanted to, I…” Marinette was at a loss for words again, tugging at her hair.

“Its okay dudette.” He made sure to take her hands out of her hair before she knotted it like she did when they were kids. She hated getting them out after, always cried a bit from how much it hurt with how big her knots would get and how uncooperative they were. “That bad?”

Marinette nodded, curled in a bit. “I never want it to happen for real.”

Nino wasn’t sure what ‘it’ was, but it couldn’t be good. He know how bad some of Sandboy’s nightmares were—getting chased by his own fear of absolute failure being voiced by his idols still stung to this day.

“Hey, if it tries to, you got us—me, my bro, your bestie and let’s not forget Miss “I am the storm” will be there.”

“And Kagami!” Alya added with a grin as she came over with his bro. “She’s already claimed the right to destroy anyone that hurts you.”

Adrien’s grin may as well have split his face. “She has, hasn’t she.”

Marinette turned to fight with Adrien, as something was going on between those two, Adrien clearly had an idea what it was, but given the whole thing with Luka’s fans getting on her back about using him to get famous and the fall out…

Nino shook his head to banish that particular akuma—fans are the worst kind of akuma. Love akuma are really annoying in their abilities, but he can defend against all of their power-sets so far. Fan akumas are always wildcards and he’s usually not the most helpful against them.

He hopes he can keep Ladybug and Marinette safe. His job is to defend and shelter—in and out of the mask. That’s what he’s decided to do, at least.

“Aw, look at them. Now if only they were like this back when operations secret garden was a go.”

Nino raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing you need to worry about, before we got together.”

“Uh huh.” Nino could and would worry about it. Was that a ‘get them together’ operation or a ‘teach Adrien and Marinette how to be people and no run from the sight of each other’ operation? First year ops outside of the mask were weird and he wasn’t in on them until a few months after he and Alya finally got together (at his best bro and favorite dudette’s brand of meddling).

Adrien is glad for many things since getting the ring. One of them is his partner and after finding out who she was (post-‘oh my god she hates me as a civilian’ episode), her brand of scheming. Which included (after he got her to conceded that his father may be bad but he is not Hawkmoth level bad) her managing to end up as his Father’s current ‘mentee’ of choice after she won the hat competition, and he showed off the scarf she made him last year. Gabriel had a rule of not working with designers that hadn’t made a name for themselves already—Marinette had by the time she was fourteen as MDC—Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale’s joint-custody personal designers.

Father only found out MDC was Marinette from the scarf. He’d met Clara again at an event and she had the same style of embroidery and threading. Only it was after Adrien got his scarf.

Marinette plotted this--down to the fashion week event and Clara going to talk to Gabriel about his opinion on the work done to her scarf and how long he thought it would take MDC to make the same thing on a dress, roughly, since the designer does the embroidery by hand instead of letting Clara’s seamstress handle it given the intricate lace-like pattern.

Gabriel had called Marinette on the landline—the landline—that night and offered to mentor her on how to broaden her work for the masses, without taking away from her school and downtime, or interfering with MDC’s work.

So far, Marinette has gathered them a pool of seventy two people, name and contact information, that Markov, Max and Alya are co-investigating as Hawkmoth.

The trade off to all of that is “Marinette” brand consultation under the Gabriel brand, a studio with walk-in and appointed consultations, and being there on time.

Adrien managed to get them there a half hour early, and she still wasn’t relaxed. The unofficial appointment is in twenty minutes, and Marinette is shaken from Sandboy, but doesn’t want to talk about anything Miraculous, and he hasn’t had time for videogames lately, so. Distraction time.

“How did you get into fashion again?” Adrien toyed with his phone, knowing damn well how she ended up this far into fashion, but he did love watching her get worked up and go off.

“First of all, this industry doesn’t make anything for you if you’re short that isn’t petite, and that’s a nightmare to look for as a kid. Then there was Maman having trouble finding things that fit her nicely and from there looking for women’s or girls clothes is just disappointment after disappointment.”

“How so?” Adrien hid his grin behind his phone.

“How—how so! Your father keeps wanting me to keep pockets out of designs because real pockets aren’t ‘in’ for women’s fashion. Lies! They are always in, women always want pockets and real pockets! Pockets are wonderful and the deeper the better.”

“Mh hm.” Adrien knew that from previous rant sessions.

“Then there’s the whole lack of body types and fits and don’t get me started on every white shirt being seem through, or a button up that doesn’t button right, or both. There is a reason why I make clothes for Mylene and her mom since I started doing commissions in the first place, and that is only one of them!”

Adrien leaned forward then. “So anything else?”

“Fix the sizing system already—using measurements that we already use when getting clothes online for conversion charts, only no ‘small, medium, large’ just the amount of fabric at each measurement and a rough of how it fits on different sizes where from there!”

Adrien checked the time. Ten minutes to, and this guy sounded like the early type.

“Alright, better now?”

Marinette blinked a few times, rage vanishing as she processed what happened. “… yes.”

“Good, feel ready to work out a rough?”

Marinette smirked. “They won’t know what hit them!”

Tim walked in and decided this candidate was high on his personal choice of who he’s like to be baby bat. The girl had cookies at the ready with coffee (real coffee, making her much better than Marie Ann) and didn’t bat an eyelash at the Wayne name. So either cool under pressure, or doesn’t care for celebrity status, either way a bonus in his books.

Then came how she just… had that same look Bruce gets when working out one of Riddler’s puzzles, only while she was working out a suit for him. She was just in charge of the design portion—Gabriel assured him he’d check over the whole thing and handle production and all. But this suit she worked out in minutes—even grumbling about making sure his pockets were at easy access level for him to grab his phone in case of emergencies and checking over his phone to shape the pocket and cut with that in mind—he likes it.

Given her features, she wouldn’t be out of place in the family—blue eyes and black hair for the win once again. And she clearly understood professionalism, even if she was being monitored by Gabriel’s son who seemed content to let her operate without asking any questions beyond asking him if he had any fabrics he didn’t want or any skin sensitivities.

Her measurement taking was faster than he was used to with tailors, and she admitted it was a double check and checking the fits he already uses to further incorporate it into the design.

No matter how this pans out, he’s decided he’s keeping her on as a designer at the very least. And that Janet’s DNA test comes back negative. This Marinette is his new favorite pick, and she wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Plus, she already wears her hair like Ladybug and turned that into a casual nickname, so extra bonus on secret identity keeping cred if she is.

Now he just needs to find out if she really is and then drop the bomb on her while working out if she’s undercover working Gabriel/Hawkmoth, or not. If she is, damn. If not, he’s giving her ‘spot the bad guy’ lessons, price—one cup of coffee.

next part is in the works, its just a lot lore-wise and detective-wise with bats talking to Baby Bat with No Idea its Baby Bat until whoops, too late. Oops

anyone knows how to add the readmore, feel free to comment or message me

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml au #marinette did not sign up for this #part 6 #long post

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jay-m3 · 5 years ago

Text

Death Note x Male Reader

Warning: read at your own risk. Will contain smut, manipulation, homophobia and so much more.

The class is so boring! I already know English, ugh… You sighed, watching as the teacher goes on and on about God. You look at the book in front of you and trace over the letters to keep you busy. “Listen to the voice of God then follow it and know that in time you will find your salvation.” The teacher reads the line that you're tracing. If God was real...will people change their behavior? You thought, shrugging your shoulders. You’ll find out once you're dead. “Yagami, are you still with us?” You look over your shoulder to see your best friend being called out. “Can you please translate the following sentence into English.” You cover your mouth to hide your snort and quickly look back to the book, not wanting to be called out. Light is smart, no question asked but sometimes you always see him in la-la land these past couple of months. He might be going through the stage like every teen has where they are stressed and anxious about what to do next with their lives since this is their last year here in this dump. Like you! Your anxiety has risen since you don’t know what can come next and if you can make it in this cruel twisted world but thankfully, Light has got your back and has been helping you sort out your life.

You want to do that too with Light but...he never lets you in. Even if you were best friends since kids, it’s hard to get the boy to talk about his feelings. You know that it isn’t the ‘what’s next in life’ since you know that he wants to be like his dad in joining the police. If it’s not that then what’s bothering him? Is it about his sexuality? He came out to you three months ago that he’s bisexual. It’s hard to accept your true self and sometimes figuring out what you like and are is very difficult. Nothing is easy. Hell, when you came out to Light a year ago, you thought that you were Pan or bi. It’s been rough but you finally know that you’re gay. It’s hard when you came out to Light but you put your trust in him and now you're glad you did since he was accepting and he also came out to you!

___

“What is that big brain of yours thinking about?” You gave your toothy smile at the tall brown-haired boy. “Huh? Oh nothing, just hungry.” Light smiles at you, his hand rubs his stomach. You nod your head and point at him. “You got it! I’ll buy us something in the cafeteria then, be right back.” You take out your wallet and start to make your way to the cafeteria. You will do anything in your power to make him happy as much as he makes you happy. Quickly getting the food you run to Light who puts something in his bag. “Hey, whatcha got there?” “That was fast, (Y/N).” He says grabbing the chips and water bottle that you got for him. “Hey, don’t distract me. I see you be sneaky and I want in! Is it money?” You both make your way out of the school gates. “Oh, I just found a notebook. Nothing special.” “Bet. Must be someone’s dairy...is it mine?” Light laughs at your joke and shakes his head. “I’ll show you when we get to my house.”

___

“You should start learning how to drive Light. I can’t be your taxi all the time.” You lock your car once Light and yourself get out. “Not my fault you turned 18 first.” ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s probably the one thing that I can beat you with, Mr. smartass.” You both walk into the Yagami household. “I’m home!” Light calls out. Both of you head to Light’s room and you shut the door and look over to Light to see him take out a notebook with ‘Death Note’ written across it. “Okay, that’s something else.” You say sitting down on his neat clean bed. “Yeah, wait till you know what it says inside of it.”

“...if someone does write a name in that book, does that make them a murderer?” You ask rereading the text carefully, flipping the pages. “No way. Either way, it’s probably a dumb prank.” You nod, giving back the cool looking notebook and grab your bag. “Welp, I gotta go home. I have to be there before my mom chews me out for not taking out the trash this morning.” You say, giving Light a hug.

___

“Tell your family I said hi.” You called out to Light who nods and closes your car’s door. You watch him get inside and start making your way to your work. It’s nothing special but you love it since it's self employed and you love the outdoors. You get out of your car and park it and make your way to a customer’s front door. Knocking, you can hear a dog barking inside and the owner trying to shush it. You smooth down your shirt when the door opens and you see a female with a German Shepherd on a leash. “Hi, here is Lady and I’ll pay you once you return her like always.” She smiles and gives you the leash. “Like always.” You repeat and start making your way to the next house. Being a dog walker has it’s up and down like any other job. But being around the animals gives you peace and watching people go up to you to ask if they can pet them always brings a smile to your face. It’s nice having human interactions other than your family and the Yagami family. Having six dogs always overwhelms you but it gets you paid well. Stopping in front of a shop that has TV's stacked on each other with sound. You unzip your bag and pull out two water bottles and four plastic water bowls, once you get the dogs settled down, you look at the TV's to see that it was the news.

"The same assailant who attacked 6 people at a busy shopping district in Shinjuku yesterday has struck again, taking 8 people hostage at this daycare center. His captives include both children and teachers. The police have now identified the suspect as 42-years-old Kuro Otoharada, currently unemployed. We expect negotiations to begin immediately."

Wow, I wonder how this is going to turn out. You tune in more.

"At the present time, that’s all the police are telling us." Newscaster 1 informs.

"You can’t help but feel concerned for the safety of those hostages." Newscaster 2

"You’re absolutely right. We’ll continue to monitor the situation from here." Newscaster 1

"Thank you for that report. What do you make of this, Mr. Hashimoto?" Newscaster 2

"Well, one can only hope for a quick resolution to this situation." Mr. Hashimoto

I hope everyone turns out okay…

"Wait, we’re seeing something here! Looks like there’s movement at the front entrance!" Newscaster 2

"The hostages are coming out, and they all look to be unharmed! The Special Forces are taking action; they're moving in! We don't know if the suspect's been arrested. Huh?... Yes?... Ok, we now have confirmation. The suspect has been found dead inside! I repeat the suspect is now dead!" Newscaster 1 informs.

“Oh, shit…” You mumbled out, watching on. The whole thing intrigued you but you snap out of it when the dogs start pulling you away. All you could think about how karma bit him back. What a coincidence, really.

___

You quickly dodge other students from left to right. You’re sure you're not late for cram school because you set the timer on your radio earlier so you can meet up with Light but like always, you’re a little behind in time. Light wanted to talk to you, and said it’s important. ‘ASAP’ his text read which he only uses with you since your ass knows English. Finally seeing the door to your classroom, you sigh in relief and quickly get in, which was a bad idea since you bumped into one of the schools bully, Sudou. You instantly recoil in fear but kept your head held high. “Sorry.” You mumble out, not even looking at him, even if he cursed at your stupidity. One of the advantages of being best friends with the top student that’s also popular with everyone is that no one really messes with you and acts all buddy with you to get a chance to speak with Light. It’s a curse and a blessing.

You make your way to Light’s desk since the class hasn’t started. You stood in front of it with a sheepish smile when you noticed that he watched the whole commotion. “If he dies, will anyone miss him?” Light mumbles to you which has you scrunching your face in confusion. That was a weird quest-OH! The notebook. Snorting you play along. Leaning close to his face, you whispered, “You shouldn’t kill people you know. You’ll get busted for sure.” Light doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything. A second goes by and you both start to chuckle. Your (e/c) eyes catch his brown eyes and there’s a glint of life in them. Oh, how you missed that special look. It’s been a while. Your face is close to his… You could feel the warmth rising on your cheeks. Your breath falters and the speed of your heart increases. You knew that you have a crush on Light. You don’t know when it started, you just embraced it. It’s stupid really, you know that Light will never see you like that so you never opened your heart to him. The crush was big but now you can easily ignore it since you trained yourself to quickly exterminate feelings for one. It’s just part of being gay. Falling for people that you shouldn’t. Finding someone else gay is an accomplishment, finding someone that’s gay and have feelings for them is amazing and rare. Especially here in Japan but hopefully it will get better. You only had one relationship with a guy and that was the hardest to maintain since your both were closeted. You’re still in the closet sadly, you want to tell your mother who you really are.

Light Yagami, the boy that befriended you when you moved here. The boy that found you heartbroken when your ex-boyfriend dumped you. The boy that excepted you when you came out and also told you he’s bisexual. The boy that was there for you when your father and brother got murdered. The boy...Why is he getting closer? Light leans close to your ear. His hot breath tickling your exposed skin which sends a shiver down your spine. “It worked.” His voice low and raspy, which gets your blood pumping when he tries to whisper-wait. “What worked?” You stood straight, tilting your head in confusion. “Kurou Otocharada.” He says which has you reeling back in memories of today and finally connected the dots from the man that died to the conversation you two have been talking about. Your mouth instantly dropped and you look at Light wide-eyed. His eyes bore into your soul like he’s expecting something, your reaction of course. You know that he knows he reads others well by what he knows. He knew you for years and he knows how you react from stuff that he imprinted in his head. This is no different. “How...I want to see.” You slowly say. He was about to say something until the teacher walked in. “Everyone, sit down in your seats.”

You tapped twice on Light's desk with your forefinger. A sign that you both came up with as a secret code for; later, yes, be quiet and your favorite, I’m so gay. The last one, of course, is from you. Light only agreed because it amused him when you both go somewhere and get served by a hot dude when you both decide to eat out. You went to your assigned seat and glanced at Light to see him tap his own forefinger twice. You guess it's either later as conformation or to be quiet. Quickly, you turn your attention back to the front. Light already knows you, you know what Light expects from you. Of course, you will be quiet.

___

“I’m still in a space in my mind where I can’t believe it.” You say, walking next to Light to a convenience store. “To be honest with you, I’m the same. I need to know if yesterday was a coincidence or not.” Light sighs out, slowing down his pace since your short legs can’t keep up. You can’t help but swallow a lump in your throat that just formed. Is he really thinking to use that thing to actually see if it’s real? If it is then, what’s next? You look at Light from the corner of your eyes and breathe in a shaky breath. Light trusted you by letting you know what he thinks happened yesterday. He trusts you, you should trust him also. “Same.”

“Hey, baby where are you going?” You and Light both glance at a man on his motorcycle with his peers bothering a woman. Light nudges you to the door and you quickly walk in. You split from Light to go to the chip aisle and guiltily pick out your chips. You wish you can help that lady out but the guy has his gang around him. Even if one person steps up, no one will follow. That’s how bad the world is. “Takuo look out!” You quickly look up and see a truck hitting the guy that was molesting the girl at full speed. You gasp and drop the chips and make your way to Light that was standing in front of the magazine aisle. You look over at Light to see his surprise and shocked face. His hands gripping the Death note. Your heart dropped and your breathing came out labored.

___

“What a nice surprise! I wasn't expecting you home so early.” Light’s mom greeted her son once he stepped into their house. Light smiles at his mom, the memory of (Y/N) having his family car for the night instead of his mother came to mind. “Yeah. Hi mom, it’s because…huh?” When his mother extended her hands, Light knew what she wanted. “Oh, the results of the nationwide exams.” Light pulls his bag in front of him to fish it out. “I’ve been waiting all day.” She says, excited to see what her brilliant son brought to the household. “Here. (Y/N) says hi by the way.” Light gives his exam scores to his mother and starts making his way to his room. “Goodness! Number one again! These are the highest scores you’ve had. Is it because you started to study with (Y/N) so much?” His mom asks, even though she knows the answer. The last couple of days (Y/N) spent so much time with Light to study and she would hear them, more like (Y/N), laugh. “Yeah. I'm going to study in my room so please don't interrupt me, ok?” Light says, heading up the stairs. “Where is (Y/N)?” Light turns to his mother and tells her, “He took the car to cram school and his mother called she was needed in the hospital for a shift so she needed the car fast.” And with that, he went inside his room and locked the door.

He immediately grabs the Death Note, grabs a pen and starts writing names down. For a while, he stops and starts to examine the names he has written and starts to laugh. He can’t believe he holds something so surreal. “You’ve taken quite a liking to it.” Light looks behind him and instantly yells and falls down when his eyes meet with a monster. “No reason to act surprised. I am Shinigami, Ryuk. That used to be my notebook. Judging by your laughter, you've already figured out that what you have is no ordinary notebook.” Ryuk, the Shinigami says, watching the human in front of him stand to his full height. “Shinigami, God of death, huh? Well, I’m not surprised. In fact...Ryuk, I’ve been waiting for you.” Light gets up from the floor. “Oh?” Ryuk gave a surprised face, watching the human with interest. “I've already figured out that this Death Note that I've found is real. It didn't take me long. And now that I've witnessed the proof of its power, I only feel more confident in what I'm gonna do.” Light says, taking in the Shinigami in. He never has seen a God of Death. “That's interesting. I certainly wasn't expecting this. Several Death Notes have made their way into the human world in the past, but you're the first to have written this many names. Look at how many people you’ve killed in only five days. Most are reluctant to write this much.” As Ryuk says this, Light is thinking of a male that has pointed out many things about the Death Note. ”I've already prepared myself, Ryuk. I used the notebook even though I knew it belonged to a Shinigami, and now that Shinigami has come. So what will happen to me? You're here to take my soul, right?”

“Hmm, what do you mean? Is that some fantasy you humans came up with? I'm not gonna do anything to you. The notebook becomes part of the human realm from the very moment it touches the earth. In other words, the notebook is now yours.” Ryuk explains, looking at Light Yagami's lifespan. “This...is mine?” Light asks, surprised that the Death Note is starting to get his life more interesting. “If you don't want it, just give it to someone else. But if you give it away, I'd have no choice but to erase your memories of the notebook.” Light scoffs in his head, who will give up a Death Note? Even if he did, Light knows no one to carry out his plans. (Y/N) might be a choice if Light was there to push him. He knows the other male will follow his lead. “So, then, you're saying I can use the Death Note all I want and I won't be punished?”

“Let's just say this, you will feel the fear and pain known only to humans who have used the notebook. And when it's your time to die, it will fall on me to write your name in my Death Note. Be warned, any human who's used a Death Note can neither go to heaven nor hell for eternity. That's all. Now you have something to look forward to after you die.” Ryuk laughs at the end, knowing well how humans have died. A knock sounded behind the door to his bedroom and Light let out a confirmation that he heard the other person. “Light?” His mother calls him. Light looks at Ryuk to try and figure out how to hide the 8 foot Shinigami. Apparently, Ryuk saw the annoyed look that the human had on his face. “It’ll be alright. Answer it.” Ryuk eggs on, watching as Light slowly makes it to the door. “What is it?” Light asks, making sure that the door isn’t open enough to see the death god in his room.

“I thought you'd like some apples the neighbors brought them over for us. Why on earth is it so dark in your room? You'll ruin your eyesight.” Light looks over his shoulder in surprise. What’s going on? Mom can’t see him? He didn’t say anything, just grabbed the basket of apples from his mother and shut the door. He places the apples down and sits down on his chair by the computer while watching the shinigami examining the apples. “That notebook you found originally belonged to me, and since you're now using it, you are the only one able to see me, and of course, my voice can only be heard by you. In other words, the Death Note is the bond between Light, the human and Ryuk, the Shinigami.” Ryuk takes a big bite out of the delicious smelling fruit. “Yum.” He says, tasting the juices exploding in his mouth. Light looks at the notebook that was on his desk.

“I just have one more question I wanna ask you. Why was I chosen for this?” Light looks back at the tall figure only to see Ryuk shoving down more apples down his throat. “Hey, are you even listening?” Light’s jaw clenches. “Apples in the human world are worth the trip. What's the best way to describe these? Juicy?” Ryuk mumbles out, more to himself. “Just answer my question.” Light asks, well more like demands. Scoffing, Ryuk looks at the human, “I didn't choose you. Don't you see? This is all just an accident. You actually thought you were chosen because you're so smart or something? Don't be so vain. It just happened to fall around here, and you just happened to pick it up. And that's all there is to it. That's why I wrote the instructions in English, the most popular language in the human world.” “Then why did you drop it in the first place? You even wrote down specific instructions, so don't try telling me this was an accident!”

“You're asking me why? I did it 'cause I was bored.” Ryuk answers, not bothered by the human’s anger, more like amused. “You were bored?” Light deadpans, bothered by the shinigami's truth. The mind of the human racks for an answer but all in all, boredom leads to two different things. Happiness or depression. “The truth is Shinigami haven't got much to do these days. Most of the time we're either taking naps or gambling. If you take the time to write names in your Death Note, the others just laugh at you for working so hard. Even if you wrote the name of another Shinigami, it'd be pointless because they wouldn't die. And since we live in the Shinigami Realm, it brings us no amusement to kill those in the human world either. So I figured I'd have more fun if I came down here myself. Anyway, I'm surprised at how many names you've written, but I wanna know why you only wrote the cause of death for that guy who was hit by the truck.”

“If you don't write down the cause of death, the victim dies of a heart attack, and that's probably the best thing about the Death Note, Ryuk. You see, I've already exhausted the list of the world's major criminals, and eventually, I'm going to get rid of them all.” Light answers the Shinigami, not only for the guy that was hit by the truck but for all the names that he written down in the Death Note. “What's the point of doing that?” Ryuk questions, eating all this information up in his mind. “It's only a matter of time before people figure out that these criminals are being eliminated by someone. I want the world to know of my existence. That there's someone passing righteous judgement on the wicked!” Light can feel excitement pass through his body once more. The adrenaline kicking in. “Why even bother? What are you trying to achieve by passing judgement on them? I mean, why do you care?” Ryuk questions further, who knew watching a human do something passionate be so entertaining? “Because… I've been bored too. I wasn't ready to believe it at first, but it's obvious now. There's something about the Death Note itself that makes humans want to try it out at least once.” Light starts to have memories of all the times he just watched people do horrible things. How a boy by the name of (Y/n) got bullied because of his race.

-Flash back after Taruo’s death-

He remembers how (Y/n) pulls him out of the store and into an alleyway. His mind whirling with thoughts. His body was in a state of shock of not only just the guy that was harassing the lady but also the guy that was holding hostages. “I killed them both. I really… I killed two men.” He mumbles out, leaning on (Y/n) for support. “I...it worked.” (Y/n) mumbles out, disbelief written on his face. “Those were human lives, Light! You can go to jail!” (Y/n) gasps out, letting Light lean onto the wall behind him so he can ground himself. It won't be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgement on others? Uhh… no, no wait. Maybe I'm wrong. This is exactly what I've been thinking about lately. Light thinks, looking over at a shaking 18 year old. “This world is rotting, and those who are making it rot deserve to die.” Light says, getting the attention of the smaller male. “What are you talking about Light?” “Someone has to do it, so why not me?” Light straightens out, catching his breath from the adrenaline coursing through his body. “Light, this is…” He can see the other thinking it over. Can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to see that. “You're sacrificing your mind and soul!” (Y/n) whisper yells, looking at the alley's exit, in case someone hears. “It’s worth it.” Light spits out, watching the fear of the older decrease. “Because the world can't go on like this.” Light ends the conversation, watching the fear clear from his friends eyes and something new awakens Light when the fear gets replaced by amazement.

-Flash back in the classroom-

I've wondered… what if someone else picked up this notebook. Light scans the room, watching teens his age talking to each other. Is there anyone out there, other than me, who would be willing to eliminate the vermin from the world? If I don't do it, then who will? His eyes land on his childhood friend who gets up from his seat and makes his way over to Light. The (e/c) eyed male slips a piece of paper on his desk, leaning close to Light so no one can see them. He turns over the paper to show letters that form words. Toki Kark… Realization crosses Light’s eyes and he looks over at the short male in front of him. This person is the one that killed (Y/n)’s father and younger brother.

-Flash back in Light’s room-

Both Light and (Y/n) look at the notebook. Both came in here without any conversation. Slowly, Light picks up a pen and writes down, ‘Toki Kark’. He lays down the pen and both pairs of eyes tune on to Light's watch that you gave him for his birthday. That's just it; there's no one, but I can do it. After a minute passes by, Light looks at (Y/n) who has tears running down his cheeks. The older boy gets up from Light’s bed and gets on his knees in front of Light. Hands gripping Light’s thigh, (Y/n)’s eyes met with Light’s. “Thank you, Light… I owe you my life.” The boy whispers out, bowing at the taller man’s feet. I'm the only one who can. I'll do it, using the Death Note, I'll change the world.

-Flash back ends-

“At first, I wrote the names of the worst criminals I could think of. Like I was cleaning up the world, one name at a time, so that eventually no one will ever do anything evil again. And while the truly guilty ones who deserve to be punished for their crimes die of heart attacks, the people who are less guilty but who still make trouble for others will slowly be erased through disease and accidental death. Then and only then the world will start moving in the right direction. It'll be a new world, free of injustice, and populated by people who I've judged to be honest, kind, and hardworking.” Light explains, closing the Death Note. A shiver runs down his back, remembering how good it felt to see (Y/n) on his knees, hope in his eyes looking at him. No one else, but him. “But if you did that, it would make you the only bad person left.” Ryuk counters, watching a gleam cross over the human’s face. “Huh? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a hard working honor student considered to be one of Japan's best and brightest. And I… I will become the God of this New World.”

It's just as I thought, humans are so interesting. Ryuk chuckles to himself.

#deathnote #deathnotexmalereader #malereader #reader #lightyagami #llawliet #misa misa #kira #L #ryuk death note #gay nswf #gay smut #anime #light x male reader #L x male reader

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thanksjro · 5 years ago

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #16- All the Greatest Love Songs are Secretly About Heroin

Dang, been a minute since we got into the series proper. What all happened again?

Oh. Right. That.

…So anyway, let’s brush up on our Ultra Magnus history!

There was a massive fight on top of a spaceship. Swoop was there, Impactor was there, Overlord was there, Heretech was there, Killmaster was there- shit was lit. Ultra Magnus was doing his thing, though it looks like this was before he got LASIK done, because he’s got a visor on.

Then Ultra Magnus got shot in the gut and fell off the spaceship. It was so scary his hand started spasming.

Later on, we return to a place we’ve seen before, albeit from the Decepticon side.

Magnus, your badge isn’t up to code, my guy! Better get that sorted, before your current self comes out of his medically induced coma, invents time travel, and comes to beat you up.

Also, Pious Maximus? What is your friggin’ DEAL, bro? What the actual hell is your deal?

All the K-Cons start falling out of the sky, and Magnus orders everyone to take cover, as a familiar-looking bomb that literally has his name written on it lands bang on target. It’s such an intense experience, his hands start spasming.

Later still, Magnus is in the middle of dealing with the Simanzi Massacre, and it looks like his visor’s seen better days. Hopefully it was a reading pair, and not something he actually needed to see. Rotorstorm is also there, because his character apparently only exists to suffer. Magnus and his team rise from the muck and the mire, coming ashore right on top of a Cybernought, which promptly fries Magnus with its hand lasers. He gets so crispy, his hands start spasming.

For anyone having trouble parsing the scraps of rended metal that used to be Rewind of Lower Petrohex here, allow me a moment to break him down. That cylinder in the lower left corner is his camera, the wire coming off of it is where it plugged into his head, and that squarish chunk with the clean, round hole in it is probably part of his helmet. The other chunky bits I couldn’t tell you what they are, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that Chromedome absolutely put the dog to sleep with that blast last issue.

Inside the Lost Light, Swerve’s trying to be a nice guy by putting on some tunes for Ultra Magnus, who got his spark shot by Overlord last issue, but all it’s really done is make Ratchet get distracted.

Magnus is in a bad way, as was established by First Aid last issue, and it doesn’t seem like Ratchet’s having any more luck than had been predicted. Swerve’s here for emotional support, and also because he’s got medical training. Tailgate’s here for cleanup duty. Drift’s off in the corner making snide remarks about the medical equipment, probably because he’s mad his legs are still off.

Drift looks like he’s been chiseled out of stone here, and I kind of love it. Forget softboi uwu Dwift, I want more of this guy who’ll bite into a teddybear cactus and not even flinch.

Agustin Padilla’s back on the scene for this issue, and he’s decided that everyone’s going to be elongated in as many ways as he can manage in 20 pages. Tailgate and Swerve? Tallest they’ll ever be in the series. They’re as tall as Cyclonus, and he’s a fucking space jet. Someone’s got a chevron? You better believe that thing’s scraping the gotdang ceiling. Drift’s kitty-cat ears almost never fit into the panel, because those suckers are LONG today. It’s like they’ve all been put through a taffy-puller. There are a lot of little quirks with this art, but this is one I can kind of get behind, if only because it’s so distinctive.

Getting back to the story, Drift’s talking about the Death Clock here- no, not the animated band from Adult Swim, but an actual medical device that can calculate the moment a shrinking spark will give out, down to the second. It only measures the lifespans of the terminally ill, so Swerve hasn’t accidentally given himself even more depression by sticking his little hands in the shiny light without a thought as to what the device he’s messing with might do.

Ultra Magnus has about ten days to live. This makes Tailgate incredibly upset, because he, unlike everyone else on the ship, hasn’t experienced the horrors of war and death.

Ratchet’s right, though. There’s certainly a chance that Tailgate, who’s been shown to react to stressful situations by having panic attacks to the point of blacking out, could have a very severe response to what is his first major catastrophe. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder usually isn’t an immediate development, but being proactive about your mental health is never a bad thing if you can swing it. Hell, with how bad the Overlord situation was, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rung was booked solid long enough for Tailgate to actually have time to develop PTSD.

Rodimus is on the intercom to address the situation that just took place, because man oh man, was it a doozy. He intends to hold an inquiry to figure out just what the hell happened and how Overlord got on the Lost Light to begin with. As he tells everyone what’s going to happen, our focus shifts to Chromedome, who’s standing on the outside of the ship, staring off into space.

Man, I hope Chromedome’s on the front half, because this is a fucking grim scene to witness.

Skids comes out, having been looking for Chromedome. Trailcutter of all people pointed him in the right direction- which I suppose makes sense, given that he was on the Ethics Committee on Kimia. He probably would know Chromedome and Rewind decently well by this point.

Chromedome turns around to show off his mourning black Autobot badge, freshly photoshopped onto his chest for our viewing pleasure. It’s especially blatant when contrasting with Padilla’s rougher linework style.

Skids asks our brand-new widower how he’s holding up, and Chromedome says he’s fine, which is funny, because the other day he was all:

Chromedome has a moment of reminiscing, playing connect-the-dots with the stars like he and Rewind used to do all the time.

Skids, they were married for 250,000 years.

Skids might actually have been one of the worse people to have found Chromedome, if this is what he’s going to say, and then immediately leave. He’s so awkward and clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t want to be there. Does he feel weird about Chromedome knowing more about him than he himself does? Does Skids not have access to any of his memories related to mourning? Geez, I hope nobody needs him to help them through a difficult emotional time for a good while, because this was painful to watch.

Back inside the ship, Rung’s come over to Rodimus’ room to see what all the crashing and banging is about. It would seem our dear captain’s upset, and has decided to work through his frustrations by destroying his private quarters, perhaps in an attempt to summon the wrath of Ultra Magnus, thus saving him through the power of his own mess-induced rage. Rung comes to sit with Rodimus, I guess giving up his search for Chromedome, and the two of them discuss Magnus. Specifically, they discuss Magnus’ memos, and how much Rodimus despises receiving them, because they make him feel like he’s not doing his job right. He stopped even opening them, they made him feel so bad.

If you subscribe to the headcanon of Rodimus having ADHD, you could potentially read this as being a manifestation of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. As it is within the story proper, Rung’s decided to ignore this tidbit of information to get at the more pressing issues, like why exactly Rodimus felt the need to wreck his room.

This is about the point where the art for Rodimus becomes roughly 90% spot blacks, and it’s highly suggested that Rung get out while the getting’s good.

Oh, well this is going to be awkward.

Later on, we’re at the funeral. There’s five coffins, though not all of them actually contain a body. Everyone’s here to see their friends off, even Cyclonus, who was invited to the wake by Chromedome himself. Awful nice of him to do that, given their history.

The lineup in the front row is a bunch of chatterboxes, and they prove that very quickly as Swerve, Skids, and Whirl theorize on the contents of Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase, which is also here at the funeral. Swerve swears himself to the duty of finding out what’s inside, on threat of death should he fail.

A short time skip is had, and Rodimus is revealed to be wearing his ceremonial funeral cape and terrifying vampire arm spikes to this shindig, as he sends Tripodeca, who is surely the most beloved of all Autobots, off with as many kind words as he can muster in the time they have. Everyone says goodbye, and we get to Rewind’s turn. Rodimus has a moment of pause, as Rung gives him the most withering look I believe he will ever produce in the entirety of the run of MTMTE/Lost Light.

Rodimus concedes to giving Rewind the credit for saving everyone from Overlord posthumously, as well as Fortress Maximus and Chromedome, labelling himself as a failure on that front. Chromedome comes up to the podium for a few words on the love of his life.

…well, it’s been a long day for everyone, I suppose.

Chromedome sits back down, right next to Brainstorm because they’re besties, as Brainstorm stares him down like he knows something Chromedome doesn’t.

Probably because he does.

After the funeral, Brainstorm pays Chromedome a visit, finding him in the middle of spring cleaning. He’s taking all of Rewind’s stuff and shoving it in a box to be destroyed.

Does it count as foreshadowing if it’s like a page before the reveal? I guess so.

Chromedome is trying to ease Brainstorm’s mind about the inquiry Rodimus is conducting, saying that the guy ought to talk to Drift before he gets TOO antsy about spilling the beans- perhaps a touch too late there, Domey- but Brainstorm isn’t here for any of that.

So you’re saying Chromedome/Dominus isn’t going to be endgame.

Turns out Chromedome’s been collecting dead spouses, and he wasn’t even aware of it. When faced with this inherent truth about his personal relationship with grief, Chromedome only has this to say:

Time for a pop quiz!

When the burden of life is too much to bear, what is an addict most likely to do? Is it:

A) Quit cold turkey

B) Seek help for their addiction

C) Relapse

If you answered C, you get a gold star, and a harsh reminder that addiction is a fucking monster that will devour your life and meaningful relationships, leaving you with nothing but itself for company.

Chromedome has had a problem with injecting since he got good enough at it to get his own set of finger needles, and he’s been completely dependent on other people to get himself to even close to stopping the habit. His character bio on the crew roster page has, up until this point, outright claimed this.

Now Rewind’s gone, and there’s really nothing stopping him from just taking that pain away. Brainstorm certainly can’t do it, though not for lack of trying.

Chromedome says that he won’t go through with his plan, but Brainstorm knows he’s lying, because they’ve done this song and dance before. At this point, asking Chromedome to not inject is just a courtesy to the deceased.

No wonder Chromedome invited Cyclonus to the funeral- probably figured why the hell not, since he wouldn’t remember it anyway.

Brainstorm gives Chromedome a data slug- the last one Rewind ever made, shot through the door just before it sliced Chromedome’s arm off, and found by Fort Max. Brainstorm leaves, probably to go prepare himself for that awful, hollow feeling he’ll be getting the next time he sees Chromedome.

Over in the shuttle bay, Rodimus is addressing the crew, Chromedome is retconned into being Toxin because he’s not supposed to be in this scene, and Drift is named as the sole conspirator in the Overlord debacle. Rodimus just starts tearing into Drift, and while he does, we cut over to the medibay, where some zombie nonsense is going on.

Golly, seems like there’s some flavor of undead on the Lost Light every other week, doesn’t it?

Rodimus strips Drift of his Autobot badge and tells him to get the fuck out.

Back at Chromedome’s room, he’s decided to take a gander at what Rewind left behind, plugging the data slug into the computer.

Man, this part always makes me a little weepy.

I can’t do Rewind’s final message justice, not in the choppy format I present here- which is perhaps a bit ironic, given the nature of how it’s presented. In the final moments he had, Rewind pieced together a plea for Chromedome to love himself, and to remember that he was- and still is- loved. He shared his own fears of them being apart, and how he knows how hard the coming days will be. He begged Chromedome to be kind to himself, because he- whether he believes it or not- has grown from the person he was in the New Institute.

As this message plays out, we see Drift swarmed by furious Autobots, who get violent as he makes his way off the Lost Light, only to be helped back to his feet by none other than Ratchet, before climbing into a shuttle, surely never to be seen again.

Shane McCarthy slipped Roberts a twenty to set up a slowburn between his OC and Ratchet all the way back in MTMTE #4. This is the start of the pining portion of their relationship.

God, just- there’s a reason Roberts has claimed this issue as one of his best, and it’s this fucking message. Please, if you somehow have gotten to this post without reading the comics- well, first, how, and second- go and READ THEM. I promise it’s worth it, they’re beautiful and funny and full of heart, even when everyone’s being a dick to each other.

Rewind leaves Chromedome with one final piece, which probably didn’t feel like enough, but was all he could manage in the time he had left.

I’m basically legally obligated to post this panel.

Let’s take a moment to consider Rewind as a character. He’s an archivist, and one who’s gotten very good at his job over the millennia. The guy’s OBSESSED with history, and recording as much of it as possible.

Which stands to reason that he knew about Chromedome’s past conjunx endurae. I mean, why wouldn’t he? It would be public record- even if you don’t necessarily get a marriage license on Cybertron, Chromedome would have been on the paperwork with these other guys somewhere, and the fact that he wouldn’t be able to answer the question of “Who’s this guy you lived with for several thousand years?” Would imply some… rather unfortunate things.

Rewind also has a hard time letting go of things- he gets jealous of Chromedome’s past relationship with Prowl any time it’s brought up, and he’s still looking for his ex-husband after what’s probably been at least a million years. That, combined with the way Rewind lives his life- you know, recording every single moment of it- gives me the impression that he really, really wouldn’t enjoy the idea of being forgotten. He wants Chromedome to stop injecting because it’ll kill him, of course he does, but he also wouldn’t want to be erased.

The video cuts off, leaving Chromedome alone. It’s all up to him now, whether Rewind gets to stay in his heart now.

Chromedome/Dominus is still on the table.

With THAT crisis of love dealt with, we move back on to that weird zombie nonsense we saw a little bit ago. Ultra Magnus is missing. Odd, that.

Ratchet, how many times are your patients going to have to disappear from your medibay before it’s less of a “them” problem, and more of a “you” problem?

As Ratchet goes off to search the rest of the ward, Tailgate accidentally bumps into the death clock, which gives him a nasty little surprise: apparently he’s only got three days to live.

Yeah, this is the point where the comic kicks into overdrive, plotwise- there are no brakes on this train anymore.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 16 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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do you sing in the shower? Yeah, I have a shower playlist on my Spotify I sing along to.

do you think money makes people happy? It certainly helps, sure, but you can still be unhappy and unfulfilled. It’s not everything.

what's your relationship status? Very much single.

what time is it? 3:29AM.

what emotion are you feeling right now? Tired and irritated.

do you have netflix? I do.

have you ever traveled outside your home country? Once.

coffee or tea? Coffee, of course.

shower or bath? Shower.

what's your favorite pizza topping? Extra cheese and sauce, spinach, cilantro, green onion, garlic.

what's something that makes you happy? Beach days.

do you have siblings or are you an only child? I have two brothers.

what's your favorite instrument? Piano.

what's your favorite food? Italian, Mexican, and American.

what is something you are always losing? My mind, probably. <<< That’s how I feel.

are you good at spelling? I think so.

what is one goal you have? Get my health stuff under control.

did you get a flu shot this year? No. I never have.

what's your favorite Disney movie? A few of my top favorites are Alice in Wonderland, Winnie the Pooh, Toy Story and A Goofy Movie.

are you bored? No.

what are you listening to? An ASMR video. what's your favorite foreign language? Spanish.

what do you do when you can't sleep? My nightly routine consisting of scrolling through Tumblr, doing surveys, and listening to ASMR.

do you like cats or dogs better? Dogs.

do you have any piercings? Just my earlobes.

what's your favorite vegetable? Potatoes, spinach, green onions, broccoli. do you eat meat? Yeah.

what's the best concert you've ever been to? All of ‘em. Concerts are just a fun, cool experience.

what's your favorite season? Fall and winter.

do you still write letters? No.

what would make you really happy right now? If I was able to have beach vacay.

what's your favorite song? I have a lot.

are you good at giving advice? I wouldn’t recommend asking me for advice; I’m a mess.

what's your favorite hobby? Reading and doing surveys.

do you prefer to talk or text? Text over talking on the phone.

what's your favorite pair of shoes? My Adidas.

how often do you read? (as in books) I read a lot. I finish one and start another. There’s a few different series I’ve been into that’s been keeping me occupied.

do you have any pets? I have a doggo.

what's your favorite day of the week? I don’t have one.

are you in college? No, I’m done with school.

are you/have you ever been in a long distance relationship? No.

how do you typically listen to music? I use Spotify.

do you like going to the beach? I love the beach.

did you make any new year's resolutions? No, I stopped doing that years ago.

how old are you? 31 years old.

do you know anyone who is blind? No.

who is someone you admire? My mom.

do you have a good singing voice? No, unfortunately.

are your nails painted? Nope. It’s been a few years since I’ve painted them.

Are you an extrovert or introvert? I’m definitely an introvert.

what are you having/had for dinner tonight? I don’t know, yet.

do you ever write in a journal? This is my journal/diary.

if you could time travel when/where would you go? My childhood. what's your favorite animal? Doggos and giraffes.

what's your favorite kind of cereal? The sugary ones.

how was your day? It’s only 4 in the morning.

do you ever listen to classical music? Not often or regularly, no.

what inspires you? I haven’t felt inspired in a very long time.

how many pillows do you sleep with? Finally had to pack away a lot of them cause they were just taking up too much space. I currently have 4 on my bed, but prior I had like 10. I only actually use 2.

how many hours of sleep do you need? I never have enough.

do you have big or small feet? Small.

what's the weather like where you are? Miserably hot.

what's the most interesting thing you can see out the window? It’s pitch black out right now.

does/did your high school have a school song? Yeah.

what month is your birthday in? July.

what's your dream job? I don’t have one. :/

are you excited for summer? Noooooo. D:

what foreign country would you want to live in for 6 months? Hmm. I’d have to really think about that.

did you have to go to school today? No, I’m done with school.

win a million $$ or never have to pay for anything again? Never have to pay for anything again, obviously. <<<

do you throw coins into fountains? Sometimes.

do you have a trampoline? No.

what's your favorite song lyric? I have many.

what did you eat the last time you went to the movies? Popcorn and mini KitKats.

do you ever measure time in songs? When listening to music I sometimes do that. Like, when in the shower I measure how long to leave my shampoo in my hair that way.

do you know how to play chess? Nope.

what's your favorite game? (any type) Mario Bros, The Sims, various board games..

do you enjoy traveling? I don’t get the opportunity to do a lot of it, but yes.

do you tend to wait till the last minute? Yes.

have you ever owned a goldfish? Yeah.

how do you relieve stress? Cry.

without looking it up, guess the outside temperature? 82F.

now look it up - how close were you? Ha, I guessed way too high it’s only 52. It’s been getting really warm in the mornings so I assumed it was already high.

do you prefer digital or analog clocks/watches? Digital.

do you prefer to shop in stores or online? I’ve been doing a lot of online shopping the past few years even pre-COVID, but since COVID that’s all I’ve done until just recently as I’ve started to venture out to places like Target and Walmart. I haven’t gone to any clothing stores or any other store, yet, but I’m working towards it. Anyway, all that being said I do enjoy shopping online, but it’s nice to get out there and shop once in awhile. It’s definitely more comfortable and convenient for me right now, though.

do you enjoy coloring? I love my adult coloring books. <<<

do you like to dance? I don’t really dance.

have you ever owned a horse? No.

do you take selfies? Rarely. I did for the first time in a long time recently at my bro’s grad party.

do you ever listen to music in languages besides English? Not often, but sometimes.

have you ever cried from listening to a song? Oh, definitely.

what's your favorite song from a movie? I have several favorites.

do you prefer headphones or earbuds? Earbuds.

who was your favorite music artist when you were 10? Britney Spears, N*SYNC, Backstreet Boys, etc. <<<

when was the last time you had to go to the dentist? It’s been a few years.

can you speak Spanish? Very little.

what's the last thing you watched on youtube? I’m currently watching an ASMR video.

now what time is it? 6:09AM. I clearly took a break. Well, actually I feel asleep.

do you ever watch musicals? Yeah, some.

do you know anyone who's a twin? Yeah.

do you ever get carsick? Yes.

what's your opinion on wolves? They’re gorgeous, but I wouldn’t want to be near one.

when you're sad do you prefer sad music or happy music? I go for the sad.

do you like seafood? Nooo.

do you enjoy going to the zoo? I enjoy seeing zoo animals, but I hate that they’re in captivity like that. <<<

are there any celebrities from your hometown? Yes.

do you shower in the morning or at night? At night.

do you prefer to work alone or in a group? Alone.

do you go to the gym alone or with a friend? I don’t go to the gym.

do you like coconut? I like the scent but not the food. <<<

who is someone you're jealous of? No one.

what's your favorite place to go out for breakfast? IHOP, Denny’s, and this local place.

do you still have your christmas tree up? Ha, no. And I actually have the decorations in my room put away as well, which prior to this year I had up for two years.

do you have a favorite type of bird? No.

have you ever had an overnight flight anywhere? No.

if you use them, tell me 5 of your recently used emojis I don’t feel like checking.

do you know anyone that plays the violin? *shrug* I might.

how much money is in your wallet right now? Not sure, exactly.

anything you're looking forward to tomorrow? No.

have you ever auditioned for anything? Nope.

did you have a webkinz when you were younger? No.

how would you describe your aesthetic? I have no idea.

have you ever been told you look like a celebrity? No.

when was the last time you rode a bus? Back when I was still in college, so 6 years ago.

if you saw $50 on the ground what would you do? If no one was around, I’d pick it up and keep it. If it was in a wallet, I’d turn it in. <<< That’s what I would do.

do you know how to play any unusual instruments? No.

are you an early bird or a night owl? Both, really. Here I am at 6:17AM basically up all night. I dozed off for a bit, but still.

have you ever had trouble understanding someone because of an accent? Yes.

do you ever go to Massachusetts? I’ve never been.

do you personally know anyone who is transgender? Not that I know of.

what was the most memorable rainbow you've ever seen? (if any) Uhh.

do you remember anything from when you were 5 or younger? Just spotty preschool memories.

do you need to do laundry? No.

do you know anyone (including yourself) who actually enjoys math? Ew, definitely not me.

do you have a favorite poem? No. I haven’t read a whole lot of poetry.

if you were from somewhere else, would you visit your town on vacation? Uh, no. There’s absolutely nothing to do here. We’re not a vacation/touristy city.

where would you spend $100 if you had to spend it all in one store? Ooh, probably Boxlunch.

would you rather go to Japan or Greece? Greece.

now what song are you listening to? I’m not listening to a song at the moment.

what are you wearing right now? Leggings and a Mario Bros shirt.

any fun plans for the weekend? Nope.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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the-pontiac-bandit · 5 years ago

Note

miri + sympathy

Miri had never quite gotten the hang of pranks, but she’d certainly improved in her years with the Riders. Her ideas tended to be less subtle and more absurd, aiming for shock that could elicit an entertaining reaction rather than finesse in the prank itself. While she could appreciate finesse in the pranks of others--Evin did have a particular talent for it, after all--she found that successful execution of such complicated plans required far more work than she had any desire to put in. Commanding Spiderdeath--and avoiding being pranked herself--took plenty of her time.

It was only the look on Evin’s face when she saw him last week in the mess hall that had persuaded her to try. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, which was hardly unusual in and of itself, but he’d snapped at three trainees in line for supper and had failed to clean up the ink stains he left splattered all over the table he sat at alone with his reports. His workload had steadily increased in the months since Buri had officially turned traitor on the Riders to ride with the Own, and she knew he must be losing his mind with all but three of the Rider groups stationed at the northern border in the middle of the largest war in more than a decade, but even she couldn’t deny after that that he deserved to be taken down a peg or two. As the leader of the only group currently in residence at the palace, she’d known it was her place to take the initiative.

She’d brainstormed frantically for days. For all her creativity in cursing her ponies when they didn’t comply--even more than a decade after her first day, she still had what her trainees called an “adversarial and tenuous” working relationship with horses--she’d struggled to think of the right prank to take down a new commander by approximately three notches without ruining any critical paperwork, destroying Crown property, or getting herself fired. She’d started to suspect that this was all an elaborate prank on her from her group members. After all, she found herself the victim of an elaborate joke that threatened to ruin her sanity once and for all at least six times a year, but when she asked for their help with Evin, they’d simply informed her that they’d, of course, do as their group commander told them and left her to her own devices on the planning. Although, she supposed, that might have something to do with how intimidating they found Evin--for all that she thought he was a silly player at heart, with hair that flopped in his eyes and a propensity for wild and poorly-thought out gestures of affection for his friends, she had to wonder if he seemed quite so non-threatening to the brand new Riders who had spent a summer watching him wage a unique brand of psychological warfare that might have scared even Sarge, although he’d never admit it.

As she sat on his desk, kicking her feet against one drawer while she lazed back on her hands against some reports, she wondered if she’d gone too far. Certainly, Kitten had thought the ice slide was a grand idea, but Kitten was a dragon, and a toddler, and Miri would never have trusted her opinion if she hadn’t been quite so desperate.

It took ages for Evin to return from his meeting with the queen. She’d checked his schedule carefully with one of the Rider clerks, and he was expected back by the fourth bell after lunch, but the fifth was rapidly approaching by the time she heard footsteps in the corridor leading to his office. She used one of the last moments she had as he turned a key in the latch to check that the door to the courtyard behind her was still fully shut, apparently locked, and snapped around to face front as he entered the room.

“You’re on my desk because...?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Because last time I sat in one of the chairs, and you failed to notice my presence for a full twenty minutes.”

He’d been nose-deep in a sheaf of papers when he’d come in, a brisk fall breeze blowing leaves in behind him from the courtyard, and he’d walked straight past her. She’d been entertained at first, but it took a kick to the shins under the desk, after she’d cleared her throat several times, to make him realize he was not alone.

“It wasn’t twenty minutes! It couldn’t have been more than five before you left a bruise so bad my leg throbbed for weeks!”

“Weeks? My sources tell me you were fully healed not three days later when you met Sera Gladstone behind the merchants’ day-stables.”

“How’d you hear about that one?” Evin demanded, a hint of awe in his voice.

“I have my sources,” she replied with a pert shrug and a grin.

“I’d commit murder for your sources, Miri. You still won’t turn spy for me?”

“Wherever would I find the time? My commander gets fussy if I don’t have my Riders fully trained and ready to move at his slightest whim,” she shot back. “I thought your side job was a secret from the Riders, anyway.”

“If I can keep it that way.” Evin rubbed his eyes hard, smudging a bit of ink on one temple and leaving his cheeks ruddy. “Sometimes I think I’m one more late night away from cracking and telling the whole palace, just so George will kill me quick.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. I’ve got nearly ten daily reports to read and condense for George now, plus, you know, the actual war going on that Buri dumped me straight in the middle of, plus finding recruits for next spring when not a parent in the kingdom wants their child in military service, plus--”

Miri cut him off before he could get going. “Let’s take a walk then,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly, with a prayer to the Trickster that he hadn’t noticed.

“With what time?”

“With the time before dinner. You look like you need it.”

“It’s below freezing.”

“You love the cold.”

“And you hate it.”

Miri almost sighed before she caught herself. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten herself in this mess, but there were three gallons of purple paint strung up above his door and Riders waiting with very precise instructions on the roof, so she figured she’d best get moving before something came crashing down.

“I’d brave the cold for you, sir,” she said, with her best, most casual eye roll. “My Commander requires a break, and I’m proud to be of service.” She took on some of his own airs in her reply. She’d discovered in their years of friendship that nothing amused him so much as her attempts to put on his Player airs, and she had a vested interest in getting him outside before the sparrows who had agreed to participate left for the page’s wing and their evening meal.

He sighed as he pushed his chair back from his desk. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

“What?” Miri asked, doing her best to feign innocence. “Is a walk with your oldest friend that intolerable?”

“Miri, you have the worst poker face of anyone I’ve ever met. I’d actually like to rescind my earlier job offer, based solely on this performance. But if I’m going to get pranked, I’d at least like to make it quick so I can get at the reports you’re currently sitting on.”

His eyes darkened as he looked at the stack of papers beneath her, and he rubbed his eyes again. Close to him for the first time in more than two weeks, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the new wrinkles at their corners.

“You really are exhausted,” she commented, a twinge of sympathy turning into guilt in the pit of her stomach at the thought of the large quantities of bread dough waiting to cushion his fall at the foot of Kitten’s ice slide.

“I really am.” Evin was moving towards the door to the courtyard, steeling himself with a deep breath while he removed his tunic and folded it carefully on the chair behind his desk that Miri had avoided.

The twinge of sympathy she’d felt was now a wave, engulfing her and threatening to make her do something she’d never have considered even a half-hour before: back down.

“Wait! Maybe don’t...open that yet.” She hopped off his desk, wincing as several of the top papers follow her down. Evin paused, one hand on the door’s latch.

She looked around the room frantically for something long enough and found a poker, propped against the small fireplace in one wall. She grabbed it and leaped over the arm onto the chair where Evin’s tunic sat. She spared a quick giggle at his dramatic wince and then tapped the ceiling above her firmly, twice fast and three times slow. She counted to five and repeated the code for good measure--any good Rider plan, they’d been taught, has an out.

When she looked back down, Evin was smiling. There was a familiar glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that had been missing for weeks. “What was going to happen?”

“Kitten had made an ice slide, and Johanssen and Norris are on the roof with some purple paint, and I had the bakers set dough at the bottom to cushion you, and, well, things escalate from there. The sparrows are probably gone by now, anyway, and I’m not sure that Onua ever set up the wooden horses, she looked so annoyed when I asked...”

Miri trailed off, as Evin started to laugh. She let out a chuckle or two herself as she watched him lose control in fits of giggles, relieved to find that her friend was still there, under the stress and paperwork.

“You’re going to be great at this, you know,” she commented casually, hoping he knew how much she meant the rare compliment.

“I hope you’re right,” he replied, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as he caught his breath. “Anyway, could we actually go on a walk, now? I’d gotten rather excited to have an excuse to avoid my paperwork. I’ll even bathe in some of the purple paint, if it’ll make Spiderdeath respect your pranks, which are still absolutely terrible, by the way.”

“No purple paint necessary, but I do know the best spot in the night market for a good pasty, if you’re interested.”

Evin was nodding vigorously as he opened the door before he was promptly doused by several gallons of bright lavender paint. Miri groaned, realizing that her Riders must have rigged the buckets to the door and left for their own evening in the city.

Evin, though, was still smiling. “I’d still love a pasty, if you don’t mind the color,” he commented, holding a dripping arm out to her while he used the other hand to wipe his face.

Miri spared a moment’s thought for her clothes--she did like this shirt--but swallowed it as she took the offered arm and linked her elbow in his. After all, he seemed like he needed the night out.

#carrie answers #tortall #tamora pierce #the immortals #evin larse #miri fisher #my writing #anonymous #y'all i'm so sorry this is the longest one yet #and we have not proofread we die on our continuity and tense errors like men #(or women #as the case may be)#anyway hope this was vaguely in character guess who hasn't read the immortals quartet in years #also #in case you could not tell #this was TEN THOUSAND percent inspired by ben wyatt human disaster

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ohemgeeitscoley · 5 years ago

Text

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (2/6)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: Chapter count went up! As always, giant thank you to @andyouweremine @notababoonbrandishingastick and @storiesofimagination for all of the reading and cheerleading and handholding.

Read below or on AO3

Creepy Threepio agrees and Ben sends Rey a message to coordinate with her on getting Amilyn and Snoke in the elevator at the same time and when to meet Ben in the maintenance room in the basement of the building.

Everything goes completely and horribly wrong. Which really doesn’t surprise Ben, he knew that the plan was a long shot. But it does surprise him at just how wrong everything does go.

Rey is standing next to him, her jaw hanging open as she watches the disaster that is happening on the screen. Creepy Threepio looks overly thrilled by the scene in the elevator. Which with everything Ben has heard about him through the building grapevine, it also doesn’t surprise him.

To Rey’s credit, they did get Amilyn and Snoke in the same elevator. Everything went well for about ten seconds. Ben would give them that. For ten seconds their plan went absolutely wonderfully.

Then there was a flower delivery man that stepped into the elevator. Then Threepio stopped the elevator. Then Amilyn and Snoke fought and fought about what to do, cancelling and recalling the emergency button, arguing about who had cell service and just calling the fire department.

All of which was, quite frankly, bad enough.

And that was before the delivery guy really started to panic about being stuck in an elevator and took his clothes off and stood naked in front of Amilyn and Snoke.

Obviously, the situation took many turns for the worse.

But then he started urinating.

That’s what they are watching now. The aftermath of this man urinating in a small enclosed space with their bosses. Snoke is losing his shit, and if it wasn’t going to become Ben’s problem when those doors opened, he would find it a bit amusing to see him so out of sorts.

Amilyn handles it better than Snoke. She’s trying to comfort the man while shooting daggers at Snoke as she rambles on about stress incontinence and how it’s a perfectly normal thing.

“Open the doors, Threepio,” Rey orders, her face paling as she keeps looking at the monitor. “Open the fucking doors. We have to get them out of there.”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Ben says, holding his hands up when she looks over to him and glares. “I’m just saying.”

Rey doesn’t say anything else, just keeps her eyes on the screen, unable to tear her attention away from the trainwreck that is still occurring as Threepio takes his time to get the elevator up and running and the doors open.

Finally, the doors open and Ben watches as Amilyn and Snoke fight each other to get out of the elevator first, screaming at each other about their behavior.

“Yeah,” Ben sighs, watching as both Amilyn and Snoke walk off the screen. “Real good first meeting. I definitely think this is the meet up story they are going to tell at their wedding.”

Rey bites her bottom lip, one hand gripping the edge of the desk in front of her. “We’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” Ben rolls his eyes. “Rey, there is not going to be a next time. Did you not just see what a fucking disaster that was? Someone peed in front of them.”

“Yes,” Rey answers, with a small nod. “That is what just happened. So, we can’t really do worse next time. We’ve got nowhere to go but up from here.”

Ben stares at Rey, trying to figure out how exactly she is taking what just occurred to be anything but a certifiable loss. “There is no way. I’m not doing this again.”

Rey turns her attention to Threepio, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for your help.”

“Thank you,” Threepio exclaims, a wide grin spread over his face. His eyes are crinkled at the corners. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever done.”

Rey gives a nervous chuckle before pointing down at the small plant she had brought for him. “Don’t forget to water this guy at least once a day. Okay?”

Ben follows Rey out of the room. They both look at the elevator for a second, before heading toward the doors for the staircase.

“I’ll come up with another plan tonight,” Rey says as they start the walk up to their floors. “This was a rash plan. We need to pay more attention to the details and the variables.”

“Rey, I really don’t know.” Ben pulls his phone out of his pocket as it starts beeping. He holds his phone up for Rey to see. “Snoke is losing his mind. Today is going to be awful and we probably deserve that for trying to mess with our bosses’ love lives.”

“Don’t,” Rey started, before grimacing as her own phone started going off. “Don’t back out on this yet. One more shot. Just one more.”

Ben pauses at the landing between the floors, starting to read through the onslaught of messages from Snoke. One of them even suggests that he needs to find and fire the delivery guy. As if that is something in Ben’s power.

He isn’t sure what makes him agree. He isn’t planning on it. He is planning on telling her no. That this was fun, or, well, fun wasn’t really the right word for it. But it was something. A nice break to his usual days.

Her eyes are hopeful though as she whispers please and holds his gaze.

He’s going to tell her no. Absolutely no way in hell is he doing this again.

And yet, he says, “Okay. Fine. Just one more.”

***

“Ben,” Leia’s voice is demanding and clearly irritated over the phone. “You were supposed to be at the restaurant 45 minutes ago.”

“I know, Mom.” Ben sighs, spreading his legs out wider to stop anyone from trying to sit in the two seats next to him. “Snoke is running late. As soon as he gets here, I should have about two hours and I’ll head straight to the restaurant.”

“This is ridiculous.” Leia mutters. Ben can hear ice clink against her glass in the background. “I don’t know why you won’t just let me or Luke make a few calls so you can quit.”

“I don’t want to get into this again.” Ben runs his hand over his chin. “I want to get my jobs on my own. It’s important to me.”

“You’ve been saying that since you graduated,” Leia points out and Ben hates how he knows that she has a point. “How long are you going to put yourself through this? You're currently holding seats for someone that can’t even be bothered to be at his kid’s show on time. You work an impossible number of hours every week. Your pay is a joke. You haven’t made it home for dinner in months. There’s only about a ten percent chance I’m actually going to see you today, Ben. We both know it.”

Ben tilts his head back, briefly closing his eyes as Leia brings up with the same arguments she uses every time they have this conversation. Not that they aren’t good arguments. Everything she is saying is true. It just doesn’t change anything.

“You’re wasting your potential, Ben,” Leia adds at the end. Which is new. She hasn’t pulled that card before. “You could be doing so much more and you are just wasting it waiting for Snoke to open up doors for you that you don’t need him to open.”

Ben’s just about to respond when he hears Snoke’s voice in the auditorium. Ben sits up straight, turning his head to see him practically pushing people out of his way to make it to the front where Ben is waiting.

“I’ve got to go, Mom,” Ben says, holding his free hand up for Snoke to see. “I love you.”

“Ben—”

Ben hangs up the phone.

***

Rey’s spread out across her bed. She has her cell phone upside down and left on the shelf by her door. It’s 2 am and she is decidedly not going to look at her phone again until at least 6 am when she is getting ready for work.

She pops another piece of popcorn in her mouth as she watches another video of a sports event. This time it’s a basketball game and she’s zoning out as she can hear the music change to some cheesy song about kisses and the video focuses on people sitting next to each other for the kiss cam.

Kiss cam.

It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. It’s so much better than the trapped in the elevator idea they had gone with the first time.

Rey gets out of bed and grabs her phone. She’s about to text Ben her great idea when she hears Kaydel come in the front door.

Rey sets her phone back down and looks over at the “Will you be my maid of honor?” sign that Rey had found on her bed this morning. She picks it up off her dresser and walks out to tell Kaydel yes.

She’s going to be the best maid of honor for her. She just needs this plan with Ben to work out to have the time for that to happen.

***

“Okay, we didn’t do so great last time,” Rey says, tapping her fingers against Ben’s desk as she talks. “But our luck is going to change. This plan is going to blow your mind.”

Ben smiles despite his best efforts not to. Her excitement is contagious. It’s quickly becoming one of Ben’s favorite things about Rey. The positive spin and twists she can put on most situations is so different from how Ben sees things. It’s nice to have around.

“We’ll see,” Ben teases. “Are you going to tell me this great plan?”

“When I feel like I have your full attention.” Rey leans forward over his desk, to look at the list he is writing. “Lemons? Wire? Still working on this?”

Ben drops his pen on top of the list before rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. “Snoke’s kid needs the best science project for the science fair. Obviously.”

“Ah,” Rey says with understanding. “And you are doing… lemons to electricity? Very fancy. Definitely the best.”

“I hate my job.” Ben groans, shaking his head. “I’m twenty-eight, and I’m still an assistant. This is… not where I thought I’d be in life by now. Googling how to do a stupid middle school science fair project.”

“So, let’s make our jobs a little bit better by getting at least a slight increase in personal time added to our days.” Rey beams at him, pulling two tickets out of her jacket. “These are ours. I’m assuming you can get Snoke a seat at the next Yankees game?”

“Yeah.” Ben shoots her a curious look. “I can do that. What’s your plan exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

***

Ben’s been standing at the front of the Yankee Stadium for almost thirty minutes waiting for Rey to show up. The game is going to start soon and he hasn’t heard from her since she sent him a location pin of where to meet her before the game.

He’s just about to call her when he sees her running across the street toward him. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in her appearance. She is dressed in Yankee’s gear from head to toe. She looks absolutely ridiculous… and a little bit adorable.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” She asks, slowly moving her eyes up and down his body.

Ben glances down at the suit he had on. He doesn’t see anything wrong with what he is wearing.

“A suit?” He responds, lifting one of his shoulders up in a small shrug. “I came straight from the office.”

“No one wears a suit to a Yankees game, Ben.” Rey rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling and shaking her head just enough that a piece of her hair falls into her face.

Ben doesn’t think and lifts his hand up to brush the hair back and tuck it behind her ear.

“Thanks,” Rey blushes as Ben pulls his hand back from her face. She glances down away from Ben for a moment, but Ben is almost sure he sees her lips twitch up in a smile.

“You’re late,” Ben points out, trying to distract himself from the way his heart is beating faster when she looks back up at him and her cheeks are still slightly pink. They start walking toward the line to go through security. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Forever?” Rey scoffs. “You’re such a drama queen. I had to get supplies.” She waves the foam finger in her hand as an example. “I over dicked around.”

“You what?” Ben laughs.

“You know. I over dicked around.” Rey says the phrase again as if it is a common expression. “I got down here early to get everything set up with the kiss cam. And then I saw this cute shirt,” she points at the button up jersey shirt she is wearing. “Then I figured you’d need a foam finger to show your team spirit, which clearly I was right about, Mr. I-wear-a-suit-to-a-baseball-game.”

She pauses as they get closer to the front of the line, pulling the tickets out of her bag.

“I lost track of time.” She continues, giving him an apologetic look. “I still can’t believe you are wearing a suit.”

“I didn’t realize there was a dress code for a baseball game.”

“Comfort,” Rey teases as she hands her tickets, before grabbing on to Ben’s hand and pulling him through the crowd. “You should be comfortable at a baseball game.”

“Maybe I find suits to be comfortable.”

“You’re so weird.” Rey says, letting go of his hand as the crowd around them thins. Without much thought, Ben reaches forward to grab onto her hand again. He pauses just before his fingers would brush against hers, remembering that he has no reason to hold Rey's hand. He just wants to. His hand falls back to his side as he follows Rey as she starts heading up the stairs to their seats.

***

“You got everything set up?” Ben asks, tilting the popcorn bag that he had grabbed during the third inning toward Rey.

Rey assumed when he left he needed a little bit of a break from the group of teenagers that had bombarded him with questions when they sat down. Rey introduced each of the kids to him, and she introduced Yoda, the sweet old man who ran the group home that the kids were placed in.

“Yep,” Rey answers, throwing a piece of popcorn into her mouth as she smiles at Ben. “I think I can sort of see them?” She adds, squinting her eyes down toward where Snoke and Amilyn are sitting next to each other.

Ben had taken off his suit jacket and his tie after one of the teenage girls sitting next to them had joined Rey in making fun of him for looking so formal. He had also rolled his sleeves up to just below his elbow. Between that particular look and the way his hair softly moved with the gentle breeze, Rey is fairly distracted by how attractive she finds him.

“Me too,” Ben says. “They don’t look like they are yelling at each other.”

“Very promising.”

“It’s definitely a step up from the elevator incident,” Ben teases, bumping his shoulder against Rey’s. “I’ll give you that.”

“I told you we could do better,” Rey reminds him. “I have a good feeling about this.”

Rey watches the game, groaning when the umpire makes a bad call with the rest of the crowd. The atmosphere and sense of belonging in a crowd that came along with being at a live sporting event has always been one of Rey’s favorite feelings. She fell in love with it during her first minor league hockey game that she went to when she was 10. She loves watching the kids next to her fall in love with the same feeling.

“They aren’t even watching the game,” Rey complains, glancing over at Ben who seems into the game at least. “I know we set them up to come to the game, but with seats like that, I would be falling over myself.”

Ben looks off to the side for a few seconds before he responds. "I’ve had seats like that before," he says and he sounds almost ashamed to admit it to Rey. "I didn't appreciate them then."

"That's okay." Rey shoves her shoulder up against his, softly laughing. "I bet you will next time."

Ben looks like he is about to respond when Kiss Me starts to play over the speakers. Rey claps her hands excitedly before hitting one of her hands on Ben's knee.

"It's time!" Rey exclaims, her eyes glued on the jumbo screen, watching as the first couple gets picked out.

The first couple laughs before leaning across their seats for a brief kiss. The next pair does the same thing.

Rey loves watching the people blush, the quick glance to the other person making sure that this is okay, the shy smiles on their faces as they lean in for the kiss.

Her heart plummets to her stomach when she sees her face on the screen.

This was not supposed to happen. She's going to kill Artoo. Rey clearly and explicitly explained to him that she needed the camera on Amilyn. She gave him the exact seat.

Ben brushes his finger over her elbow. "Rey?" He asks.

Rey squints her eyes at Amilyn and Snoke's seats. They both seem entranced by their phones still. But Rey can't guarantee that they will remain focused on their phones and not on the giant screen with her and Ben's face.

They could get caught, Rey realizes, if the focus stays on them and Amilyn or Snoke look up from their phone.

They can't get caught.

So Rey turns her head, leaning closer toward Ben and kisses him.

He's surprised at first. At least Rey hopes the way Ben freezes against her at first is from surprise, but then he seems to melt into her, responding with passion she isn't expecting, one hand tilting her head to angle her better against his lips while the other brushes against the hair at the nape of her neck.

Objectively it's a good kiss. Ben's lips are soft and move against hers with ease. Rey's stomach swoops as Ben's mouth opens slightly. It would be easy to get lost in the way Ben kisses her.

There's wolf whistling and hollering coming from the kids around them when they pull away.

Rey stares at Ben for a moment after they separate. Her eyes are wide and there's a blush creeping up his neck and Rey hopes that her face isn't too red, but she can feel the heat on her cheeks.

She looks away, straightens her shoulders and sees the camera focus on Amilyn and Snoke.

They are still lost in their phones and Rey lets out a sigh of relief because they missed the kiss. She's certain that they didn't see her and Ben. Their plan can still work.

Rey focuses her attention on joining the crowd in cheering, trying to capture the attention of Amilyn and Snoke. It's a good distraction from the way her lips are still tingling from the kiss. From the way her thoughts want to drift away to imagine kissing Ben again.

Their bosses finally, finally, look up when the man behind them taps them on the shoulder.

Amilyn looks up at the screen and then over at Snoke. She laughs before shaking her head and looking back at her phone.

Snoke doesn't seem to understand what is going on.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Rey joins the crowd in chanting, smiling as Ben joins in as well.

They don’t.

Rey joins the crowd in booing when the camera moves away from Snoke and Amilyn and onto another pair of people.

“Fuck,” Rey mutters under her breath. She scrunches her nose up and turns her head to look at Ben. “Well, that’s two of my ideas that have completely failed. My bad luck at romance appears to be contagious.”

“We’ll come up with something,” Ben says, giving Rey a small smile. “Maybe I’ll come up with the next idea.”

“I don’t know Ben.” Rey shakes her head. “Maybe you were right to begin with. This is crazy. I’ll just have to find a way to tell Kaydel that there’s no way I can guarantee being able to do all of the things she is going to want me to do as her maid of honor. Or tell Amilyn that I’m going to be slightly less available to her for the next few months. Neither of which are conversations I actually want to have, but I’m an adult and I can--”

“Rey,” Ben interrupts her, placing one of his hands on her knee. He points at the screen with his other hand. “They went back to Amilyn and Snoke.”

“What?” Rey asks, turning her attention to the screen. Sure enough, Amilyn and Snoke are the focus on the screen, a glittery pink heart framing their faces.

The crowd is even louder this time chanting for them to kiss. The music changes to Kiss the Girl. It’s easy to get lost in the atmosphere.

Amilyn is blushing and Snoke still seems unsure of what to do as he keeps his eyes off the screen. Rey notices when he looks over at Amilyn though, as if he’s considering just going for it.

Ben is chanting loudly next to her, clapping his hands together to accentuate the words. Rey giggles as she starts clapping in time with him.

Amilyn bites her lip and leans over the armrest separating her seat from Snoke’s. Rey grabs onto Ben’s hand, shaking it in excitement as she watches Amilyn closes the distance between her and Snoke and…

And kisses him on the cheek.

Rey groans, letting go of Ben’s hand. “So close,” she says, tilting her head back. “So close.”

The crowd seems to be just as outraged as Rey feels, judging by the sounds that are echoing in the stadium.

“It’s progress?” Ben offers. “This is still going better than the elevator.”

Rey snorts. It’s strange to hear Ben being the positive one. She appreciates him trying, but she recognizes that he is only saying these things to try to make her feel better. Not because he actually believes that this plan is going to go anywhere.

Rey’s not sure if her disappointment is just because this means she’s going to have to let her best friend down or risk her job… or if she’s going to miss having a reason to talk to Ben.

Rey sits up, watching as another couple kisses on the screen.

“It’s basically the law that you kiss when the kiss cam is on you.” Rey complains, tossing her hands up in front of her face. “I’ve been to so many games Ben, so many, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone not kiss. This should have worked.”

“One last time, folks,” the announcer’s voice rings out across the stadium as the camera once again focuses on Amilyn and Snoke. “Why don’t you just kiss the girl?”

Amilyn rolls her eyes, but Rey catches the way her chest shakes slightly from laughing, the way her eyes crinkle at the sides in humor.

The crowd is far too invested in this kiss happening, Rey decides, as she and Ben stand up and continue chanting for the kiss to happen.

And it does.

Finally, Snoke places his hand on the side of Amilyn’s face and they kiss.

Rey cheers, throwing her arms up in the air in victory. Ben grabs onto her waist and pulls her into his side.

“We did it!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up from the ground.

Rey squeals, burying her head into the crook of his neck. She pulls back when he puts her back down, smiling widely up at him. “I told you I had a good feeling about this.”

Ben matches her grin, shaking his head. “Right,” he teases, the word almost inaudible as he laughs. “You had zero doubts this entire time.”

“Not a single one.” Rey drops her gaze to Ben’s lips, and she wants to kiss him again. To stand on her tiptoes and press her lips against his. She looks away, feeling the way her neck is heating up. Scratching at her neck, Rey sits back down and gives Ben one last, small smile.

“Now what?” Ben asks, sitting down.

Rey keeps her eyes forward on the game that is just starting to resume.

“Now… now we enjoy this small win,” Rey says after a few minutes, turning her head to look at Ben. He looks more relaxed in that moment than he has all day. “Then you get to come up with some ideas for phase two.”

***

The Yankees win. Amilyn and Snoke kissed.

Rey kissed him.

For a plan Ben had been so hesitant to agree to, it has so far been working in his favor.

Rey tugs on his hand as they head out of the stadium. He likes the way Rey keeps grabbing his hand, holding it when they walk. He likes the way her hand fits in his.

He’s starting to think that he might just like her.

Rey is practically beaming with glee between the win and her plan working. She’s chattering at about a million miles a minute about the game and stats that he finds oddly impressive that she has memorized. He doesn’t know enough about baseball or the Yankees really to follow half of what she says, but her joy is contagious.

Ben can’t remember the last time he smiled this much.

Rey’s phone beeps and she drops his hand to reach for it. Ben’s phone goes off a few seconds later.

“Oh my god,” Rey whispers, stopping completely once they are just outside of the stadium. “It worked. Ben, it actually worked.”

Ben nods, rereading the message on his phone. “Snoke isn’t coming back into the office for the rest of the day.”

“Neither is Amilyn,” Rey grabs onto his hand again, slightly swinging their arms together. “I don’t have to go back into the office.”

“Neither do I.”

Ben is a bit amazed that this actually worked. That somehow Amilyn and Snoke were off together and because of it he and Rey both are now free for the rest of the day.

“So what are you going to do with all of this free time?” Ben asks as they make their way toward the subway.

“I was thinking…” Rey’s sentence trails off and she bites at her bottom lip. She looks nervous. “I was thinking maybe we could go get drinks? Or dinner? You know, to celebrate the win?”

“Yeah,” Ben quickly responds before Rey is fully finished talking. “I would love to do that. Maybe I could even convince you to help me come up with some ideas for phase two?”

“Absolutely not,” Rey shakes her head. “But you can try.”

***

“Do you think we’ll even need a phase two?” Ben asks, taking a drink from the beer bottle in his hand. “I mean, maybe we should just let nature take over from her?”

“Nature?” Rey sputters, staring at Ben as if he’s grown two heads. “Ben, we need this relationship to work out for at least the next 3 months. It took two well thought out plans to get them to this point, and you think nature can just take over from here?”

“Well thought out plans?” Ben mocks. “That is one way of describing your plans I’m sure.”

“Hey,” Rey swats at his hand, laughing as he pulls it away from her. “My plans ended up working so no complaining about them. Besides, we’ve been here for,” Rey glances down at her phone, “almost two hours, and you have provided zero plans for phase two.”

“That’s because I’m still not convinced that we need a phase two.”

“We need a phase two,” Rey states as if her opinion is fact. Because it absolutely is what they need and Ben just needs to get on the same page. “So you better start thinking of one.”

Rey finishes her drink, running a finger across the rim of the glass. “I told Kaydel I’d meet her soon.”

Ben nods, finishing his beer. “This was nice.”

Nice might be an understatement. Even if they still don’t have a plan for what they are going to do about Snoke and Amilyn next… just talking with Ben had been great.

She knows more about him now, about his past, and his family. The reasons why he won’t let his family help him out. It’s hard for Rey to imagine having a family that wants to help and turning them away. But she can sort of see where he is coming from, it’s an almost foreign concept to her.

Getting to know Ben is nice. Talking to Ben is nice. Hearing him laugh and smile and watching the way his eyes lit up when he gets excited is more than nice. It’s doing nothing to stop her growing desire to kiss him again.

She probably needs to figure out what she is going to do about that problem later.

“It was,” Rey agrees, watching as Ben smiles. She wonders if he has any idea just how gorgeous he looks when he smiles. She wishes she was just a little more brave, or a little more drunk, to tell him. “Even if you have presented no plans. Or apparently even thought about a plan more than coming up with a bad argument about how we don’t need a plan.”

“I’ll come up with a plan,” Ben laughs when Rey narrows her eyes in disbelief. “Have some faith in me.”

“Okay,” Rey concedes, grabbing her phone from the table before standing up. “But just some.”

“Have fun with Kaydel,” Ben says, standing as well. “Enjoy your time with her.”

“I will.” Rey pausing, glancing away from Ben for a moment, debating her next move. Ben’s arms are around her before she has much time to consider anything, pulling her into a hug.

Rey grins as she wraps her arms around him. She lingers when he pulls away, stretching up to press her lips against his cheek.

“Good night, Ben.” Her voice is light and soft as she takes a step back. “I expect at least three options tomorrow morning.”

Rey can still hear him laughing when she exits the bar.

***

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kaydel starts, waving her hands around. Rey grabs onto Kaydel’s arm, pulling her away from a larger crack in the sidewalk. “You and the guy who you said was a—and I am quoting—‘giant fucking asshole’ kissed today?”

Rey rolls her eyes. That would be the part of the story Kaydel would focus on. “We were on the kiss cam.” Rey says as if it’s a complete and full explanation. “And Ben isn’t an asshole. I mean, okay, he can be an asshole. But he isn’t always an asshole. He can actually be kind of… sweet sometimes?”

“Oh my god,” Kaydel grins, clapping her hands together excitedly. Kaydel always talks with her entire body, but it’s more pronounced and with larger movements when she has been drinking. “You like him.”

Rey sighs, pressing the button for the crosswalk. “That’s rather irrelevant,” Rey says as they start crossing the street. “I don’t even know if it’s true. Can’t we just focus on the fact that I got off work at a reasonable time today and that I came up with this evil genius plan to make sure I have time to perform my maid of honor duties?”

“Absolutely not.” Kaydel rolls her eyes. “We are one hundred precent focusing on the fact that you kissed a hot guy and that you can’t stop blushing every time you mention him.”

“I’ve been, I’ve been drinking,” Rey tries to come up for another explanation for her blushing. Because she is blushing. She knows that she can’t stop blushing whenever she thinks about Ben and it’s a little ridiculous. She feels like a schoolgirl with her first crush. “My face always gets a little bit red when I’ve been drinking.”

Kaydel stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Rey almost runs into her at the same time that Kaydel turns around. Kaydel’s eyes are narrow and pointed, but there’s no heat in the glare that she is giving Rey. Kaydel places her hands on Rey’s shoulders and stares at Rey for a few moments before she finally says, “You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Real nice, Kay,” Rey complains. “I’m really feeling bathed in your love right now.”

“You should always feel bathed in love when you are around me.” Kaydel sways slightly, increasing the weight pressing down on Rey’s shoulders. “But that doesn’t make you any less of an idiot.”

Rey huffs, blowing a stray piece of her hair out of her eyes. “Why don’t we just go home? You can tell me more about what an idiot I am while we drink some water.”

Kaydel shrugs, turning around and looping her arm through Rey’s as she starts walking again. “I’ve got nothing else besides you’re an idiot. But maybe you can tell me more about this plan and more about Ben. I think I’ll like him.”

***

“Princess?” Han yells from the front door. He is leaning against the open door and the smug smile on his face is maddening. It only grows the longer Ben just stares at him. “Our son is here.”

“What?” Ben can hear Leia ask from in the house. He can practically see her shocked face with the surprise he can hear in her voice. He hates that showing up unannounced is such a rare thing that he deserves this kind of reaction from his parents.

“Are you busy?” Ben asks, stepping forward to go into the house. Han moves just enough for Ben to squeeze by him. “I can always leave if you guys had plans.”

Leia walks toward him and slightly smacks his arm before wrapping her arms around him.

“I was just about to kick your dad’s ass at cards,” Leia says, pulling back. “You can help.”

Han pats Ben on the back as he walks toward the family room.

“Do you need money?” Leia questions, her eyes narrowing as they all sat down. “Are you finally going to let us help you?”

“No, Mom.” Ben tries to keep the irritation out of his voice, but he knows he isn’t very successful with the look Leia is giving him. “I don’t need money. I’m doing just fine. And my job is getting better. As I assumed you could tell, since I’m here visiting you.”

Leia purses her lips giving an almost imperceptible shake to her head. “One day of getting off at a reasonable time does not make the situation any better Ben. Especially when it’s a situation that you don’t even have to be in.”

“How’d you end up getting off so early anyway?” Han asks, giving Leia a look that Ben knows is him telling her to stop pushing. He shuffles the cards in his lap. “I don’t think that in the entire time you’ve been there you’ve gotten off before 10 without a lot of prearrangement.”

“I got off at 6.” Ben is a little too proud in the way he says it, as if getting off at a reasonable time is some kind of accomplishment Leia is going to want to hang on the wall. “So I’d say things are going much better.”

“Off at 6?” Han starts dealing out the cards. “And what did you do for the first few hours of your freedom?”

“I, uh, I went out for drinks with a…” Ben pauses, pretends that he is looking at his cards and contemplating his move. Maybe he should have just gone home and hung out with Poe. Poe was less likely than his parents to ask questions. Most of the time. “A friend. I went out for drinks with a friend.”

“A friend?” Leia repeats, her tone far too knowing. “Does this friend have a name? Do we know him?”

“Her,” Ben corrects, rolling his eyes at Leia’s inability to be subtle. “And her name is Rey. You don’t know her.”

“How did you two meet?” Leia places two cards face down in front of her without appearing to glance at them as she keeps her eyes on Ben.

Ben keeps his eyes on his cards, debating the best way to phrase the way he and Rey had met. He doesn’t quite think his mom will be too thrilled with the truth. That he had pretty much stolen Rey’s food delivery and then asked for her to pay him back with interest the next day.

Even he was aware that he was kind of an asshole in that story.

Somehow explaining that she’s an assistant in the same building as him who came up with an idea to set their bosses up so that they can have more free time doesn’t seem much better.

He decides on somewhere in the middle.

“She’s an assistant who works in the same building. We met when we both were trying to get dinner for our bosses late one night.”

“Uh huh,” Leia hums and Ben hates that Leia just knows that there is more to the story than he is telling. It’s always frustrated him the way Leia can pinpoint every time he tries holding something back from her. “And you two are bonding over work?”

Ben glances at Han, trying to signal for him to jump in and change the subject. Han just smirks and shakes his head.

Not that Ben can blame him.

“Poe is really excited about your birthday party,” Ben says instead of answering the question, trying to change the subject on his own. “Thanks for sending him an invite directly. Instead of just having him tag along with me.”

“Well, I wanted to make sure that he knew he was welcome whether or not you could make it,” Leia tilts her head to the side. “With your schedule it’s not that it’s a guarantee that you’ll be there.”

“I’ll be there,” Ben sighs. “I promise I will be there.”

“Good,” Leia grins. “And you should bring Rey. If you’d like. We always love meeting your friends.”

“Always,” Han adds, tossing a card onto the table. “I’m sure it would make your mom’s birthday to meet your new friend.”

“You both know that I’m 28 years old right?” Ben asks, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “And that there is no way I’m going to bring Rey, who I’ve known for less than two weeks, to Mom’s birthday lunch. I would consider telling Poe he isn’t allowed to come, but I’m pretty sure you’ve both run through all of my embarrassing stories with him already.”

“I’m sure I could come up with a few more,” Leia teases. ‘And this is exactly why I sent Poe his own invite.”

Ben runs a hand through his hair. “Can we just play cards? Go back to you giving me shit about my job?”

“Sure kid,” Han agrees. “But we really are looking forward to hearing more about Rey.”

***

“Okay, what about this spot?” Rey asks, turning her phone toward Kaydel so she can see the picture she has pulled up. It’s a gorgeous winery just outside of the city. The pictures show the grassy hills, with the perfectly planted flowers, and there is a little stage that could be used for a DJ or a band.

Kaydel crinkles her nose and shakes her head. “It’s too far away. I don’t want to have to leave the city for my engagement party.”

Rey nods, pulling her phone back and resumes scrolling through the different results of different venue ideas. “Well, what have you found over there?”

“This place looks nice,” Kaydel hands her phone over. “The rooftop is definitely a good size, and it has a bar already set up. I think this might be the place. And they have availability on most of the nights Rose isn’t scheduled to be on call at the hospital.”

Rey looks through the pictures. It’s perfect.

“I say book it then.” Rey gives the phone back to Kaydel. “And let me know what night you guys end up picking so I can make sure I can coordinate to have it off.”

“Maybe you’ll bring Ben,” Kaydel teases, rolling over onto her side on the couch. “I think I’d like to meet him.”

“Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys from that new dating app you signed me up for.” Rey shakes her phone in the air.

“Sure, you could do that.” Kaydel’s face is inquisitive as she continues. “Have you had any good matches?”

“No.” Rey sighs, tossing her phone onto her lap. “I have had zero good matches. I’m starting to think there’s no hope for me. I’ve looked through hundreds of matches, and just, nothing?”

Rey decidedly does not mention that part of the problem is that she has been comparing every match to Ben. It’s not a fair comparison. Not everyone can be tall and handsome and have annoyingly nice hair.

And it’s hard to get an idea if someone is insufferable in an endearing way in the few sentences that are posted in the bios she reads.

The truth is that it’s hard to get any sense of who a person is on a dating profile and it’s one of the main reasons Rey is pretty sure she is never going to have luck finding a date on one.

“So ask Ben,” Kaydel says as if it’s the most logical decision. “I’d like to meet the guy that’s helping make sure my best friend gets to attend all of the important things for my wedding. And he makes you smile, Rey. You should invite him.”

“Maybe,” Rey concedes, biting down on her bottom lip as she stands. “I’ll think about it. But it’s late and I’m going to bed. I love you, good night.”

Rey tries not to think too much about how Kaydel might have a point as she gets into bed. Ben does make her smile. A lot. He also makes her laugh. And, yeah, he can be a little infuriating sometimes, but if she’s being honest, she kind of likes that about him. There was also the kiss at the game.

It was a good kiss.

One Rey doesn’t mind thinking about while she falls asleep.

#reylo #reylo fic #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylomovies #my fic

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newtafterdark · 5 years ago

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 5: Reality Check

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/64305886

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the "Metalhead Gordon AU"

PS: This is the E-Bass mentioned in this chapter. !t’s a real beauty, honestly!

- - -

It took Gordon a while to return to the others. For one, he always kind of zoned out for a bit when having a bath… and additionally, the reality of what had happened to him in the past few hours (or days? He wasn’t entirely sure and that unnerved him to no end-) had slowly started to sink in as well.

Zoning in and out of what was his reality now screwed heavily with his perception of the passage of time… and if getting his leg stuck while trying to slip into his comfort PJs and almost falling on his face added a few extra minutes… then that was between him and his checkered bathroom mat.

He rubbed the fabric of his dark floral-print pants between his thumb and pointer finger. It was a comfort thing. Always had been. Just something to help him stay in the moment with the help of adding the sense of touch when everything else was a tad clouded.

His still very much wounded arm was pressed lightly against his chest, the smooth fabric of the worn Nine-Inch-Nails shirt adding another layer of comfort to his current self-care choices.

Gordon hoped the Science Team would not question his comfort outfit… too much. It was just what he needed right now, as silly as the combo of rose-patterned pants & band merch might be.

His long hair was a mess as well. Yes, he had managed to get it clean and untangled most of the messy strands… but man, it was apparent that he needed to fix his undercut sometime. Right now though, he’d just have to deal with the state of his messy (and now also very fluffy post-hand-dryer) mane. Being able to run his fingers through it again and fluffing it up a bit further in the process... was a very nice thing though.

Gordon didn’t really look at anyone when he exited the bathroom and made his way to the couch- only to settle down on the floor, his back leaning against the front of the couch. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you- Do you feel a bit better now, G-Gordon?”, he heard Tommy ask from a few feet away. Gordon managed a soft smile and a nod in affirmation.

“I… yeah, I do. I am exhausted to all hell and back but… yeah. I think I’m actually here... if that makes sense. Don't feel as removed anymore. So… uh… thanks. Everyone.”

He lifted his head carefully, giving himself the time to catch a glimpse of each Science Team member in the room. G-Man must still be around as well, as the man’s ominous briefcase was still leaning against a nearby wall.

The silence that followed was not one of comfort, Gordon could tell. There was an aura of unease and worry in the air. Even from Benrey, who had been seemingly calm previously.

“Guys, I… I still have a lot of questions, not gonna lie. But… first I do want to thank whoever sweetvoice’d my stump. I… I don’t know how to react to my arm actually being gone and frankly….. I am actually freaking out slowly but surely… but still… thanks. Hurts less and all that.”

Gordon jumped a bit as a high pitched noise escaped Benrey, followed by a hiccup and the guard trying to sink further into the bean chair he was sitting in.

“Dude, you don’t have to swallow your Sweet Voice around here. I am way past freaking out about it, believe me.”, Gordon assured him, followed by a short laugh- “It’s actually nice. And helpful. I can fully admit that now, honestly.”

Benrey let out an orb of pink Sweet Voice at that.

“Glad it- that it helps, man. Wasn’t sure if it would... now that we’re all here in... uh, in person.”

Gordon lifted his injured arm carefully, looking the wound over.

“I still have no idea how it works… but yeah, it does help a lot. Again, thanks.”

“Welcome.”

…

Another moment of awkward silence was beginning to start when Bubby suddenly stood up-

“Can we stop with the sulking? Seriously?! We’re OUT! FINALLY! We should be going outside and having the time of our lives-”

“Uh-”, Gordon suddenly looked very alarmed-

“-steal a car! Go on a real goddamn road trip-”

“Bubby-”

“What?!”, the tall man almost hissed out, immediately regretting raising his voice as Gordon curled up a bit into himself at the noise- “M-My apologies. But you get my point, don’t you?!”

Gordon nodded at that, despite shaking a bit.

“I absolutely do! Hearing that you guys were legit locked up for god-knows how long… I would want nothing more than wanting to go outside and explore this world if I’d be in your shoes! It’s just... how aware are you guys of what has been going on on the surface for the past 10 years? Do you… do you guys even know what year it actually is?”

Tommy perked up at that-

“It’s 2020! Not all of us had a good grasp on time, but my dad and I do!”

“Me as well, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer added with a smile- “As much as we as a group had our jokes about Wikipedia, it was basically our only window to the world outside for a very long time. So thanks to it we do know about a lot of things… in theory.”

Gordon let out a short sigh of relief.

“O-Okay, that’s actually good to know- I mean, it sucks that that was all you guys had! But… at least we don’t have to start on nothing.”

“We’ll be perfectly fine dealing with the outside world, thank you very much!”, Bubby threw in, arms crossed.

Dr Coomer reached over and put a hand on Bubby's shoulder-

“Bubby, dear, I can still see us getting overwhelmed with it though. It might not be all new for me, but it is for you! And for Benrey as well. Do trust me that we all need to take this slow.”

Gordon slowly sat up, actually deciding to move up onto the couch, pulling one of his legs under him while stretching the other out.

“Guys… if you want, you all can stay here as long as you want.”, he said, earning himself a collection of surprised looks from everyone- “I know my place is small but… you saved my ass. I want to at least try to even that out by letting you stay for as long as you need.”

He ran his intact hand through his hair again, a few strands falling over his right eye.

“And I know G-Man said not to worry about what Black Mesa might do with you all on the loose now… but honestly, I will sleep better knowing you all are closeby and not in imminent danger. Call me selfish, but I’ve grown to like you guys. And I do care for your chaotic asses.”

Gordon went on, grateful for the patient silence the team graced him with at the moment-

“I need to be upfront about this and not bottle this shit up, so let me be absolutely clear: The shit that happened in the simulation? I do not hold that against any of you. Knowing the context of that whole thing… yeah, it was horrid, not gonna lie- but we all ran on fumes… b-but it was also kinda… cool?”, he added with a nervous chuckle.

“Like, how you all tweaked the code in small ways? It added up to such a chaotic mess that was hella stressful… but really fun to experience too? Like- Benrey!”

“Huh whu-?!”, the guard in question sat up in the beanbag, eyes wide.

“Your no-clipping for bits? Your entire goddamn boss fight?! It was terrifying and So. Fucking. COOL!”, Gordon explained, wildly motioning around with his intact hand and then looking at the others in the room one after the other- “Look, I didn’t really know what you guys’ deal was, along with this being a professional job, so I didn’t really get to talk about all the stuff I get excited about but MAN!!”

The entire gang turned at the sudden sound of a low chuckle coming from the doorframe to the kitchen. G-Man was leaning against it, a soft smile on his lips.

“I… am glad that it wasn’t as traumatizing for you as it could have been, Mister Freeman. I take it, you are quite comfortable with the themes you saw in the simulation, yes?”

He motioned at the walls of Gordon’s living room, causing the man in question to blush and curl up a bit into himself. The Science Team exchanged a few confused glances before taking the opportunity to actually take in Gordon’s apartment properly.

“Look guys, I-”, Gordon started in a slightly defensive tone, before suddenly getting stopped by Benrey’s hand on his chest. Gordon snapped his head up, staring at the guard- whose whole attention was focused entirely on taking in the apartment's aesthetic.

The furniture around them was a wild collection of thrifted items. Wear and tear showed on the dark wooden table and on the clunky shelves on the walls.

Several big moving boxes sat in the corners, stacked on top of each other. It looked as if they hadn’t been moved in months, as if Gordon had not bothered opening them after moving into the place whenever ago.

The couch, beanbag chair and the two additional armchairs had several patches messily stitched onto them. A dresser to the side had been painted with various spray paints… and had a ton of smaller tags written on it with dripping pens at some point.

All his was the base… but what left the team staring with wide eyes were the small decorations of the place. The walls were absolutely plastered with band posters. And not the kind they would have expected from Gordon-

Countless of them had hard-to-read fonts on them, flames, lightning… and the number of bones and skeletons were honestly a bit overwhelming. Especially Benrey, who was now letting out a constant stream of excited-sounding Sweet Voice.

The skeleton theme actually continued with the other decorations around the room as well. Several different skull-themed items sat on the shelves, really putting the room together. And not cheap-looking stuff either! Some of them had a metal finish, others were carved out of wood and a rather big amethyst skull divided Gordon’s decently-sized DVD and Video Game collection.

There was what could only be described as faux-taxidermy all over the place as well. Small bottles labelled with things like “void eyes” and “dragon blood” instantly drew Darnold’s attention.

Dr Coomer ended up walking up to the wall-mounted dragon head with a colour-changing skull in its mouth and just gave it an approving nod.

Bubby, however, was still scanning the band posters until- “GORDON?!”

“Y-Yeah? Wha-”

“YOU PLAY ELECTRIC BASS??? AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?”

Gordon grinned and got up, walking over to where Bubby was standing.

“Oh yeah! That’s my old Fender! Haven’t touched that babe in a good while… probably needs a bit of re-tuning, now that I think about it...”

Bubby shot him a look-

“I repeat: you play e-bass???”

Gordon let out a warm laugh.

“Yeah! Sometimes guitar too, electric and acoustic. Just haven’t really had a reason to in a while.”

A pained expression suddenly appeared on Gordon’s face. “Not like I will again anytime soon, you know?”, he added, lifting his stump.

Bubby waved him off.

“Oh please. Harold told you he has a plan to get that “fixed”. Trust him on that. He doesn’t break his promises. And his work is extremely high-quality and responsive. You will be able to play again with no issue.”

Before Gordon could reply to that, he suddenly felt a hand on his healthy arm, only to find Dr Coomer right beside him.

“Indeed, Gordon! You will have a proper prosthetic arm in no time! Well… I hate to admit that the entire process will probably take at least a full week.”

“Oh! T-That’s still extremely fast! I… I don’t even know how to thank you for that, Dr Coomer. Do you need any specific tools? I think my computer building tools should be around here somewhere-”, Gordon rambled on, only to be stopped by Coomer’s laugh.

“Oh Gordon, don’t worry! I’ll be able to find everything I need with ease! Most of it I already have! I plan on stripping your VR Suit for parts, you see!”, the older scientist explained to him- “You go sit down and let yourself relax and heal. Which is something that needs to happen before I can even think about fitting the prosthetic properly to your arm anyway! I am sure Benrey’s Heal Beam will be of much-needed assistance with that in the following days!”

A loud “HELL YEEEEAH” was heard from the other side of the room.

Gordon chuckled.

“Alright then- uh…. Do you guys want some snacks and get comfy? I think I still have-”

“Mister Freeman… I took it upon me... to get that covered. I hope you don’t mind too much.”

G-Man walked into the living room with a big baking dish and wearing Gordon’s flame-print oven mitts.

“G, my good man, you will never hear me complaining about such perfectly baked Mac’n’Cheese- oh shit, is that sliced ham in there too?”, Gordon stared at the perfectly brown cheese layer on top- “… yeah, you are allowed and encouraged to cook whatever and whenever you feel like it while you’re in my four walls, holy shit.”

“Ah… thank you for the high praise Mister Freeman, but-”

Gordon shot G-Man an unimpressed look, which startled the taller man a bit-

“Alright, Rule Numero Uno of Hotel Gordon: You will be complimented here and you will take it. That goes for everyone here. Yeah, sometimes we will get salty over things, as we have before… but guys, here comes a fun IRL fact about me: I am aggressively supportive.”

“G-Gordon, I am not sure that is needed-”, Tommy stammered out, only for him to slightly freeze as Gordon turned towards him with an intense stare-

“Oh? Wanna test me? Think I won’t say that I still deeply appreciate how you selflessly dragged my sorry ass along when I was too weak to walk on my own? That you had my back in ways that I will be in debt for until the end of my life? You sure??? Absolutely sure?”, Gordon said, grinning and pointing a finger at Tommy… who was now hiding his face behind his hands, letting out a soft “buuuuuuh” sound, followed by a flustered laugh.

Gordon looked at all of the Science Team with an affectionate glint in his eyes. It felt so good to actually be himself around this chaotic bundle of people he learned to care for so deeply.

#hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #gordon feetman #metalhead gordon au #metalhead gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai gman #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai bubby #the premise of this AU finally shows itself #fanfics #fanfic

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calumcest · 5 years ago

Text

i want to teach you a lesson (in the worst kind of way)

me writing 5.6k in 4 hours and pretending my essays/presentation/exams/dissertation don’t exist? it’s more likely than you think

thank u jex for listening to me scream abt this for the past 4 hours and for always being the sweetest and most encouraging person in the world you are truly such a positive influence in my life

also this is based off a prompt i got i think in 2014 never say i don’t provide! i would link the post but honestly it’s just got my 16 year old self’s embarrassing screams on it so frankly i would rather not so instead i will provide you with a screenshot of the ask under the cut

[ao3]

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window.

“The new PE teacher,” Michael says.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

“He’s also twice your age,” Michael says. “Go on, off to your practice rooms.” The girls groan, but one by one pull themselves away from the window and start to wander off. Michael stays by the window, one eye on the girls to make sure they actually go where they’re supposed to and one eye on the new PE teacher, who’s dividing the class up into groups and handing out footballs. He is kind of hot, Michael supposes, if you’re into muscular guys who are clearly good at sports. Which Michael most definitely is.

Michael Clifford loves his job.

Sure, the staff room politics can get a bit exhausting (although Michael would be lying if he didn’t admit to loving all the drama he wasn’t personally involved in), and the kids can drive him up the fucking wall, but at the end of the day, there’s nothing he’d rather be doing than teaching.

Except today. Today, when a good portion of 10C has somehow exploded into an argument over whether or not Julia snatched a guitar when Sam was about to take it, he thinks he’d rather be a human guinea pig for infectious diseases, or something. It probably pays better, anyway.

“Sam,” he says sternly, and he turns to look at Michael, anger written all over his face. “There are plenty of guitars in the cupboard. Let Julia have that one.”

“But sir, that’s the only one which-”

“I don’t care,” Michael says, holding up a hand, because he’s perfectly aware that it’s the only guitar which stays in tune longer than thirty seconds. He’s been begging for a budget increase since the day he joined the school. “It’s one lesson, it’s not an exam, you can deal with it for forty-five minutes.”

“But Mr Clifford-” Lucy pipes up, ready to defend Sam.

“No, Lucy,” he says firmly. “I want all of you in the practice rooms, now.” Sam glares at him furiously and stomps off without an instrument in his hands, Lucy and Pip running behind him to one of the practice rooms outside the main classroom. Michael decides he’s got enough on his plate without inserting himself into hormonally-charged teenage drama, so he lets them go, rounding on Noel and Olivia, who are still arguing with Julia, Brandon hovering awkwardly nearby.

“I don’t want to hear anything else about this,” Michael cuts in, and Noel and Olivia round on Michael instead.

“Sir, she stole it from-”

“He was about to pick it u-”

“I don’t want to spend my lunchtime in detention, and unless you two do I suggest you get your instruments and go to your practice rooms,” Michael says curtly, trying to refrain from pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He’s getting a stress-induced headache already, and it’s the first lesson of the day.

“Fine,” Olivia spits, full of the kind of melodrama only a fifteen-year-old can summon, and Michael tries not to roll his eyes as they stalk off to one of the practice rooms at the back of the classroom without so much as another glance in his direction. He’s pretty sure he hears one of them mutter fuck you under their breath as they walk away, and he feels momentarily bad before he remembers they’ll have forgotten about it by their next lesson.

“Don’t do it again,” is all he says tiredly to Julia, who nods meekly, and scampers off to join her group in one of the other practice rooms at the back of the classroom. That being sorted, Michael turns back to the rest of the class, to find about eight of the girls gathered at the window, chattering excitedly.

“That doesn’t look like composing a short piece on three instruments to me,” he says, wandering over, and a bunch of the girls look back at him with a look of excitement on their faces.

“Who’s that, sir?” Lily asks, jabbing at the window and leaving a mark. Michael peers over their heads to see a distant figure standing on the field with a class that looks like it might be 7A. All he can make out is that it’s a guy, with what looks like a mess of dark brown hair and a couple of tattoos on his (very muscular, Michael notes with approval) arms that he’s waving around, clearly explaining something.

Michael vaguely remembers Paula, the headmistress, saying something about a new PE teacher starting this week, but he’d been too busy whisper-explaining to Luke why Magic: The Gathering was a great game and he should definitely play it with Michael to remember what she’d said the guy was called.

“The new PE teacher,” he says, hoping they won’t ask what he’s called.

“He’s cute,” Sarah says, and a couple of the girls nod vigorously.

Huh, he thinks, pushing himself away from the window and heading to the first practice room to make sure Noel, Olivia and Brandon have calmed down a bit. Sarah’s kind of right.

-------

Michael has a free period fourth period, and even if he usually wouldn’t be seen dead on the field, it’s a beautiful day, and it is on the route to the staff room. Well, it’s on a route to the staff room, at least, and if that route happens to be five minutes longer than simply walking through the building and over the quad, then Michael doesn’t need to know about it. He could do with the exercise, he tells himself. It’s nothing to do with the new PE teacher.

When Michael gets down to the field, the PE teacher’s gathering up the footballs from the previous lesson and stuffing them in the big netted bag that’s been threatening to break for about five years. He turns around after picking up the last one and spots Michael (who is definitely not staring) cutting across the top part of the field. He raises a hand, and Michael’s not really sure if he’s waving or telling him to get the fuck off the field, but then he’s gathering the bag in one hand and jogging over, and Michael’s absolutely not watching the lines of his muscles as he makes his way over.

“Hi!” the guy says, grinning widely, and fucking hell, he’s even hotter up close. He’s got dark brown eyes, crinkled at the corners with the brilliant smile currently gracing his full lips, and his dark hair is curled, falling into his face slightly. “I’m Calum. Calum Hood. I’m new.”

“I’m Michael Clifford,” Michael says. “I’m not.” He curses inwardly as soon as the words have left his lips - he should be legally restricted from talking to hot guys, honestly - but Calum laughs, laughs, and it’s not fake, if the twinkle in his eyes is anything to go by.

“I gathered,” he says. “So, what do you teach?”

“Music,” Michael says. “You’re PE?” Calum nods.

“Music’s my second, though,” he says.

“Oh?” Michael wants to die. Of course hot PE guy can teach Music, of all things. He was literally crafted by God to upset Michael.

“Yeah,” Calum says, with a smile. “I mean, I’m sure I’m nowhere near as good as you, but I play guitar, and a little piano. Bass is my real love, though.”

“Bass?” Michael says, trying his best not to imagine Calum’s long fingers flying across a fretboard.

“Yeah,” Calum says. “I played in a band, for a bit, but, y’know.” He gestures at himself. “Clearly didn’t work out.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool, though,” Michael says, genuinely impressed. “And hey, bassist to secondary school PE teacher is an upgrade.” Calum laughs.

“Fuck you, man,” he says, but he’s grinning, and Michael feels a warmth spreading from his toes to his cheeks. “Hey, are you heading to the staff room?” Michael nods. “Mind if I tag along? I’m still finding my way around.”

“Sure,” Michael says, shrugging and hoping it conceals the fact that he kind of wants to turn back to the safety of his music room and bang his head on the wall until he forgets someone as perfect as Calum Hood exists on the same planet as him.

“Sweet,” Calum says, beaming at him as he holds up the bag of footballs. “Let me just lock these in the shed and I’ll be right with you.”

Yeah, sweet, Michael thinks, as Calum turns on his heel and jogs away from Michael over to the tiny shed in the corner of the field which houses all the outdoor equipment. Not like Michael’s already head over heels in love, or anything.

Sweet.

-------

Calum’s officially introduced in the staff room at lunchtime on his first day, but Michael has lunch duty on a Monday so he misses it. Luke and Ashton tell him Calum’s a big hit in the staff room, “really charming, and have you seen his arms?”, which just puts Michael in a bad mood, because he now has competition.

It’s three days before Michael bumps into Calum again, in his free second period, which he’s spending catching up on all the marking that was due, like, two weeks ago and is still unfinished.

“Hey, Michael!” Calum says cheerfully, sitting down opposite Michael at the desk that he’s entirely covered with a careful class-organised system of marking. “Oh, shit, are you busy?”

“No,” Michael says immediately, because what’s his job compared to conversation with the hottest guy in Australia? “What’s up?” Calum shrugs.

“Just wanted a chat,” he says. “Haven’t seen you in a few days. You been hiding from me?” His eyes are twinkling as he says it, and it makes Michael’s stomach flip, because it’s pretty friendly for a guy he’s met once. If Michael were anyone else, he would say Calum might almost be flirting. Maybe Calum’s just like that, though. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.

“Been catching up on marking,” Michael says, indicating all the papers on the desk. “I’m literally going to stop setting homework, I swear to God.”

“Can’t say I relate,” Calum says, with a grin. “Perks of being a PE teacher.”

“Yeah, but you have to deal with, like, concussions, and shit,” Michael says, capping his pen.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that,” Calum says breezily, and Michael snorts.

“Typical PE teacher,” he says. “I could have had my leg cut off and my PE teacher would have made me keep running.” Calum smirks.

“Well, you have another leg, don’t you?” he says, and laughs when Michael scowls. “I’m kidding. I’d let you do push ups instead.” Michael rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning.

“How generous,” he says. Calum grins back at him, and Michael’s heart does a fucking backwards somersault, or something ridiculous.

“That’s what you get for saying PE teacher is an upgrade from bassist,” he says.

“Hey, that’s just the natural order of things,” Michael says. “It’s not my fault bass is at the bottom of the musical food chain.”

“What’s music without the rhythm section?” Calum says, stretching, and Michael tries his best not to stare at the sliver of skin that’s exposed under his shirt.

“Acoustic?” Michael offers, and Calum huffs out a laugh, bringing his arms (and shirt, Michael thinks wistfully) back down.

“Fuck,” he says agreeably. “Guess my band could have carried on without me.”

“What kind of music did you play?” Michael asks. Calum shrugs.

“A bit of everything,” he says. “We started on All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, that kind of a thing, got more Radiohead and Tame Impala vibes as we went on.” Jesus Christ. Michael has literally died and gone to heaven, because there is absolutely no way a man this perfect exists anywhere other than in Michael’s imagination.

“Mate, I fucking love All Time Low,” Michael says, and a smile unfurls on Calum’s lips.

“Have you heard their new album?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. “Fuck, Monsters? What a fucking tune.”

“Right?” Calum says enthusiastically. “And Basement Noise?”

“Fucking sick,” Michael agrees.

“You’ve got good taste,” Calum says approvingly. Michael opens his mouth to say something - you’re just saying that to get in my pants is on the tip of his tongue - but he’s interrupted (or possibly saved from eternal embarrassment) by Ashton sitting down heavily next to him.

“Hey, Michael,” he says, throwing a dimpled smile in his direction. “Hey, Calum.”

“Hey, Ashton,” Calum says. “How’s the Year 10 clay project coming along?”

“Oh, you know,” Ashton says, leaning back in his seat and pushing his curls out of his face. “Two busts have been decapitated so far, so we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

“Nice,” Michael says approvingly.

“I know you’re talking about the decapitations, Mike, you don’t fool me,” Ashton says knowingly. Michael scowls.

“Was it Sam?” he asks, needing to know who to high-five in his next lesson.

“No, Noel,” Ashton says.

“10C? Short kid, really fucking fast?” Calum asks. Michael shrugs. How is Michael supposed to know how fast he is? It’s not like Noel’s Naruto running through the music room.

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because apparently Noel’s Naruto running through the art room.

“He’s really fucking good with a ball,” Calum says, and Michael bites back an awful innuendo with a lot of difficulty. Not in front of Ashton, he tells himself.

“He’s lacking a passion,” Ashton says. “He’s good at art, but he messes around too much.”

“Same with Music,” Michael says. “He’s got a temper on him, too.”

“Well, maybe I can get him to channel it into football,” Calum says seriously. “Kids need an outlet, and something they feel like they’re good at. He needs something to be proud of.”

Fuck, Michael thinks, as Ashton enthusiastically responds in kind, staring at Calum as he nods along to whatever Ashton’s saying with a thoughtful frown. He’s definitely in love.

-------

Calum and Michael fall into a bit of a routine.

They don’t share a lot of free periods together, only the fourth on Monday and second on Thursday, but Michael will wait at the corner of the field for Calum to finish clearing up after his last lesson and they’ll walk to the staff room together, sitting and chatting shit for an hour about nothing in particular.

Michael learns that Calum’s got a sister, Mali, who’s in the music industry and whom he’s incredibly proud of, and that he’s half-Kiwi, half-Scottish, and grew up in western Sydney, not too far from Michael. He learns that Calum loves dogs more than he loves either bass or football, loves his dog (Duke) more than he loves anything else on the planet, likes playing Fifa and eating ice cream, and that his biggest fear is not having an impact on the world. He learns that Calum genuinely loves teaching, that Noel’s finding his feet with football and he’s really enjoying it, and that Calum almost went professional with football.

(“Is there anything you aren’t fucking talented at?” Michael says grumpily, when Calum tells him that. Calum laughs.

“Asking cute boys out,” he says, throwing Michael a grin, and Michael’s stomach flips.)

And so he also learns that Calum’s gay, and that he’s been single his whole life.

(“Are you serious? Michael says incredulously. Calum shrugs.

“I’m not a blushing virgin, Michael,” he says, seeing the look on Michael’s face, and Michael scowls.

“I didn’t say you were,” Michael says sullenly, but he’s secretly more than a little jealous of these nameless, faceless boys that have had the honour of fucking Calum Hood.)

Of course, Michael’s not the only one in the school to notice Calum.

A majority of the girls, and a good number of the boys, sing Calum’s praises to Michael every opportunity they get. He hears them talking in the corridors when Calum breezes past, smiling at them but eyes lighting up when he brushes past Michael (which Michael tries desperately not to think about when he’s staring out of the window daydreaming in the middle of a lesson). The staff are no better, either - Brenda and Caroline have been gossiping about Calum’s muscles so loudly that Michael only half-jokingly threatened to file a sexual harassment suit against them on his behalf.

One thing that having an incredibly hot PE teacher has done wonders for, though, is school morale.

It’s the only reason Michael’s standing at the corner of a wet field on a freezing May afternoon, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf and somehow still shivering, huddled between Luke and Ashton, whom he’d bribed-slash-threatened to join him because he didn’t want to be too obvious about it.

(“Mike, I don’t think you could be less obvious about being in love with Calum if you tried,” Luke had said, rolling his eyes, but then Michael had pulled out his trump card - he’d give Luke his coveted spot in the corner of the staff room - and Luke had agreed to go.)

“I fucking hate you,” Luke mumbles into the scarf currently covering a good half of his face. “I’m so fucking cold. This is not worth it to get you laid.”

“Fuck you,” Michael says automatically, eyes on Calum. He’s shouting encouragement and tactics at the Year 12 football team - not that Michael can hear it above the cheers and boos from the rest of the school and their opposition - but he looks so fucking good, brow creased as he focuses on the game.

“Are there usually this many people at football games?” Ashton asks, looking around in wonder. “There aren’t, are there?”

“How d’you expect us to know?” Luke asks, exasperated. “We’re not usually at football games either.”

“We’re being good friends,” Ashton tells Luke, a little sternly, and Luke huffs, but doesn’t say anything else.

Their team scores, and the crowd erupts into cheers, because it’s now only two minutes until the end of the game and they’re two-one up, so it’s unlikely the result will change. Calum still looks determined, though, muttering something to Ben, the Year 12 captain, who nods and jogs back across the bitch to prepare for the kick-off.

“I hate this,” Luke whines after a minute, because that’s apparently as long as he can keep quiet without reminding everyone how miserable he is. “This is why I’m a Maths teacher.”

“Shut up,” Michael says, and then the final whistle blows and Calum’s face is finally relaxing, tension dissipating from his posture as he cheers with the rest of the crowd.

“Calum looks really good tonight,” Ashton says, sending a glance in Michael’s direction.

“Alright, fuck me, I guess,” Luke grumbles. Ashton rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he says, but he looks around furtively before snaking his arm around Luke’s waist and giving it a quick squeeze.

“Everyone knows you’re fucking,” Michael comments, still staring at Calum. “You don’t have to be sly about it.”

“No they don’t,” Luke says, leaning into Ashton’s touch.

“Yes, they do,” Michael says, and then he forgets what he was going to say next because Calum makes eye contact with him from across the pitch and gives him a huge grin, and Michael’s stomach bottoms out. “Fuck, he’s grinning at me.”

“Well, grin back, idiot,” Ashton says, so Michael does. Calum holds his gaze for a moment, and then turns back to his team, leaving Michael feeling a little unsteady.

“I’m in love,” he declares, for the nintieth time that week.

“We know,” Luke says grumpily.

-------

Michael’s halfway through marking 8A’s elements of music test when there’s a knock at the door. He looks up, expecting to see Luke or Ashton, not Calum. He looks out of place in his football kit in the music room, and Michael’s brain short-circuits as it tries to reconcile a hot man in Michael’s music room.

“Hey,” he says, sticking his head around the door. “Am I disturbing you?”

“No,” Michael says, because Calum could walk in on him taking a shit and wouldn’t be disturbing him. “What’s up?” Calum steps into the room, clicking the door shut behind him, and throws himself down on a seat opposite Michael’s desk.

“So,” he says. “You know All Time Low are here next weekend?” Michael nods. He’s planning on going with Luke and Ashton. “I might have got two tickets to Sunday night.”

“That’s sick,” Michael enthuses. “Who are you going with?” Calum throws Michael an odd look, somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Well, I was hoping you’d want to come?” he says. Michael blinks.

“Me?” he says.

“Yeah,” Calum says, and there’s definitely a hint of amusement in his tone now.

“I, uh.” Michael’s not really sure how to speak without saying yes, please, and please let me suck your dick while I’m at it. He swallows, hoping it’ll make the words disappear from the tip of his tongue. “I’d fucking love to.” Calum grins, looking relieved, and Michael realises that he must have been nervous . Something about that sends a thrill coursing through his veins - he’d made Calum nervous, somehow.

“Sweet,” he says happily. “Text me your address? I’ll pick you up at five.” Michael just nods, not really trusting himself to speak, and Calum pulls himself up out of the chair, throwing him one last smile before he leaves the room.

Fuck, Michael thinks, as the door swings shut behind Calum, pulling his phone out to Google how to fall out of love with a colleague.

(It doesn’t help him at all.)

-------

Next Sunday comes around faster than Michael had expected, given how much he’s been thinking about it.

Luke and Ashton had been a little incensed when he’d told them he was no longer going with them but with Calum.

(“What?” Luke had said crossly. “Michael, you already bought your ticket.”

“Yeah, but it’s a choice between third-wheeling you or one-on-one time with the love of my life,” Michael says dramatically. “What do you expect me to choose?”)

At five to five, Michael’s sat in his living room, leg jiggling nervously as he checks his phone every two milliseconds just in case he’s somehow missed a notification from Calum in the time it’s taken him to blink.

Calum, though, doesn’t even text to say he’s arrived, just rings the doorbell at five on the dot, scaring Michael shitless.

“Hi,” Calum says, smiling, when Michael opens the door. He’s wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt and straight-leg blue jeans, which should look incredibly nineties and not good at all, but somehow makes Michael want to drop to his knees right there and then. Although, he supposes, that’s what Michael wants to do regardless of what Calum is wearing, so it’s probably nothing to do with that. “You look gorgeous.” Michael has to bite his cheek to check whether he’s still alive and not, like, ascended to heaven.

“Thanks,” Michael mumbles when his mouth floods with pain and it becomes clear that yes, he is actually still alive, feeling heat rise to his cheeks from the sheer intimacy of this moment with a colleague-slash-friend-slash-soulmate-but-he-doesn’t-know-it. He’s so used to seeing Calum in the context of school that it feels strange to see him in normal clothes, standing on Michael’s doorstep.

“Are you ready, or, like, d’you want me to stand here all evening?” Calum says after a moment, and Michael steps out of the house with a scowl.

“Fuck you,” he says, trailing behind Calum as they walk to his car.

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Calum says, and Michael chokes on his next breath. Calum, however, doesn’t seem to notice, as he’s getting into the car and starting the engine. Michael takes the opportunity to splutter for a second, re-learning how to breathe for the first time in twenty-five years, and takes a deep breath before getting in the passenger side of the car.

“What d’you reckon’s going to be on the set list?” Calum asks, reversing out of Michael’s driveway and setting off down the street. Michael hums in consideration.

“Aside from the obvious?” he says.

“No, Michael, tell me that Dear Maria’s going to be on the set list,” Calum says sarcastically. Michael scowls.

“I’d punch you if you weren’t driving,” he tells Calum, and Michael sees him grin in the dim light.

“I’ve found my shield,” Calum says, running a stop sign. Michael squawks as they swerve into the road, grabbing onto the handle on the door. Calum rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve seen how you drive.”

“Fuck off,” Michael says, scowling, but he can’t deny it. Speed is more important than safety, is his motto - mainly because he always sets off at least ten minutes late.

“So?” Calum prompts. “Set list?”

“I hope Monsters,” Michael says. “But honestly? I’d love some of the older stuff on there too.”

“Yeah, I miss Stella being on the set list,” Calum says wistfully.

“You saw them when Stella was on the set list?”

“Yeah,” Calum says, a tad smug, and okay, fuck him.

“Fuck,” Michael says, and he can’t even disguise the envy in his voice. Calum just laughs, throwing Michael a glance, and his eyes are glittering in the sunset, making Michael’s heart hurt a little bit. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Hey,” Calum says, aiming for affronted, but he’s still grinning. “Don’t antagonise the driver.”

“I can antagonise you all I want,” Michael says. “You’re not going to kill us on the way to an All Time Low gig.”

“Might kill us on the way back, though,” Calum points out.

“Yeah, well, I can probably die happy, then,” Michael says, with a shrug.

“True,” Calum agrees. “Good music, pretty boy in the passenger seat, what more could you want?”

“Exactly,” Michael says emphatically, and it takes him until Calum’s started talking about the merits of Nothing Personal as compared to Don’t Panic to realise what Calum had just said.

Michael’s in the passenger seat.

-------

The show, as expected, is amazing.

Michael’s seen All Time Low, like, five times now, and they never fail to disappoint. He voices as such to Calum on the way home, running on a high of adrenaline and having seen Calum jumping in the pit, screaming the lyrics to every single song, which had only made Michael’s whole being-in-love-with-the-hot-PE-teacher situation a little more difficult to handle.

“Right?” Calum enthuses, speeding along the almost-empty highway. “I’ve heard it so many times, but Therapy live just hits different.”

“God, I know,” Michael groans, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, letting the memory flash in front of his eyes. “I actually heard the full band version live, once.”

“Yeah?” Calum asks, a tinge of envy in his voice. Michael savours the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, a touch smugly. “It was fucking sick.”

“I can imagine,” Calum says. “I told Alex that they should play it like that tonight, but-”

“Hang on,” Michael says, cutting Calum off, because he cannot be understanding this correctly. “Alex who?” Calum suddenly looks a little guilty.

“Uh,” he says.

“Alex who, Calum?”

“Gaskarth?” Calum offers after a moment, and Michael gapes at him.

“You know Alex Gaskarth?”

“Well, y’know, I used to be in a band, and we opened for All Time Low, and-”

“You opened for All Time Low?” Michael asks. Calum chews on his bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m- look, I’m sorry for not telling you, okay? I got the tickets through Alex, but I thought if I told you you might just want to go for them, like, you wouldn’t get it, and-”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you know All Time Low,” Michael huffs, sinking down in his seat. Calum throws him a worried look, so Michael adds: “I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” which makes Calum smile as he turns into Michael’s road.

“Fuck you,” he says, but the concern is fading from his face as he parks on the road by Michael’s house this time. They both get out of the car, and then Michael hovers awkwardly by the little path that leads to his house.

“You’re a traitor,” he says, when Calum rounds the corner of his car and comes to stand opposite Michael. He’s lit up in the orange light of the streetlights, dark brown hair surrounded by a halo of amber, and Michael doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight in his life.

“I had to make sure you were coming for me,” Calum protests, a smile playing at his lips. Michael blinks at him.

“What do you mean?” he says, nonplussed.

“Well, y’know,” Calum says, shrugging.

“I don’t know,” Michael says. Calum looks at him oddly.

“Wait,” he says. “You...you know this was a date, right?” Michael gapes at him.

“Are you- wait, what?” Calum’s face falls, and he takes a step back, and no, no, no, that’s not what Michael wants. “Wait, no, I-”

“Fuck,” Calum says, laughing uncomfortably as he cards a hand through his hair. “I probably should have made it clearer, huh? I did say I was bad at asking out cute boys.”

“Me?” Michael’s voice is a good three octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m cute?” Calum smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Michael, I’ve been flirting with you since, like, the minute I saw you,” he says.

“You have?”

“Jesus Christ,” Calum mutters, and then seems to pull himself together. “Look, I’m sorry if I, like, overstepped, made things uncomfortable, whatever. I’m happy to keep it professional, and-” he cuts himself off when Michael laughs. “What?” he says, and it comes out snappy.

“Are you serious?” Michael says, and he’s grinning now, so much he thinks he probably looks a little creepy.

“You’re kind of being a dickhead, now, you know that?” Calum says, a little sharply.

“No, Calum, I- fucking hell,” Michael says, and a bubble of manic laughter escapes from him. “I’ve been kind of in love with you since, like, before we met.” Calum looks at him for a moment, expression unreadable

“Before we met?” Calum asks carefully.

“Yeah,” Michael says, nodding. “10C pointed you out, in first period, and I kind of stared at you for half the lesson.” Calum says nothing for a moment, just keeps looking at Michael, and it’s starting to get a little unnerving, when-

“Oh,” Calum says, and a small smile is creeping onto his face. “You- wait, so, like, I didn’t misread it? You do like me?”

“I mean, I did just say I was kind of in love with you, but sure, I like you," Michael says, and Calum grins, lit up by the streetlights and his happiness, and Michael thinks he’s found space in his heart that he didn’t even know he had since meeting Calum.

“So,” Calum says. “This was a date?”

“This was definitely a date,” Michael agrees, feeling his stomach flip pleasantly at the words.

“Would it be cliché to kiss you goodnight?” Calum asks, and Michael grins.

“Definitely,” he says, “but I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Calum grins back, and takes two steps forward to close the space between them, bringing a hand to Michael’s jaw and pressing his lips to Michael’s gently. It’s chaste, sweet, slow, languid, and Calum kisses like Michael’s the only thing that matters in the world. He smells like mint and pine and vanilla, pressed close to Michael’s chest, slipping an arm around Michael’s waist, and Michael groans into the kiss as he thinks about Calum’s long fingers splayed across the small of his back.

“Too much?” Calum asks, breaking away, and Michael shakes his head, pressing his forehead against Calum’s shoulder.

“Not enough,” he says, because he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get enough of Calum Hood. Calum pulls him in for a proper hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, and Michael’s glad Calum’s got strong arms because he feels like his knees are about to give in.

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbles against Calum’s shoulder.

“Is that a proposition?” Calum says, smile evident in his voice.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Maybe.” Michael swallows. Jesus Christ.

“Then it is.” Calum pulls back and looks at Michael, suddenly serious.

“Hey,” he says. “This isn’t- this isn’t just sex for me. I really like you, Michael. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I want something more with you.” Michael grins.

“Have I got to repeat the whole ‘kind of in love with you’ thing again?” he says, and Calum grins back.

“Alright,” he says, and Michael hears his car squeaking to indicate it’s locked. “You’re making the excuses when we turn up to school tomorrow, though.”

-------

A few students give them strange looks when they get out of Michael’s car in the morning.

“Is this seriously the sportiest thing you own?” Calum grumbles for the fiftieth time, picking at the green hoodie and black jogging bottoms that Michael had chucked at him that morning.

“Quit complaining,” Michael says, locking the car behind them and starting across the car park to the school. “Green’s your colour.”

“Oh, that’s why you picked it,” Calum says, jogging a little to catch up with Michael.

“Yeah,” Michael says with a grin, unashamed. Calum shakes his head, but he’s grinning too.

“I’d kiss you right now if I could,” he says, as they turn into the building.

“What’s stopping you?” Michael asks, as they make their way up the stairs to the staff room.

“Uh, code of conduct? The contract I signed when I joined the school?” Michael rolls his eyes as he pushes open the door to the staff room.

“Morning!” he chirps, heading straight for the desk Luke and Ashton are already sat at, Calum in his wake.

“Morning!” a few people in the room chorus over the general buzz of post-weekend chatter.

“Hey,” Luke says loudly, frowning. “Why’s Calum wearing your clothes?”

The room goes still, and Michael just grins.

#malum #lashton #5sos fic #5sos slash #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #bro the way i can just knock out 5.6k of fic in 4 hours but spend 3 hours reading a singular academic article #do i have a brain? debatable

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