#and feeling so very much at home suddenly
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onlygarden · 3 days ago
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[so good, light up the neighborhood] - park sunghoon
genre: smut
description: after moving into a new home, you develop a less-than-subtle admiration for your neighbor - a handsome, charming man who also happens to be forty years old. sunghoon is 40, reader is in their 20s, dilf sunghoon (he's not a father, just a dilf if you know what i mean), unprotected sex, biting, power play kinda, sunghoon is flirty, dom sunghoon, older sunghoon (whatever you say daddy)
a/n: this fic kinda beat my ass, but i'm super excited about it :D been brewing this idea for a little while heheh
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the late afternoon sunlight brightened the expanse of your living room, dramatically bright rays resting upon your eyelashes and obstructing the view of the drama on your television. albeit, you were rewatching it, anyway; and only half watching at that, since your mind obliged you into pondering the gentleman who now lived next door to you. 
your recent move-in concluded only a week ago, the less-than-impressive dimensions of your new home still littered with empty boxes which sat in a neat pile beside your front door – your poor attempt at tidying the muddled mess of your unpacking process. 
you approach the clutter of empty boxes, thoughts of your new neighbor lapping your brain rampantly, their stubborn insistence rousing a sigh from your lips. images of his delicate, genuine smile as he introduced himself, his habit of using ‘sweetheart’ rather than your name, his firm ‘you don’t have to strain yourself, let me…” as you attempted to carry all your boxes into the house alone remained on a continuous loop, beyond any of your better judgment or hollow efforts to distract yourself. 
your knowledge of him doesn’t extend very far, similar to your brief list of interactions with him – the only information you’ve gathered thus far is his name, age, and the fact that he’s so inconceivably handsome your breath hitched in your throat when you first cast your eyes towards him. the shocking difference in age between the two of you didn’t deter your admiration at all – sure, he’s forty years old, and sure, that’s much older than you. in your mind, however, the fact that he was old enough to be your father only strengthened the enchanting spell your body and your wits were under. 
“hey, sweetheart,” his familiar, yet charming voice rings out, gently diverting your attention away from your unseemly contemplations. 
your legs halt, pausing your movements in your short trek to your recycling bin. you eagerly direct your gaze to his direction, and goodness, there he is; just the sight of his gorgeous face causes a smile to glide it’s way across your features, followed by a subtle blush. the sound of his car door closing reaches your ears in the same moment that his classic, sly grin adorns his face, fueling a flurry of warmth in your tummy. you were so overcome by your thoughts, that you hadn’t even noticed his car returning to his driveway… 
“oh! hey, sunghoon,” you utter all too evenly – the pressure of the thump, thump, thump in your chest, and the shameful nature of your thoughts was not betrayed by your demeanor in the faintest degree. 
oh, he’s coming over here, you think as he suddenly begins to approach you. his legs drag him closer to you until he’s standing directly before you, the width of his shoulders and his daunting stature causing you to feel caged in. you invite the feeling, however, shamelessly basking in shelter he can provide with his frame alone.
you fling the thought from your mind as his gruff, warm voice reaches you again, his proximity intensifying the metaphorical embrace your senses receive whenever the sound reaches them. with such a limited distance between the two of you, his voice was much softer, more intimate – you were certain you could feel the resonance his voice created in his chest across your skin.  
“getting rid of all those empty boxes, huh?” he questions, his sly smile still proud on his face, but resting in such an easy manner. the ease of his expression mirrors the ease of his demeanor, not a single fray of tension shedding from him. 
“oh, yea… yea, i am,” you respond, your gaze shifting to the boxes in your hand in a fleeting glance, before returning to his captivating eyes – his eyes were chasms, shimmering dark orbs absorbing every grain of your attention, unpermitted and unforeseen by you. though if you did garner any control of the situation, you wouldn’t try to resist, anyway. 
his own gaze descends, falling upon the boxes you held before being captured by another, lower view. the pleat of your black tennis skirt was snagged underneath the boxes in your grasp, revealing the shorts underneath – the shorts designed to prevent situations like yours from becoming any less fortunate. though in your case, flashing the man in front of you with the sight of your thong would only serve to further gratify him. 
he noted the sight of the not-so-generous fabric, paying particularly close regard to the way the shorts sink into your flesh, your thighs pillowing around the constricting material. you truly didn’t realize, did you? you were so blissfully oblivious to the mishap, but equally as oblivious to the subtle change in his relaxed gaze to a more appreciative one.
a muted huff drifts past his lips, and he allows his eyes another moment to delight in the glimpse of your flesh bared by such a favorable accident. shielding your skin from his own ravenous leering, he tugs the fabric down, freeing your skirt from the captivity of the box and effectively concealing the skin of your upper thighs. in the process, he allows his deft fingers to graze your skin, lingering only for a moment before his hand falls to his side. well, there goes the view, he thinks. 
the vague blush which already plagued your features only brightens as you come into collision with the realization. the way he momentarily allowed his fingers to skim across your skin surely did not offer your rattled, wickedly jumbled mind any support.
a soft gasp spills from your lips, your eyes stretching wide as you struggle to accept the fact that sunghoon – your neighbor, and the man occupying every crevice of your brain – just saw up your skirt, whether the skirt in question was made with shorts or not.
“oh god, sunghoon… i’m sorry, i –” he intrudes on your frantic apologies, shaking his head dismissively as the warmth of his husky voice travels to your ears again. 
“need some help, sweetheart?” he inquires plainly, though the tone of his voice seems to insinuate a path of events that are obscured from the realm of plain.
your heart stutters beneath your chest, a sense of almost pleasant alarm crawling over your body. the breath in your throat catches, much like usual while you’re conversing with your neighbor. 
“help… help with what?” you inquire in return, the sound of your voice a feeble murmur, the breathiness only further shrouding your words. 
his grin returns to his lips, stretched wide enough to allow his pointed teeth to slip, a memorable feature you came to realize during your first conversation with him. 
“with the rest of your boxes,” he starts, a teasing lilt traveling through his voice. “i could help you bring them out.”
your shoulders begin to relax, the tension subsiding, leaving a subtle sense of disappointment to wander – a gesture you hope his gaze didn’t catch. 
“oh, my boxes…” you utter, your head dropping slightly as a faint chuckle leaves your chest. of course he was talking about the boxes, how could you let yourself get so carried away… 
“yea, i could use some help,” you follow, your eager declaration accompanied by a sweet smile. 
as you oblige in a shameless degree of willingness, sunghoon removes the boxes from your grip, striding casually to your recycling bin. 
your gaze remains on his frame for another moment, roaming over the expanse of his shoulders again, admiring the manner in which his black tee clung to him before you manage to avert your eyes – the fear of being caught grips you cruelly. 
as you head towards the door to retrieve another set of boxes, sunghoon pushes the door open a bit wider from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and allowing it to follow the course of your spine down to the small of your back. he ushers you inside with gentle grace, an equally gentle “right behind you, sweetheart…” passing through his lips. you’re endlessly grateful for his position behind you, since it shielded the apparent heat on your face from his eyes. 
gosh, what’s his problem. the dominance behind such a simple gesture almost made you forget that it was your house, and you were the one leading him inside. 
he permits his eyes to travel throughout your home, observing the manner in which you arranged all of your belongings. 
“very cozy in here, darling,” he compliments. “did you do all of this by yourself?” 
darling. that was new. goodness, he hardly even knows you, but he always manages to sneak an endearing title into conversation with you. you desperately cling to the conviction that it’s completely normal, he’s just being friendly, he probably speaks this way with every young girl… but the distant belief that he’s trying to communicate more than just that is beginning to outshine the former. 
you face him with a quiet smile. “oh, yea. i did. i’m not entirely finished, but i’m glad you think it’s cozy. as my neighbor, you know.” 
a soft chuckle escapes him. 
“as your neighbor, yea…” he starts, a charming lilt littering his gruff voice. “well, i hope that as your neighbor, i’ll be invited over more often.” 
a blend of slight shock and enthusiastic excitement mingles together in your expression. the slight increase of your heart rate causes your voice to sound a bit breathier than you intended, but he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, he seems almost delighted by the reactions he keeps pulling from you. 
“of course, you’re always welcome,” you respond naturally, hints of kind enthusiasm lacing into your words. you continue, hoping your eager yearning doesn’t come across him. 
“is that something you would want, sunghoon?”
his eyebrows lift faintly, his expression relaxing from his usual sly demeanor. 
“yea, it is, but…” he starts, taking a step closer to you. 
“i hope i’ll get to see more than just the living room, darling…”  
a gasp wanders from your lips beyond your will, prompting the familiar sly smile to return to sunghoon’s lips. before you can even begin to formulate a response, however, his voice rings out again. 
“i’ll grab the rest of these boxes, and then we can chat, if you don’t mind,” he expresses with a hint of intrigue, his hands steadily emerging from his pockets and his head tilting in gesture to the bundle of boxes beside your front door. 
your mind encourages you to nod, your body complying with the request to an almost instinctual degree. you move to assist him in collecting what remained of your moving clutter, following his figure through your front door.
“yea, i’ll… i’ll grab some too,” you manage out, surprised that your frenzied mind could feed you a coherent sentence. 
once the two of you complete the task – a task which should have been simple, but was filled with tension and embarrassingly hungry anticipation on your end – you encourage him to sit on the couch, to which he complies easily. as your take your place beside him, he slithers closer, close enough for his knee to make contact with yours. 
this contact, this proximity – you’d be completely comfortable with it under any other circumstances. if anyone else, or any other guy, for that matter, were in his place, you wouldn’t be flustered in the slightest. it’s him, though, and any bit of contact that he’s generous enough to grace you with turns every fiber of your body into putty. putty meant to be molded, maneuvered, and played with by him alone. 
“you seeing anyone, darling?” he utters breezily, almost too casually for your poor mushy brain. other parts of yourself were beginning to grow rather mushy, too… 
“no, i’m not seeing anyone,” you start, shaking your head gently, your hair swaying a bit with the gesture. 
“why?” you continue. 
his expression brightens marginally at your answer, though the brightness of his expression is still maintained by his sly, casual smile. 
“you see, doll,” he prods, his voice a low timbre, coating your senses in a fresh wave of heat. his hand comes to rest on your knee, rousing every nerve beneath your bare skin, igniting a pleasant burning sensation with his touch. 
doll? gosh, this man is non-stop.
“the first time i saw you in the neighborhood, i couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are,” he compliments, the words tumbling from his lips in the same charming manner in which they always do. 
he allows his hand to inch up your skin, fingers fluttering across your skin as he offers the flesh of your thigh a light squeeze. 
his eyes falter momentarily to watch your flesh cushion around his fingers, but he regains his firm, locked gaze. “you’re such a beautiful, beautiful, sweet girl… it really shocks me to hear that you’re single, but…” 
the distance between the two of you shrinks as he leans closer, breaking his stubborn gaze to speak against your ear. 
“would you let me be the one to change things?” he urges, his breath warming your ear, while sending shivers to travel down your spine simultaneously. 
what? you could hardly grasp the belief that this was reality, real life, he’s really asking you this question right now. you only spent a little over a week pining for your much older neighbor, yet here he was, in your home, making you aware of his reciprocated admiration without a hint of subtlety. 
“y-yes, sunghoon…” you mutter, somehow discovering a way to form words despite the wildly intense thrumming in your chest. 
his hand sweeps your hair from your shoulder, revealing your neck to him, and his middle finger traces along your jaw, tilting your head up a bit in the process. his fingers crawl to the back of your neck, still resting halfway against your jaw, dragging your face toward his.
“thought so, darling.”
his lips meld with yours, capturing your lips with his own, creating a rhythm which you matched enthusiastically. as though his hunger was beginning to struggle against the seams, his hand flies up skin of your thigh, squishing a greedy handful of your flesh.
his tongue slithers tauntingly along the seam of your lips, hardly waiting until you part your lips to shove his tongue inside of your mouth. he explores your mouth as though he was searching for something, seducing your tongue into an eager dance with his own.
garnering every bit of restraint from every tendril of his body, he parts from you, his nose gliding along your cheek. 
“how far do you wanna take this, doll?” he breathes out, his voice littered with arousal and restlessness. the rasp in his voice gives way to just how narrowly he’s managing to control his impulses. 
“as far as you wanna go, sunghoon…” you murmur feebly, inviting every unfettered bit of him to demolish you. 
a sound resembling a growl rumbles in his throat, and he lays back against the couch, pulling your body on top of his. as you begin to adjust, his large, veined hands glide along your back until he grips a generous handful of your rear. his tongue skates along the sharp line of your jaw, and he begins to treat the flesh of your ass, ardently squeezing and kneading underneath the pleat of your skirt. 
“you know how much i’ve been staring at this ass, darling?” he inquires rhetorically, one of his hands leaving your flesh to land a smack there, though he quickly returns to the kneading that he cannot seem to get enough of.
his hands reluctantly leave your ass, and he begins to lift your top over your head. he pats your bottom, instructing you to stand up, observing with awe as you pull your skirt and panties down without a single word from him. 
he rids himself hurriedly of his own clothes – tossing his shirt aside and abandoning his pants and boxers in tandem, not sparing a glance in their direction as they fall onto the floor. 
just as the final contents of his clothing reach the floor, you allow your unclasped bra to join them, before returning to your seat in sunghoon’s lap. 
sunghoon’s hands reach for your hips before you can fully settle yourself, and he watches in stunned admiration as a string of your arousal gushes from your drenched, lavish pussy, dripping onto his aching cock as though extending an invitation. 
“fuck,” he breathes out, his heavy eyes unable to tear away from the sight of you. his cock twitches powerfully from the subtle stimulation he received from your lavish arousal, and he removes a hand from your hip to stroke his cock, spreading the gift your pussy graced him with over his length.
“you get this wet just from being around me? god, you’re filthy, doll…” he tells you, thoroughly enjoying your shamelessness, and the plentiful flow of arousal you were offering him. 
the temperature in your face rises, but before you can truly react to his words, he begins to lower your body onto his cock, filling your leaking pussy with his daunting girth. a groan escapes him as you engulf him, flooding his cock with such a luscious, warm wetness that he can’t wrap his mind around. 
your feverish moan reaches his ears, and your hands grip onto his own, as though telling him ‘wait, let me get used to this…’ – sunghoon doesn’t allow you any amenities, though.
“goddamn you’re wet…” he announces, grunting at the snugness of your realm of warmth surrounding him. a sensation he had suffered deprivation from for so long, but now he’s finally indulging in it, finally sliding his cock into you. now that he’s captivated you, however, he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to miss out on the feeling of being encompassed by you.
all of your reasonable judgment was easily forsaken, and all you desired was to learn and memorize the feeling of his length inside of you.
“f-fuck, hoon!” you wail, as the rhythm of him fucking you onto his cock begins to overflow from your body, the squeeze of his hands against your hips as he guides you up and down only pleasuring you even further.
“mhm… there it is… let it out, my sweet girl,” he encourages hoarsely, any sound and syllable that falls from your lips a pleasant melody for his wicked ears. 
at the sound of your goading cries, sunghoon’s pace hastens, his hips bucking his cock further into you as he forces your hips down to meet every merciless passing of his length through your warm, glistening spring. he’s unfaltering in his movements, sending your body and his own to such astonishing heights of euphoric delight. 
as unimaginable as it seemed, sunghoon intensifies the sheer enchantment he was bestowing onto you as he leans forward, capturing your nipple with his mouth, suckling as his tongue glides over the nub in a gentle caress. 
your cries, moans, and whines only blend pitifully into unintelligible sobs, convoluted pleas of “oh god, oh fuck!” floating from your quivering lips, pouring an abundance of sinful satisfaction onto sunghoon’s body. good god, you’re just heaven to him.
“gonna cum now, sweet girl?” he inquires in a dark breath, detaching his lips from your nipple only to begin suckling the other one, his clenching hand on your hip allowing his thumb to begin circling your fluttering clit. 
your body can’t even conduct an action as simple as a nod, yet the way your body begins to tremble, and the way your helpless hands latch onto his shoulders in a form of nonverbal begging tells him all he needs to know. he exhales with a chuckle as your tears of devastating pleasure begin to fall onto his chest.
“you crying, doll? it’s just sex, i’ve got you…”
obliterating the sentiment of his sweet yet condescending words, his leg bends, allowing him to brace one of his feet against the couch cushion, and he brutalizes his pace of plunges into your pussy. his cock stimulates places inside of you far beyond the range of anything you could ever hope to even imagine.
you know you can’t hold out any longer as a wave of incomprehensible bliss coats your body, hazing your senses and your vision, your shuddering body absolutely staggered as the pleasure he provided showers you in a fountain of violent hysteria.
his hands tense around your hips, deft fingers constricting around your flesh as he compels your body into meeting flush against his own, luscious grinds and ruts into your flowing pussy suffocating him in a pit of pleasure, completely drowning every crevice of his body. though he’s enamored with this form of drowning, as long as it’s you submerging him. he floods you in return, spilling a stream of his cum inside of you, sharing his surging pleasure with you. 
he meets your eyes, locking his stare to yours as he cums. “mmm… yea, fuck, darling… look at me while i’m fucking you…” he mutters with gruff timbre, his mouth falling open, bordering on delirium. 
allowing the both of you a few moments to regain your breath and search for your composure, his veined hand coasts along your back, his breaths resounding heavily in his chest and lifting your delicate, fatigued body. 
“can’t believe i’ve been missing out on all that, sweetheart… i think i like you needy,” he casually informs you, scattering a few wispy kisses across you shoulder. 
he lifts your body off his cock, a soft grunt passing his lips as he leans up from the couch, cradling your weary frame in his arms, the mess of your combined clothing receiving neglect – save for the devious way he crouches down to slip your thong into the pocket of his discarded pants. 
“so, darling…” he begins, his body striding toward the direction of your staircase. “where’s your shower?”
you don’t even pretend to resist the urge to rest your head against his bare shoulder, you wouldn’t ever dare to resist any urge you felt towards him anymore. 
“last door on the left,” you relent, voice nearly too weak to carry to his ears. 
a soft chuckle vibrates in his chest, tickling your skin as he ascends the stairs toward the destination you directed him in. 
“so what about you, sunghoon?” you query, hushed voice still unable to conceal your curiosity. 
he places you onto the bathroom sink, allowing your legs to dangle, gripping the counter on either side or your thighs. he leans a touch closer, his stark features even more apparent, now. 
“hm? what about me, sweet girl?” he responds fondly, his expression twinkling with tender admiration.
your legs swing faintly, creating a bump, bump, bumping from your bare heels.
“i mean… have you dated anyone recently? or… are you seeing anyone now?” 
the fondness in his expression intensifies, and a tranquil smile wanders across his face. he couldn’t quite say that he wasn’t expecting the question, but his eyebrows lifted nonetheless – in an almost pleased manner.
“no, darling, i… i haven’t dated anyone in a while,” he reveals honestly, another chuckle following soon after in preparation of his next words. 
“...and no, i’m not seeing anyone now. don’t i strike you as a loyal man?” he teases gently, flashing you a charming smile, those familiar sharp canines revealing themselves again.
a giggle erupts from your lips, and you send him a playfully skeptical look. 
“don’t smile at me like that. aren’t you a little too old to be playing that ‘i’m cute’ card?” 
a husky chuckle emerges from his lips at your mischievous response, and his hand travels to your hip to grant a squeeze. 
“cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he observes, shortening the distance between your faces even further.
he pauses for a fleeting moment before continuing, a casual, relaxed smile returning to his features. 
“i’ve gotta say, darling… i really wanna spend a lot more time with you,” he adds, his fingers dancing along the smooth skin of your cheek. his doting gaze does little to conceal the thoughts running unabashedly through his mind. from the moment he saw you, it’s like he was met with a certain clarity he’d never realized before. he can’t quite find the words, but he knows he’s unwavering in his desire to continue drawing you closer to him. now that he’s gotten you this close, he can’t afford to lose or waste a single moment.
“now,” he announces, his voice interrupting the rampant thoughts in both of your minds. he lifts your body from your sitting position, allowing you to steady yourself on your feet, before whirling you around and bending your body over the counter.
“you don’t think we’re done here yet, do you, darling? you think i’ll give my sweet girl a break that easily?”
my sweet girl? the impending frenzy in your mind is thrown into delay, replaced by surging arousal as his hands run down the course of your back, his touch almost like a torch across your skin. 
he allows his eyes to immerse themselves in your prone form, before leaning down to sink his teeth in the flesh of your ass – the sharp edges of his canines nearly breaking your skin. 
as you gasp, and snap your head behind you to gaze at him, he runs his tongue over the mark he created, expressing his appreciation with a grin.
“mine, now.”
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starmocha · 2 days ago
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but grandma i love him! (and him and him and him and him) [Sylus/Reader, Xavier/Reader, Rafayel/Reader, Caleb/Reader, Zayne/Reader ★ 2808 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] 5 times Grandma Josephine meets your boyfriend + 1 time she meets your boyfriends. Or: AU where everything is the exact same, but Grandma Josephine lives, but wishes she didn’t so she doesn’t have to know how much of a hoe her granddaughter is. A/N: I wrote most of this, days before Sylus’ myth dropped as a way to cope with the impending and inevitable pain (and oh, was there so much pain with his myth…). I suddenly remembered this a month later, so I rushed to finish it before Caleb comes home again. This is very, very silly and full-on crackhead energy :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia @lavlynyan 【 request to be added 】
Josephine had lived a long life, far longer than she would have anticipated for herself. When one lived as long as she had, mistakes were made and regrets inevitable. That was just life.
She knew that, of course, having pocketed many pearls of wisdom as she had navigated this long road, but that still did not make her feel any less foolish for her recent mistake.
It had seemed so innocent. So pedestrian, really.
How could she have realized that asking to meet her granddaughter’s boyfriend would be one of her greatest mistakes and biggest regret of her life?
one.
“Grandma, this is…Skye,” you said with a forced smile as you gestured to your partner.
‘Skye’ stifled his chuckle and extended a hand to the elderly woman. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Josephine,” he said politely with a charming smile, “Your granddaughter talks fondly about you.”
Josephine smiled in delight, never imagining her granddaughter would bring home a very attractive man. It was like she was looking at a work of art created by God Himself. She shook the young man’s hand happily. “Come in, come in, dinner is ready. We can chat as we eat.”
As dinner progressed, the conversation remained lively. This Skye certainly had a way with his words, his charisma was so radiantly brilliant. Josephine had also never seen her granddaughter as happy as she looked now, noticing how the two would often share sweet whispered secrets when they both thought the old woman wasn’t watching.
Oh, youth, Josephine observed with wistful envy.
After dinner, Josephine left her granddaughter alone in the kitchen to do the dishes as she went to her bedroom to retrieve a family photo album to reminisce over. Along the way, she unwittingly walked in on Skye having a private conversation on the phone in the hallway. She was about to turn away before he noticed when she paused, hearing a peculiar comment from Skye:
“Hm, so they had thought I would be there to be ambushed, did they?”
Ambushed? Josephine furrowed her brows in concern.
“Never mind, I trust you and Luke had taken care of things, correct?”
Taken care? Josephine went pale.
“Hm, they should know that Onychinus does not take betrayal so kindly.”
Motherfucking Onychinus?!
Josephine immediately raced back to the kitchen, not noticing ‘Skye’s’ amused smirk.
You were just finishing the last of the dishes when Josephine grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you immediately and making you nearly dropped the plate you were holding.
“Dear, you have to break up with that man!”
You stared wide-eyed, feeling completely blindsided. “B-but why? I thought you liked Skye, Grandma!”
Josephine looked at you nervously, swallowing slowly before she spoke in a hushed tone, “Dear, I…I just heard him having a conversation…I…I think he’s part of…that notorious group…Onychinus.”
“Oh,” you said flatly.
Josephine stared, confused. “‘Oh’?” she echoed back, flabbergasted. “Dear, I don’t think you understand. Onychinus is a very dangerous group.”
“Uh, yeah, dangerous,” you agreed, tone flat. “Super dangerous…”
Josephine started to get annoyed, not understanding why you were behaving so flippantly about this bombshell news she had just dropped. “Dear, Onychinus is wanted for many crimes. Its leader—”
“Sylus,” you said.
“Right—wait, you know his name?”
“She should.” Josephine heard ‘Skye’s’ deep, smooth voice as he stepped back into the kitchen. “She is dating him.”
Josephine felt like her brain had just short-circuited as she watched this man walked over and leaned down to kiss her granddaughter on the lips.
“Did you even try to be discreet?” You scolded Sylus with a frown after he pulled away.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I saw her from the side,” he admitted, adding, “And I don’t like being kept a secret so…”
“You—mmph!” Sylus immediately kissed you again before you could scold him.
Josephine watched this exchange uncomfortably, feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience as her brain tried to comprehend that her sweet granddaughter, one of the top hunters in Linkon City, was in a relationship with a notorious wanted crime boss.
“I…I need some tea…” she managed after a pause.
“Oh, I’ll make some for you, Grandma!” You pulled away from Sylus immediately, rushing to the cabinet.
At that moment, Sylus’ phone rang. He took a glance at the screen and apologized. “Sorry, I have to take this call.”
Once he was out of the room, Josephine immediately rushed over to you, pulling you to the side. “Dear, do you realize what you are doing?”
“…making tea?”
“Don’t get wise with me, young lady,” she chided you instantly with a strong glare, “You know what I am talking about.”
“…Sylus?”
“Haven’t you thought about how problematic this relationship could be?”
“He does have a strange obsession with crows…”
Josephine looked bewildered. “What does that mean—never mind, I meant that he’s a felon!”
“A little bit, yeah…”
“Dear, is dating a criminal your way of getting back at me for not getting you that pony when you were eight?”
“N-no! Of course not!” You protested. “Besides, Sylus also has this amazing horse, although if I have to be honest, I prefer riding Sylus—”
Josephine had decided that was the perfect moment to black out.
“…motorcycle?! Grandma?!”
two.
Grandma, I have someone I would like you to meet! :)
Josephine felt relief when she had seen that text message her granddaughter had sent. It seemed Sylus was no longer in the picture, she thought, a little worried about any repercussion that could come from splitting with a dangerous crime boss.
As she glanced at the message again, the little smiley face at the end of the sentence calmed the old woman instantly. There was probably nothing to worry about. You seemed pleasant. Cheerful, even.
This was a good sign.
The following Saturday afternoon, Josephine was positively thrilled to meet her granddaughter’s new boyfriend, Xavier. She was immediately charmed by his princely appearance and soft-spoken and polite way of speaking. He truly looked like he had stepped out of a fairy tale.
After introductions were made, you had excused yourself from the group after receiving an urgent phone call from Tara. The other woman was in such an overly anxious state, ranting something about her cat? It took you nearly ten minutes to finally calm your friend before you were able to hang up and return to the group.
Stepping into the living room, you were surprised to see only your grandmother sitting in her chair. You furrowed your brows, feeling a strange knot forming in your stomach. Nervously, you stepped over to your grandmother.
“Wait, where’s Xavier?”
Josephine smiled. “In the kitchen,” she answered, not noticing your face was paling. “He mentioned he wanted to heat up the dish you both brought over in the oven—”
“In the oven?!”
“Yes, the oven—”
The fire alarm blared as dark thick smokes billowed from the kitchen, but thanks to the bravery and promptness of the men and women of Linkon FD, the fire was put out in less than fifteen minutes.
Josephine remained in her chair, face covered in soot, her voice peculiarly neutral. “Dear…”
“Insurance will cover this, don’t worry, and if not, I will buy you a new—”
“I don’t even like tuna casserole.”
“I told you we should have made chicken potpie.”
“Xavier—that’s…that’s not the issue…”
three.
When her granddaughter mentioned bringing an artist over, Josephine had some doubts. She worried about her granddaughter having to support a struggling artist until he could make a name for himself, but even if she did voice her concern, it would most likely have the opposite effect and just make that man seem even more desirable in her granddaughter’s eyes.
It wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to meddle, but she hoped things would just naturally end on its own terms.
Her worries instantly disappeared when her granddaughter sent her a photo of the young couple at an art exhibition. Josephine’s eyes caught the name of the artist as well as the face of the young man with his arm around her granddaughter’s waist in the photo.
Wait.
Rafayel.
This was The Rafayel.
As old as she was, Josephine kept up with the news. She recognized both the name and the face of the artist. She laughed heartily to herself, tickled that her pretty granddaughter managed to catch the eyes of a well-known artist such as Rafayel.
Her worries eased, knowing her granddaughter had just secured her future being entwined with someone as successful as Rafayel. She immediately started planning a wedding. Maybe even a guest nursery in her home for when the happy couple would visit with hopefully numerous great-grandchildren.
From this moment all the way to the next Sunday for brunch, the old woman had an extra pep in her steps. As she exited a taxi, Josephine found herself at a well-known restaurant, popular with brunch for the younger crowd. It was typically packed and hard to get in, but Josephine supposed someone as influential as Rafayel would have no problem securing a table.
“Grandma, over here!” you rushed over to hug your grandmother. After kissing her cheek, you sighed playfully, “You know Rafayel and I offered to pick you up. You didn’t have to take a taxi.”
“Nonsense, an old woman like me is perfectly capable of getting around by herself,” she chided you gently. She patted your hand reassuringly as you both walked arm linked into the restaurant. “This is so exciting, darling. I have been looking forward to meeting Rafayel all week long.”
“Wonderful!” you exclaimed, beaming, “He is really the sweetest, Grandma. You will love him. He gotten us a table outside. It really is beautiful out there.”
Well, Josephine can check off meeting a famous artist on her bucket list.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Josephine,” Rafayel greeted the older woman with a charming smile. “I have heard so much about you from this cutie over here.”
“Ra-Rafayel,” you protested with a blush and then whispered harshly under your breath to him, “N-not in front of Grandma…”
He smiled, shrugging. “Sorry, cutie, force of habit.”
“You did it again…”
Josephine laughed and reassured her blushing granddaughter. “You two really are the cutest thing ever,” she said, smiling in gratitude as Rafayel helped seat the older woman.
The time passed with a lot of pleasantries and sharing stories over a delicious array of food. Smoked salmon, quiche, waffles, fruit salad, and bellinis filled three happy bellies. Just as Josephine was already planning on speed-dialing a wedding planner, she noticed Rafayel’s face did a complete 180.
“Rafayel? Are you alright, dear—”
“M-m-m-monster!”
“Excuse me?” Josephine glared when Rafayel pointed at her.
“N-no, Grandma, it’s not you,” you quickly protested, standing up and rushing to Rafayel when he stumbled out of his seat shaking in fear. “Rafayel, calm down! It’s just a—”
“Meow.”
“Oh!” Josephine laughed when an orange cat leapt onto the table, purring happily at the plate with some leftover smoked salmon. She laughed and started petting its head as the cat greedily licked the plate and ate the remaining morsels. “Where did you come from, little one?”
The cat purred happily amid Rafayel’s screams.
“Rafayel, ca-calm down!” You trailed after Rafayel as he backed away.
“Get that monster away from me!”
“Rafayel! Come back!”
Josephine sighed.
After filling its belly with some delicious salmon, the cat napped in the old woman’s lap, purring contently as its ear was scratched. At that moment, the waiter walked over and placed the bill in front of Josephine to her surprise.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she griped once she realized her granddaughter and Rafayel were both gone.
four.
“Oh, dear, I am so excited to meet this one,” Josephine said, meaning every single word, “The way you described him makes him sound like quite a catch.”
Tall, handsome, intelligent, and with the added bonus of being good in the kitchen! There was no way this one wouldn’t be a perfect match for her sweet, darling granddaughter, who, after all, deserved only the best in life.
You laughed. “Grandma, what are you talking about? You know him.”
Josephine blinked, confused. “…I do?”
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Where’s my favorite pipsqueak?”
You gasped as you felt an arm wrapped around your waist, easily lifting you up. You blushed. “Caleb!”
Josephine laughed. “Caleb, you didn’t tell me you were coming home to visit.”
Caleb looked confused as he settled you back down to the floor, but his arm remained wrapped around your waist. “I thought Pipsqueak mentioned it to you already?”
Josephine frowned. “I don’t believe so,” she said, adding, “But what bad timing, we’re having a guest tonight and—”
She paused, suddenly noticing how Caleb’s arm still remained wrapped around your waist and the way you leaned in close against him. You were all giggly and blushing like a schoolgirl.
“…and…”
“Um, Grandma,” You started feebly, “Caleb is my boyfriend.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Uh, yes, he is.”
“No, he’s not.”
“Grandma—”
“No, he’s not.”
“Caleb!”
“Gran, I—”
“I am taking a nap!” Josephine declared, determined to wake up from this surreal dream she was having.
“Caleb—”
“Shh,” he quietly shushed you. “Gran is taking a nap…”
You glared at him, sighing in defeat as Josephine sat in her chair, blanket over her lap, and she closed her eyes, cursing whatever deity who had decided she needed to deal with this weird-ass situation at her age.
five.
Josephine smiled serenely as she watched you and Zayne make dinner together in your kitchen.
Finally, a good man.
Zayne was always the sweetest little boy, and it pleased Josephine to see he had grown into a kind and caring man with a successful career and highly-respected reputation among his peers. Zayne had effortlessly ticked off every single box in Josephine’s list of criteria for a grandson-in-law: intelligent, kind, patient, respectful, charming, handsome, successful, loving. There was not a single flaw in this young man.
“My love, come taste this,” Zayne called out as he held up a wooden spoon.
Oh, my. Even Josephine couldn’t help but blushed and felt her heart fluttering at witnessing how sweetly affectionate Zayne was with you.
“What do you think?” he asked.
You pondered, licking your lips lightly. You smiled. “Maybe just a little more soy sauce?”
Zayne nodded. “Okay,” he said, “Could you grab the bottle for me then?”
“Of course, Zaddy—”
You froze.
Zayne froze.
Josephine stared.
“Za…Zaddy?” Josephine questioned from across the kitchen island.
“It’s…nothing,” Zayne said, his ears turning red, “Just a silly nickname.”
Josephine nodded, seemingly accepting his weak explanation. “How long until dinner is ready?”
You swallowed nervously and barely managed to rasp out: “An hour…maybe?”
“I’ll just take a quick nap if you two don’t mind—oh, don’t trouble yourself, dear.”
“Okay, Grandma, you can nap on my bed…” You said feebly, a little perplexed by how…calm she seemed.
Josephine nodded again and walked to your bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out her phone, searching up ‘Zaddy’ online.
She wished she hadn’t.
+ one.
This was a dream.
A motherfucking dream.
And not even a good one.
Josephine stared at all of the tall, handsome men—and Caleb—towering behind her granddaughter.
“…Dear, I thought you were dating Zayne.” She glanced at the young doctor who looked away in embarrassment.
“I am,” you answered nonchalantly, confused by your grandmother’s behavior.
“…Didn’t you break up with these other young men—and Caleb?”
Caleb blinked.
“No,” you said slowly, “I didn’t want to bombard you with all of them at once, so…I staggered their introductions.”
“You’re…dating…five men…at the same time?”
“Grandma, you are acting like I am banging them all at the same time!”
“Dear, I am sorry, it’s just—”
“We’ve only done it once.”
“…Excuse me?”
“It’s actually harder to coordinate an orgy with everyone’s busy schedule,” you explained thoughtfully, not noticing Josephine’s horrified expression. You continued flippantly, “Zayne has so many surgeries lined up for the next three months. Then Rafayel has an upcoming art show he needs to prepare for, and Sylus—”
Josephine walked away in the middle of the conversation, heading to her bedroom, leaving you flabbergasted.
You looked behind you at your five boyfriends and they all shrugged and scratched their heads, just as lost as you were. Worried, you followed after her. “Grandma? Is something the matter—"
You panicked and shrieked.
“Zayne, Caleb! Grandma is smoking and drinking!”
Josephine mentally sighed as she sat in her bed, leaning back against some propped up pillows as she stared at the ceiling with a bottle of brandy resting on her chest.
Surely, dying in an explosion would be better than this fuckery, right?
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gifsbysimplysonia · 2 days ago
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Hola otra vez! For anyone not familiar with my annoying rambly feedback, ahead there be
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This is the end of the first paragraph of the story and it's just so fcking ... like it works SO well for me, it makes me wanna spike a football
it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.
logan had no reason to keep count. until he saw you.
Well, if there's any indication a man is smitten, I'd say it's when he decides to keep counting after 200 years on Earth cuz of YOU *ded*
the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.
It's super interesting to think about Logan in relation to time and age. We just went from him deciding he's got a reason to keep counting the years to him being so tired that he doesn't want to get into petty fights. And as someone who grew up with Logan on the XMen cartoon lol, I know Logan to BE petty. So whilst we can't always think of Logan in terms of age, cuz looking at his appearance can make us forget, to hear that he's so TIRED that he doesn't even wanna squabble up on occasion? Well, that's impactful. The author makes it hit home in this other way and I really like it.
And here's another example of the author getting across to us where Logan is at when we meet him in life:
you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls.
Straight up now we have the word tired, but also old. And not in relation to himself, but what he's got eyes on. It's such a clever thing the author has done here, and I really am appreciative of it.
logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.
Sad face. This is very in line with the Logan I think most of us know (and adore). Gotta take all the blame, gotta punish yourself, gotta try to protect others from you by denying yourself connections. Wanna hug him.
he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.
Also very on brand for Logan. Sees a need, fills the need, but doesn't want credit for it. He's also seeing someone he believes is worthy (and perhaps not in a way he feels he could ever be?) of more so he tries to be the provider.
it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . .
And again, we are seeing how smitten he is because the man who has been painted as weary and bored suddenly has questions and wonderings again. That is, in the context of Logan's long a$$ existence, quite magical. But that magic is immediately followed by
though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless. he is an animal, after all.
and it's like
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relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it. fuck.
"Relying on others was a weakness" is just hella relatable to me, so I key in on that. And then that ire being followed by showing vulnerability by thinking of her as another person he'd lose; Logan's heart has always been huge and you just know he remembers the faces and details of each person he has had to lose and she has that status already. Logan trying to lie to himself with the "not worth it" talk only to have to curse himself cuz he KNOW he's lying is also peak Logan behavior, and once again on a personal level, hiiiiiiiiiiiiiighly relatable lol. I'm always lying to myself about my own feelings.
you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy.
"Lonely and desperate" self descriptions and Logan referring to himself as "stupid." I'm sure we all wanna shake this old man, right? LOL because when he let's himself think about the truth:
he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything. he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.
It's connection, and it's gnawing at him. Loneliness is a helluva thing, and I think a lot of us know this. But this author is shining in the way she is describing it for us, outside of the usual age/years gone by methods. Tired, lonely, and now ravenous. And while we are in the space of a more spiritual hunger, here, it so easily slides right back to physical as well because he's thinking about a woman and wonders
surely one bite couldn't hurt?
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Me literally screaming into my pumpkin pillow cuz I'm like NO IT COULDN'T LOGAN, GO GET HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR cuz I know what's gonna follow is gonna be liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.
The self loathing and denial is top tier Logan. He will inconvenience and punish himself just as long as it's in line with denying himself cuz he just "doesn't deserve it." Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
Logan then proceeds to go drain the snake before he beings his newest self inflicted penance, but she comes in to clean the bathrooms thinking they were empty.
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Gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl lol
your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again. but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.
HOW WAS SHE LOOKING AT YOU, LOGAN?!?! It's funny how if it was almost any other man, I'd snort and be like, sure buddy. But it's Logan so I have ZERO issue believing whatever he saw in her eyes let her know she DOES indeed know him and want ... well, something.
you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.
How interesting to see the contrast of her view of Logan because while he's always looking at her and sworn that he never caught her looking his way, she's letting us know she has definitely looked his way enough to notice he was a man in hiding. And she actually acted respectfully to respect that and not ogle him, which bummed Logan out lol.
the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.
Oof, she's intuitive! So she SEES what he needs and seems to be quite willing to, ahem, deliver for him but WILL HE LET HER is the big question.
logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.
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you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome. no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.
I do so love the fact that she's intuitive, curious and sees beyond the big burly handsome cover. He never speaks but look at his eyes and boy, are there a thousand stories waiting to be told. And it's the SAME WAY in the present with her. Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike, it's about to go off.
oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.
Again, I love that this goes beyond physical with her and that she's genuinely intrigued by him and by what probably most others don't see in Logan.
"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me." logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?" "yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious." he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.
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No because how is he the King of Self Denial but somehow automatically is giving Dom the first time he approaches a woman he means to get to know? Not even embarrassing at being caught at his blatant perusal of her. SIR.
logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up.
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When I tell you this BROKE me. King of Self Inflicted Penance. I stg. And it's quite the conundrum to be going through an emotional gut punch when it's immediately followed up with
he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.
and we know it is OFF TO THE RACES!!!
"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?" you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.
OH SH!T, WE HAVE HAN AND LEIA BANTER! They are my OTP so I'm always gonna call a combative in love couple that, but this dynamic is MY JAM and I love that what we seem to have here is a clearly dominant male with a bratty female. I am in Heaven lol
logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you.
WE DO TOO, LOGAN!
his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.
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Always a trip when I am personally attacked by a fic lmaoooooooooo
he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.
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"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet."
I want to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie at the giving of instructions and reminder that, HEY WE ARE IN PUBLIC but we are absolutely NOT stopping.
"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."
Excellent dirty taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalk
he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."
And he praises? *dies again*
"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it. you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar.
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"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"
I once again must mention top tier dirty talk!
and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has.
Once again, Logan's vulnerability is illustrated here because it's very human and natural to WANT TO BE WANTED so that it's exciting for him makes all the sense.
he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it.
*shakes him* He's still so Logan. Trying to convince himself again he is just not worthy. But I also do this to myself which is no doubt why I key on it, mention it, react to it. That just means the author is striking a chord with me and isn't that what we want? To feel resonance and know we are not alone in our experiences?
because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.
It's a jarring feeling to be really into some hot smut and then have there be an intermission of this caliber. Cuz again, we are seeing into Logan's heart and his internal self who just screams and screams about not being worthy. And it's so painful and wretched for us as an audience cuz we KNOW it's not true and we just wish HE WOULD SEE IT.
you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh?
Even in her blissful state, she is noticing what he likes and trying to provide that for him and I love her for considering him and being thoughtful with him. HE doesn't think he deserves it, but we readers know that he absolutely does so it's sweetness in this midst of lust and shows us that she cares beyond whatever is happening now in this bathroom.
Y'all NEED to go read this cuz the smut is rough but because of the well established connection the author built between these two, it's very intimate despite the circumstances which don't necessarily lend themselves to anything other than a "quickie." Because of what's going on between these two and how well laid out that is for us, we know that the reason this is so rough and intimate is BECAUSE it's not meant for just here and now. But will Logan allow anything more?
standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.
And again, I love her for her thoughtfulness. She's being soft and tender with him. I'm not sure if it's a conscious effort to keep him from screwing things up (by trying to now brush her off) or if it's just naturally who she is and giving into her instinct to want to be gentle with him and keep him close. Either way, I love love love this moment.
". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.
Adore her for infusing humor into the situation and wanting to bring light back into his eyes. Whoever is going to be with Logan needs to have a sense of humor and give him as good as he gives.
the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.
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Is Logan ACTUALLY going to give this thing a chance, and more importantly, HIMSELF a chance?!?!
I hate to quote too much in a story, especially an ending becuase I WANT PEOPLE TO GO READ FOR THEMSELVES but I need @silverskyeline to know that the last 3 paragraphs of this piece are SO FCKING GOOD.
The breakthrough and revelation he has, the tentative willingness to let himself release a burden and not self flagellate? OMGGGGGGGGGGG. Literally all the applause and bravo on this amazing piece. I really really fcking enjoyed it and am so grateful to you for creating and sharing.
It's really a wonderful character analysis or look at who Logan is, the person he think he has to be, with some hot smut that actually isn't a pause in the narrative but continues the throughline of exploring who he is and what he thinks he deserves and how he's giving himself permission to be a man again. I just ... I love this so so much. Thank you again.
'hunger' 18+
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worst!wolverine x f!reader (3.9k words) summary: logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. tags: for the 'longing' prompt for logan promptober, set in the bar from the movie, kind of angsty, filthy, pent up logan, alcohol consumption, doggy style, creampie, biting, light choking, pinning wrists, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex, implied age gap, sweet ending.
his usual haunts offer comfort, safe nests tucked away down isolated roads, usually requiring quite the drive to find - it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.
time spent staring into the grain of the old wood on the bar wondering how the fuck he ended up here. he'd stopped keeping count a long time ago, how long he'd been around, been alive. things get kind of hazy after two hundred years. logan had no reason to keep count.
until he saw you.
the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.
he's sat at the bar when the bartender clocks off, switching with someone new, someone he'd never seen before. you walk in and his eyes immediately scan your face, your build, your outfit. it's a habit of his, one he hoped he'd grow out of - but logan has learned that he'll never stop assessing for new threats. it's just in his dna.
but what he finds isn't a threat.
you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls. he drags his eyes back down to his glass like he's forcing himself to look down the barrel of a gun rather than looking at you, before settling on you once more.
logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.
. . . but what harm can looking do?
a few weeks pass, logan notices you're in every few nights from now on, must have been put on the regular rota. he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.
you've never noticed him, or at least, he's never caught you looking in his direction. but he finds himself craving it, willing your eyes to meet his even for a second. the extent of your interactions have been sliding a glass or a bottle in his direction before continuing with your other duties.
it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . . though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless.
he is an animal, after all.
he wonders if he should switch bars just to distance himself. he couldn't let himself become comfortable with the idea of you. relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it.
fuck.
logan curses himself under his breath for even having this internal debate. you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy. he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything.
he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.
surely one bite couldn't hurt?
no, he finds himself shaking his head as he stands from the bar. he'd take a leak, and leave early. it'd only been a month since he first saw you, he could get over this. switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.
the bathroom door swings open and he walks inside, situating himself at one of the urinals. a few moments later, the door swings open again, logan doesn't bother to look over.
"oh, thought these were empty, sorry."
his head turns quickly. it's you, mop in hand. there's an uncomfortable silence that follows.
speak, fucking speak. "it's fine."
you pause, then nod a little and begin mopping the floor.
his eyes are back on the urinal, swallowing hard. was this really going to be your first conversation? with his eyes glaring into old porcelain, dick in his hand? he tries not to picture you stealing glances at him, but he can't help it. is that what he wants?
maybe.
finishing up, he quickly makes his way over to the sinks, pushing his hands under the cool water and rubbing with soap. his eyes flit up to the mirror. and he catches you.
your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again.
but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.
"all done," you say with a sigh after a few moments, standing straight and gripping the mop but making no effort to leave just yet.
logan eyes you in the mirror, watches how your eyes dance across the room before inevitably landing on him again. he turns to face you, noting the distance between you both in the room.
you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.
the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.
you rest your mop against the wall, "you're in here often." you state, it's not a question.
"guess i'm a regular," he replies curtly.
swallowing hard, you continue, "i noticed. i always have to restock the whisky when you come by."
logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.
"i like a drink." he says with a subtle shrug, just a step away now, eyes never leaving yours.
a small smile tugs at your lips, "i know."
you're not sure what you're really doing. you're supposed to be on shift, designated five minutes to clean the bathrooms. five minutes you'd much rather spend doing someone something else.
you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome.
no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.
oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.
you're not sure when or how it happened, but he's right in front of you now, his body almost touching yours. you look up at him with a feigned innocent look.
"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me."
logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?"
"yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious."
he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.
your hands snake down, finding his belt buckle and brazingly begin to unbuckle it. he watches you, eyes fixated on the way your fingers move. he swears he's about to start drooling. but then you move, hands winding up to the buttons on his shirt. you splay your hands across the fabric, eyes widening when you feel what's underneath.
"are you. . . is that-"
logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up. he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.
he moans, relishing the taste of you, the taste he's thought about for so fucking long. he brings your hands up, pinning them above your head, shifting his grip so one hand easily pins your wrists, leaving his other hand free.
his free hand plants firmly across your upper chest, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your collarbone as he explores your mouth with his tongue. you're lost in the sensation, knees going weak as you allow the older man to have his way with you. he needs this, you know it.
"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?"
you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.
logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you. his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.
the kiss grows in intensity, you wonder how long it's been since he's kissed someone. he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.
his hand on your neck gives a gentle squeeze before running down your torso, palming at your jeans suddenly. you try to whimper in pleasure, but he's silencing you with his lips again.
"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet." logan can feel the material of your jeans begin to damp and he resists the urge to growl, feeling the way the fabric beneath gives way.
you nod, whispering small affirmatives as he touches you through the material. "just give me more," you whine.
and that spurs him on. in a flash he's pushing you into the stall, stealing a few more kisses where he can before he turns you, pushing your back against his chest. his lips find your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the skin he finds there.
you're like putty in his hands, melting back against him as his hand returns to your crotch, rough hands massaging circles against your clothed core. you resist a moan, exhaling shakily instead as you let him use you.
"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."
you nod quickly as you feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin.
"yeah, thought so," he nibbles on your earlobe, breathing deeply through his nose as he tries to steady himself, preserve the moment. but how can he when you feel this good beneath his fingers, taste this good on his tongue? "tell me you want it."
"want you to fuck me," you whimper almost immediately, suddenly feeling so very needy. there's a hot ache growing between your legs, one you're desperate for him to fill.
logan laughs, "you can do better than that, honey, know you can."
"please," your voice cracks and you swallow back moans as you squirm beneath his touch, "please fuck me-" it becomes apparent to you at that moment that you don't even know his name. your cheeks flush at the thought of letting this stranger, this older man fuck you in the bar bathroom, but actually, you kind of like it that way.
he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."
with that, he pushes you forward, forcing your hands onto the tank of the toilet to support yourself as he bends you over. his hands find your waist, his hips connecting with yours and slowly grinding his very apparent, large bulge against you.
you let out a whimper, arching your back a little at the sudden contact.
"feel that?" he mumbles, guiding your hips to grind back against him, "feel what you do to me?"
a gasp, "fuck, you're big." you can already tell, the way his bulge is pressing against you, demanding to be felt. you swear you can almost feel it throb through the material.
"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it.
pulling back slightly, he roughly pulls your jeans down, practically manhandling you, your underwear disappearing with it. he grabs handfuls of your ass before kneading the skin. "look at that, pretty little ass, all for me."
you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar. "f-fuck!" you whine, feeling the sharp sting, knowing there's a bright red imprint in the shape of his large palm on your ass.
there's some jingling, the sound of his belt being moved out of the way, a zipper. you prepare yourself, or at least you try to, but his cock is already slapping against your backside before you have time to steady your hazy mind.
"you gonna take all of me?" he asks, biting his lip as his aching length slaps against your skin, "think you can?"
you nod quickly, looking over your shoulder at him, "mhm!"
"if you say so. . ." he smirks and positions himself, one hand on your hip and one aiming his cock at your tight little hole.
then, all at once he's sinking in. you gasp, he gasps. and fuck, he is big. you feel that sweet stretch, his cock throbbing against your tight walls as it slowly glides inside. you're whining as it slowly fills you, eyes rolling back at the sensation. but he pulls out a little, only to push back in again.
he's working you up just right, mesmerised by the way you take his cock. his eyes are fixed on your tight hole begging him to enter, loving the slick sound as it pushes inside.
"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"
despite the way your cheeks flush bright red, you can't deny it. you've thought about it more than once, fantasised about it in bed, hoping that one day that stranger from the bar would fuck you so good you forget your own name.
you don't need to reply either, because he knows. he knows from the way your wet hole flutters around him, and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has. he begins to pump into you at a leisurely pace, firm hands on your hips.
"holy fuck, so fuckin' tight," logan grumbles, his deep slow strokes hitting you deep as he bottoms out inside of you.
you try to turn your head, to look up at him, but he grasps the back of your hair, pushing your head down. "nu-uh, keep that head down."
he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it. he'll take you, just like this, with your head down and your ass up and his cock buried deep inside you.
because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.
you feel his thrusts grow rougher, your legs slipping apart as you attempt to hold yourself up, hands planted firmly on the tank of the toilet. you're squeaking softly with each pump, feeling him use you to release his pent-up frustrations. and it felt so fucking good.
with his firm grip on your hair tightening by the second and his other large hand digging into your hip, you begin to bounce back against his motions, sending him even deeper. you both moan in sync with the feeling and you pant softly, cheeks flushing further at the soft 'plap plap plap' of his hips connecting with you, the sound reverberating around the small cubicle.
"that feels so fucking good," you sing, closing your eyes. logan gives a particularly hard thrust, speed picking up. you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh? "keep fuckin' me, just like that, so good. . ."
he groans, wrapping your hair around his fist as he relentlessly pounds into you. harder and harder, deeper and deeper, you're sure you'll have bruises littered over your body before the day is through.
"harder!" you cry, feeling your legs tremble. you're not gonna last long like this, and by the way his cock is twitching inside of you, he isn't either. "i'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum!"
another groan slips from his lips, gritting his teeth as he uses you, watching you take his throbbing cock beneath him. "look so pretty like this, bent over, takin' what i fuckin- shit. . . takin' what i give you."
your body grows hotter, sweat forming on your forehead, each impact pushing you forward roughly. you're really not gonna last long.
he begins to hunch over, his chest flush with your back as he huffs against your neck, fucking you like a rabid animal. you're squealing now, the pleasure swirling in your lower stomach, threatening to send you crashing into bliss. at this point, you don't fucking care if someone walks in and finds you like this, sees his feet planted behind yours underneath the stall. in fact, the thought of the risk sends a bolt straight to your gut.
"yes yes yes," you mutter, feeling your orgasm approaching steadily. you swear you can feel him in your guts. you begin to flutter around him, begging for release, knowing it's going to completely destroy you.
logan can't even form words, just grunts slipping from his lips against the side of your neck. and then he feels it, his cock twitches, his mind reeling with the imminent release. he needs this, oh he fucking needs this.
he bites down on your neck, teeth sinking in slightly as he feels himself release deep inside you, his cum spilling out in strong waves. you feel your knees buckle, but a strong hand planted on your tummy helps keep you upright as he fucks his release deeper into you.
the animalistic nature of his thrusts combined with the sensation of his hot cum painting your insides sends you flying over the edge, your orgasm milking him as you clamp around his aching cock. he slams his hand against the stall wall with a loud metallic bang, splaying his fingers across the metal as if to ground himself as his thrusts falter.
his tongue lazily licks the indents of his bite mark against your neck, groans easing their way from the back of his throat. you can hardly catch your breath, legs still shaking from such an intense release. it's hard to think straight with his dick still buried deep inside, feeling it twitch with every aftershock.
you both stay like that for a solid minute, panting, coming down together. he's planting soft kisses along your neck as your breath slowly comes back to you.
he pulls out, stepping back as he stuffs himself into his jeans. you collapse onto the toilet seat, shakily pulling your jeans and underwear back up as you look up at him. it's clear he's looking to leave, a distant look in his eye, maybe a little shame creeping into his features.
standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.
you pull back, buttoning your own jeans as you continue to look up at him. ". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.
and there it is, a small smirk on his lips as he glances away. "maybe."
the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.
"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, tilting your head.
he blinks, suddenly remembering time exists outside this small space seemingly crafted just for the two of you. "yeah," he says, quietly.
"good," you pat his chest before moving past him, leaving the stall. you stand, looking back at him. a beat, "or, you can meet me after my shift ends?"
his eyes widen, taken aback. fuck, had he forgotten how to do this? his eyes flit to the side, before making up his mind. he gives a firm nod.
you smile before leaving him in the bathroom, returning to the bar through the door.
logan stands there for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair. he smooths down his shirt, feeling the suit beneath, a stark reminder always of his past.
but maybe he could begin to take a few steps forward. maybe he deserves more than to suffer forever, forced to keep everyone at arm's length. maybe he could allow himself this small happiness, a date, or whatever this was.
maybe it was time to satisfy his hunger, his loneliness, for good.
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thanosscross · 3 days ago
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There all along - Choi Su-Bong/thanos x reader part 1/?
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Summary: Losing someone who meant alot to you was hard, having to live with it for three years you finally went back to the games to try and get revenge, but a new guard refuses to leave you alone, resulting in you being sent home for the first time in game history.
Warnings: death, you purposely getting people killed, heavy heavy drug use
During the games it was safe to say that you and Thanos got very very close, much to Nam-gyu's disliking. Thanos liked you though, you stubborn, rude, and rough, but whenever you grabbed his hand shaking like a leaf scared, you were so gentle, like you didn't even know how to hurt somebody if you tried. He got the sudden urge to protect you the moment you held onto his jacket for the first time in red light greenlight, it wasn't like you meant to, you went to hide behind him and before you knew it your hands were clenching his jacket.
You didn't mind it though, Thanos was an asshole, but he was always protective over you, only ever spitting off embarrassing raps that he'd come up with on the spot about your looks. As you walked back in from mingle you held onto Su-bong's arm, he just held your hand that held onto him walking towards their little area they claimed, cheering and chanting something about one more game. As Thanos sat down he pulled you down with him, helping you down a step lower to sit in between his legs, using his thighs and hips as a back rest "So, We got one more game, then we're gonna go right?" Nam-Gyu asked, shooting you a harsh glare "I dunno Nam-su, I think we could do two more?" You snapped in a smartass tone purposely getting his name wrong as you looked at your boyfriend smiling "We can play as many as you like, as long as you like, baby" He smirked holding your chin in between his fingers, you melted in his touch, his blue eyes staring into yours like he could see every thought in your brain "It's Nam-gyu, bitch" he snapped, you just rolled your eyes, grunting as Thanos suddenly raised his arms in the air "Stop it!, don't call her that, y/n leave him alone" He stated, shooting you a stern look.
Whenever they all left for the bathroom you laid down, thinking nothing of it, until the piggy bank lowered and started to fill, the loud speaker listing off players that were eliminated. What the fuck happened in there? You started to think before your heart dropped "Player 230 eliminated" Echoed in your brain as the doors opened and everybody started to walk in, your eyes immediately fell on Nam-gyu holding Thanos's pill necklace in his hands that were covered in blood. You jumped up rushing down, Nam-gyu immediately taking notice to the fiery glare in your eyes "What did you do!?" You screamed, swinging your fist, it connecting right where his jaw curved, sending him to the ground "T-The X's just started attacking us!" He shouted being looking up pointing at the guy who Thanos first got into a fight with whenever you first arrived "H-he's the one who did it!" He shouted, not wanting to die at the hands of a grieving psycho, you stood up, freezing as a guard shoved a gun into your back, stopping you from attacking the player "We ask that you all compose yourselves, as the voting process will start tomorrow first thing, please use this time to think over your futures" The guard shouted, you just kept your glare set on player 333, you were going to for sure kill him the first chance you got. As soon as the gaurd left you, you leaned down snatching your boyfriend's necklace from his stupid friend making your way back to the bunks, crawling into his bunk laying down.
Thanos woke up with a gasp, feeling at his throat and jaw, wincing as he felt stitching thread sitting inside of his skin holding it closed "Player 230, you have been eliminated, but we are offering you a chance to still earn money, if you are willing to accept we shall allow you to become part of our staff of guards for the games, if you choose to decline, we will eliminate you from the games" The guard spoke.
Whenever you walked into the address Thanos had left you with, you were greeted by a fluffy dog, a note sitting on the counter of the kitchen
'Su-bong! Congrats on the game show! So glad you're back home, we took care of your baby for you!'
Su-bong, it was a pretty name, you weren't sure why he chose Thanos instead of that, you explored the house further, getting a new sense of who your boyfriend was beyond the games. You would continue on for three years, growing close with Thanos's previous friends and neighbor, as you were lying on the couch one night, you heard soft scratching at your door, slowly walking over and opening it, you spotted a small black and pink envelope, you felt like it was a dream, or like it was some sick joke, as you opened the card you saw the familiar shapes and numbers. You felt sick, but deep down, you had a drive, a drive to revenge Thanos in the only way you knew how to. Hearing the phone trill and the deep voice ask for your name and date of birth, repeating the information back you looked at your baby "Don't worry, your daddy would want me to do this"
Oh were you so wrong, as soon as Su-bong got information back that y/n l/n was becoming a player again, he was fuming, why the hell would you come back? What was your reasoning? God he wanted to kill you for being so stupid.
Waking up in the large room again was startling, you didn't even go to a pick up spot, you literally just fell asleep at home, now you were back? Slowly walking to the center of the room with everybody, you took notice to the different things they had added and taken away, and how quickly they rushed you to the first game. Walking into redlight greenlight you held the cross necklace tightly in your hand, yelping whenever a guard yanked you back behind one of the large green doors that were propped open "What are you doing back, y- Player 243" The guard said, and for a minute, you could swear you knew his voice, but you quickly shook it off. "Just like everybody else, trying to win money" You snapped shoving past the circle guard, not being able to shake him whispering 'still just as rough' like he knew you. After being through the games once before it made the game relatively easy, but slightly boring aswell. You opened the cross locket, new fresh pills sitting neatly inside, you never said you were clean, you had picked up the habit about three days after getting home, emptying out the remainder of his stash within a week. As you set the pill on your tongue locking the necklace back you waited for it to kick in, not ignoring the guard slowly making his way to the other end of the field.
The pill hit you faster than expected, leaving you a smiling mess skipping around the field as people panicked, having the same realization you did the first time you ever played, but you didn't care though, you jumped and skipped towards the end, purposely bumping into people as you went by causing their eliminations. As you leaped across the safety point you cheered, flipping the doll off before a hand grabbed you dragging you off through a doorway hidden within the wallpaper. You looked around, this area was different than the rest, dark blue and purple walls with no doors, just stairs "Are you high right now?" The guard asked, the way his hands grabbed you relaxed you rather than scared you, you couldn't place why though, you tried to break free of his grasp, but he just tightened his hold "l-let go y-you're hurting me" You whispered trying to break free, the walls opened up as the players funneled in to go back to the room, an older man coming over "Excuse me, but I believe she asked you to let her go" He demanded, the guard dropped his hold, you immediately clung to the man holding onto his jacket tightly as you both walked back to the room. You spent dinner time getting to know player 213, who ended up being a younger guy who was fucked over in the same way your late boyfriend was.
When lights out came, you tried to make your way back, but three guards stopped you, rising their guns and escorting you out, your hands shook violently, this was new, maybe they were onto you? You were stopped in a large room, a giant screen showing the field for redlight greenlight "Player 243, you're causing quite the distraction for one of my guards" A man in a black mask and long coat said approaching you "I-I don't even know any guards! He is causing a distraction for me!" You argued, trying to hide your body shaking to the point it could be mistaken as a seizure, you weren't sure if you were going to die or not, you had a puppy had home to care for, you couldn't die. "So we're willing to offer you a deal. go home. Don't come back, and don't try to either" He said, you tilted your head "How does that benefit me in any way?" You asked, attitude lacing your tone with a hint of annoyance "Just take the deal, y/n, it's safer" You heard someone speak from a few feet behind you "Oh my god...you!? What is your fucking deal with me!? Who are you!?" You asked looking at the stupid O mask "You look so stupid just standing there!" You shouted starting to grow angry "Go ahead number 30" You heard the other masked guy say, and you watched as the guard pulled his mask off, the black underhood covering everything that a few strands of hair and bright blue eyes, and for a moment you had to remind yourself, Su-bong was dead.
Watching him pull off the underhood your breath got stuck in your throat, his overgrown purple hair was laying in every different direction, being slightly shorter than him allowed you to see the scar underneath his jaw. "S-Su-b-" You started but he shot you a harsh glare, you felt your hands start to shake, your mind starting to spiral, god damn did you need a high right now, and a damn good one at that. "30" He replied harshly, this was a different Su-bong than you knew, you barely recognized this version. "I thought you died" You whispered, feeling yourself lose your voice "I'll explain later, just take the deal, leave. go. don't come back" He said harshly, taking long strides to stand in front of you staring you down "O-Ok, If you want me to go" You whispered, looking back towards the man in the black mask who just nodded. Su-bong put his mask back on as he walked you out towards a dock inside of a cave somewhere within the building you had played the games in. You stayed silent, occasionally looking at him, studying his face, almost four years of not seeing him, of thinking he had died, and yet he was here. As he walked ahead slightly to scan his mask you took the opportunity to pop another pill into your mouth, ingesting it quickly right as his head turned around to stare at you, somehow even without being able to see his face you could feel his glare on you.
You stepped on the boat watching as Su-bong stood back as another person held a cloth to your face, you didn't fight it off, his words repeating in your head 'Ill explain later' Was he coming back? Waking back up in your actual bed was relieving, but you had a need deepness in your chest, Thanos was still out there..and he left you. You laid in bed for what felt like months, trying desperately to find a way back to the island to find Su-bong while being high out of your mind, until one night. It was maybe three or four am, you were wide awake, music blaring in your headphones while looking at the paperwork you had out in front of you, a rolled joint in one hand, a pill in the other. Popping the pill in your mouth you groaned, none of these papers made sense at all, and you could've sworn you heard the lock to the door try to click three different times in the last minute, thats whenever you did hear it click, you quickly walked over holding the door shut, not wanting whoever was trying to break in, in. "So help me.." You heard a frustrated and exhausted voice mutter before you were knocked off of your feet.
--
part two comin soon, like always lmk what you think lovelies <3
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sturnsbae · 21 hours ago
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SPIN YOU AROUND - JACK HUGHES
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summary: you and jack have been best friends since childhood. you’ve both always had suppressed feelings for one another, but when you suddenly become a country music fan, he finds his chance to actually confess.
warnings: use of y/n & underage drinking, not proofread sorry if there’s typos or mistakes :)
wordcount: 3.4k
for as long as you can remember, you’ve been best friends with the hughes brothers.
your moms were best friends in high school, and they always talked about their kids being friends growing up. your mom only ended up having one child, but it worked out perfectly seeing that she had a girl and ellen had three boys. despite her best friend playing it, your mom never cared much for hockey. but ellen made sure to have her sons teach you how to skate and how to understand the game. this led to your winter breaks always being spent playing pond hockey in a 2v2 game against the boys, which you wouldn’t have changed for the world.
you and jack are the same age, and this always made you two closer. maybe it was because you two somehow always ended up with the same elementary school teachers, or the fact that you two have the exact same humor, or maybe the fact that you guys have always had mutual friends. It doesn’t matter; he was your best friend, and you were his. although, you both took very different routes when you turned 18. he went straight to the nhl while you began college at penn state. you’re nineteen now, and so is jack. it’s finally the summer after your first semester, and you haven’t seen the boys since winter break.
as you and your parents enter the front door of your guys’ shared lake house, you smile at the familiar smell of ellen’s homemade cookies. “god it smells good in here!” you exclaim, making your presence known. “hey! you guys made it!” quinn smiles as he walks over from the dining room table towards you guys. being the gentleman that he is, he embraces your mother in a hug before anyone. luke quickly jumps off of the couch and runs over, picking you up slightly as he embraces you in a warm hug. your laughter fills the room as luke puts you down back on your feet.
“i swear, you get taller every time i see you,” you chuckle, making luke roll his eyes with a smile.
“maybe you’re just shrinking, y/n,” he shrugs before walking over to hug your parents. quinn walks over to you with a smile and gently hugs you, unlike his youngest brother. you say your hellos to jim and ellen as your dad and quinn bring in the suitcases. you furrow your brows and turn to luke, “where’s jack?” you ask.
“i think he’s in the shower, he should be out soon though,” luke shrugs before looking back down at his phone with a smile. of course, he’s probably texting a girl from school. you chuckle to yourself before walking to your room to settle in. as you walk past the shared bathroom between you, jack, and luke, you hear the shower running and muffled country music playing through the door.
you begin unpacking your suitcase, your door left open just slightly enough so that you can see the hallway. as you’re unfolding clothes, the sound of the bathroom door opening catches your attention. you look up and see jack walking out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. clearly, he has no idea that you’re home yet.
you can’t help but stare for a second… when did his back muscles get so toned?
you immediately shake your thoughts and continue unfolding your clothes. about three or so minutes later, there’s a gentle knock on the door. you look up and see jack in the door frame with his usual smirk-like smile.
“thought you could come home and not say hi to me?” he questions, making you roll your eyes and jump off the bed to wrap the boy in a hug. his arms wrap your smaller frame in a tight hug, his body still damp from the shower and the smell of his body wash emitting off of him.
“how’ve you been, dork?” he asks, walking in your room and sprawling out on your bed. you sit down criss cross by his feet, organizing your bikini tops to their matching bottoms.
“i’ve been good! how’s the nhl life?” you tease.
“eh, i’ve been playing alright. i’m kinda offended you haven’t been to a game since my debut, though,” he jokes, raising one eyebrow.
you groan in response, “i know, im sorry. schools been so insane. i have so much to do for my sorority, i have like a million sporting events to go to, and i have so many tests too… i just haven’t found the time. next season ill be at more games, i promise” you smile.
“hey, it’s okay, i’m just messing with you, y/n/n. i know you’re a busy girl, being all studious or whatever,” he chuckles before looking down at his phone. you two then sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as you finish unpacking.
you’ve done a lot of catching up with ellen and jim, all 8 of you sitting in the living room discussing the causal things. your mom and ellen spill their adult-life gossip, as if they don’t talk every day and meet for lunch once a week, while your dads talk about god knows what. you and quinn chirp luke about whoever he’s been texting, while jack is more focused on whatever video game he’s playing on his phone.
“jack, do you think you could go get us some pizza for dinner?” ellen asks, the room going quiet and the attention now falling onto jack.
“ugh, why can’t quinn go!” jack questions. ellen laughs, “you’re the one who insisted on bringing your jeep! you brought your car, which you never let anyone else drive, so now you have the duties of getting us dinner.”
“fine,” he groans before turning to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. you sigh loudly and stand up dramatically, “fine, i’ll come with you.” he grins cheesily as he grabs his keys and twirls them in his fingers on the way out to his car.
“can i have aux, pleaseeee,” you beg, making your hands look like you’re praying and giving him puppy dog eyes. he rolls his eyes and hands you his phone, “no stupid shit or ill take it back.”
jack is a country guy through and through, which you’ve never really gotten into, so you two tend to fight a lot about music. of course there are some songs and genres that you two both like, but when you put on some morgan wallen, jack looks at you like you just told him you killed someone.
“what the fuck? you- you’re- you’re willingly playing country music?!” he exclaims as he turns to look at you with a shocked expression. you have a shit eating grin on your face, “yeah, my roommate actually got me into it. i don’t know how, but she did.”
jack feigns a look of sadness, “oh, so some random girl you meet at college can get you into country, but the kid who’s been trying to get you to listen to it for like 12 years can’t?!”
you throw your head back laughing, “hey! in my defense, i was never stuck in a small room for an entire semester of college with you. of course i got her into some taylor swift though, don’t you worry. it’s only fair,” you shrug. he rolls his eyes at you jokingly before mumbling something about how you’re a fake friend, causing you to hit his arm playfully.
after dinner passes and the parents settle in for a movie night, you and the boys head outside for the annual first-night fire pit and beers, which started when you and jack were about 17. you and jack grab the s’mores ingredients while luke and quinn set up the fire pit. you take your seat around the fire, with luke and quinn sat across from you and jack on your right. quinn then hands everyone, even luke, a beer, making you chuckle.
“aww, lukeys first beer at the fire pit with us,” you fawn, making everyone laugh. “okay okay shut up,” the younger boy groans, his cheeks turning faintly florid with embarrassment.
“so, mrs party girl, tell us how college has been,” quinn says, roasting his marshmallow to perfection. you blush faintly at the sudden attention, humming a little as you think of what to start with. “well, my sorority is great. i love my roommate too, she’s like my best friend now. no offense jack, you’re still important i swear,” you chuckle, turning to look at jack. he flips you off before letting you continue to talk about your first semester.
“oh and, this shook jack to his core, but my roommate got me into country music. i don’t know how, im seriously convinced she put a spell on me or something, but she succeeded.”
luke’s eyes widen, “you like country now?! you used to swear up and down that you hated it!” he exclaims.
“i know! i know, but somehow she got me into it. or well, at least morgan wallen, that’s it. some country artists music i still can’t stand, i promise,” you laugh.
“i feel like this deserves a toast or something, because now we can finally listen to country on the boat without any complaints from her,” jack teases. everyone holds up their beer and takes a sip, before continuing on with the conversation. about an hour passes and the sun is completely down as you all still laugh loudly, faces illuminated by the orange glow of the fire.
you yawn, snuggling further into your sweatshirt. which is actually one of jacks old sweatshirts from high school. the logo is somewhat faded and cracked now due to how often you wear it, but he doesn’t need to know that. “you tired?” jack asks you, leaning over his chair slightly to talk to you.
you nod slowly, a telltale sign that you’re about to fall asleep. he sets down his beer and stands up, reaching out his hands for you to grab. you sigh and take his hands in yours as he helps you up. “i’m gonna take this one to bed. i can tell she’s had too many beers,” he chuckles.
“i have not!” you protest, your worlds slurred ever so slightly. jack just chuckles and walks you inside as quinn and luke are left to clean up the mess.
“they’re bound to get together one day, right?” luke asks his eldest brother.
“man, i hope so. im tired of this whole, ‘she’s just my best friend’ act. dude is whipped,” quinn shrugs. meanwhile, jack is sitting on the bathroom counter while you take off your makeup.
“you what?!” he exclaims.
“i kissed a random frat guy at a mixer with my sorority. it’s not that big of a deal jack!” you laugh, and jack just shakes his head. honestly, he would be lying if this didn’t make him feel oddly jealous. he’s so used to always knowing the guys that are involved in your love life. like for example, he was there during the alcohol induced game of truth or dare where you were dared to kiss trevor. you guys were 16 and drunk, so of course it never bothered jack. but now, he feels a weird pang of jealousy knowing that you’ve kissed another guy and he’s never even met him.
despite the fact that you’ve never talked to the frat guy since the kiss happened, jack still finds himself laying in bed scrolling through his instagram. “jesus christ, why don’t my abs look like that?” he mumbles to himself, quickly realizing how dumb he must seem right now. he puts his phone down and sighs.
this is gonna be a long summer.
the next morning is filled with laughter as the parents cook up breakfast, while you and the boys sit at the table with a deck of cards, playing your favorite game, BS.
“bs!” you call out as quinn puts down his alleged ‘two-fours,’ which you know is false because you literally have three fours in your stack. he groans in defeat as he takes the pile of cards, “you’re too good at this game. it’s no fun playing with you,” he whines, making everyone laugh.
“maybe you’re just a shit liar,” you shrug. as if on queue, the food is placed down in front of you guys as the parents take their seats. you all make your plates, of course the boys grab the most out of everyone. you chuckle looking at the two pancakes and two pieces of bacon on your plate, compared to jacks which has four pancakes and five pieces of bacon, along with a heavy stack of scrambled eggs.
“greedy much?” you chuckle, nudging jack slightly. he flips you off as he stuffs his face with food. a muffled, “i’m a growing boy, i can’t help it!” falls from his lips, making everyone chuckle.
after breakfast is finished, your guys’ parents go out for the day, leaving you all to fend for yourselves for entertainment. quinn suggests going out on the boat for the day, which you all agree with. you head upstairs to your room, slipping on your favorite bikini and grabbing a sweatshirt and sunglasses. you grab a book just incase, but you know that you’re definitely not gonna end up reading it.
“hurry up, y/n!” luke yells, making you groan in annoyance as you close the bedroom door.
“shut up luke, im coming i’m coming,” you say as you walk down the steps. you and luke walk side by side to the dock, where jack and quinn are getting the boat prepared. jack, per usual, demands that he get aux, and you all know better than to argue with him about it.
he queues up his country playlist, as expected. you chuckle a little as you hum a long to a few songs while quinn slowly exits the no-wake zone. about three minutes or so later, quinn speeds up the boat and your hair is flying. laughter escapes your lips as you look over at jack, who’s sitting next to you. “god i’ve missed this!” you say, making him smile and wrap an arm around you slightly.
he rests his head on top of yours, “i’ve missed you,” he says. this type of behavior is normal for you two, so quinn and luke don’t even bat an eyelash.
you guys come to a slow stop before luke throws the large tube out onto the water. him and jack get on it and grab the handles, laying down on their stomachs waiting for quinn to speed up. “everyone ready?” quinn asks, earning a “hell yeah!” and a “hurry up!” from the two boys. he looks at you and nods before speeding up. suddenly, the raft goes flying and they last a whopping twenty seconds before they both let go and belly flop into the water. you and quinn erupt into a fit of laughter, grabbing your stomachs in pain and wiping the tears that are falling.
“holy shit, are you guys okay?!” you ask, still calming your laughter as they climb back onto the boat. jack groans slightly as he rubs his now red stomach, giving you a perfect excuse to stare. you bite the inside of your cheek as he rubs up and down his abs with his hand in an attempt to soothe the pain, blissfully unaware that his entire vline is showing. he fixes his shorts and you quickly look away after you realize you’re staring, and thankfully he doesn’t notice.
“your turn y/n!” he smiles menacingly, and you quickly shake your head.
“absolutely not! personally, i don’t have a death wish today, thanks though!” you exclaim, immediately grabbing your book from your bag. “you’re so lame y/n,” he pouts before sitting down next to you and rubbing a towel in his hair to dry it.
you can’t help but slyly glance at his biceps, when the fuck did he get this hot?
suddenly, ‘spin you around’ by morgan wallen begins playing and you jump up with a smile. “i fucking love this song!” you say, immediately singing along as the words begin playing.
yes, you’re a few white claws in at this point, but you’re also just happy to be with the people you love. you’re dancing around on the boat singing the words, and jack is looking at you like he just fell in love. his smile is big and his eyes are glued to you, watching you dance and sing like a crazy person, yet he’s not judging you. far from it, actually. he thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and the fact you’re in a bikini isn’t helping either.
he chuckles to himself and pulls the beer bottle to his lips, admiring the smile on your face and the way your cheeks are flushed from the sun.
the house is quiet since everyone is taking a nap or just resting from the long day out. you’re currently sat on the dock, playing some music from your phone and watching the water ripple from the slight breeze. the sun is approaching the horizon and you’re cuddled into the same sweatshirt from last night, the one jack gave you when you were 15.
suddenly, footsteps appear behind you and you turn around to see jack. “you okay?” he asks, sitting down next to you. “yeah, just got bored,” you shrug, turning down the music slightly. he smiles at the sight of you in his sweatshirt.
“watcha thinking about?” he asks.
“everything, really,” you pause. “i mean, isn’t it crazy how you and quinn are in the nhl, im in college, and lukeys already seventeen? i can still vividly remember when we were seventeen spending summers here, and talking about where we would end up for college. you were listing off your offers with no idea that you’d go first overall, while i was stressing about my common app,” you chuckle.
he smiles softly at the memory, “yeah, i miss those days honestly. i kinda wish i got the chance to go to college. it seems fun. maybe one day you can take me to a frat party,” he says before nudging your shoulder with his. you giggle slightly, “frats are gross and dirty, you’d hate it.”
“eh, maybe i would, but at least i get to spend time with you,” he shrugs. your cheeks run hot at his words, was he just being nice or was he flirting? you couldn’t tell, and the moment fell silent.
“i miss you, y/n. i miss living three blocks away from you. its so weird being in different states. and like, now you have all of these friends that i’ve never even heard of before. it’s really weird,” jack admits. your stomach turns with butterflies at his words, and you turn to look at him, praying the heat in your cheeks isn’t visible.
“i miss you too, rowdy. it’s hard being away from my best friend.” he rolls his eyes at the nickname but bites back a smile. as if on queue, spin you around by morgan wallen begins playing through your phone speaker. your face lights up, and jack suddenly gets an idea. “c’mere,” he says, forcing you to stand up. you furrow your brows before suddenly he starts singing along to the words softly, and you follow suit.
jacks heart is racing, but he knows that if he doesn’t confess his feelings soon enough, he’ll never do it. he takes your hands in his and sings along to the lyrics, “well you might tell me ‘boy hell nah,’ but hell what can hurt?”
you giggle as he takes your hands and spins you while singing, “cause i just wanna spin you ‘round, and ‘round this dance floor, get you drunk on a love like mine… might wind up and steal a couple kisses…” the rest of the words that jack sings along to fade as your heart thumps in your chest. he spins you gently around and then pulls you into his chest, looking down at you.
“cause the way you stole my heart without a sign, girl it outta be a crime,” he says softly. you’re wrapped in his arms looking up at him, a soft smile plastered on your lips and a heavy blush on your cheeks. “is it bad that i really want to kiss you?” you whisper, and jack grins like the happiest man on earth.
“i’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as i’ve known you,” jack quietly replies, his hands finding their way to the small of your back.
as the sky is painted with faint hints of pink and gold, jacks lips find yours for the first time in nineteen years.
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shortnspidey · 2 days ago
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CHAPTER ONE: ECHOS OF THE PAST
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bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader || WC: 3.7K
A/N: In honor of Sebastian getting his first Golden Globe (which was long overdue), I present to you all the first chapter for this series! Thank you for all the love on this series before it was even published! This first chapter is really angsty, BUT there is certainly more to come! Dividers by @sister-lucifer <3
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The familiar hum of New York City quickly faded as you stepped into the quiet sanctuary of your apartment. It was a stark contrast to the bustling campus of MIT, a place that had once held so much promise. The weight of the past few months hung heavy on your shoulders as you let out a long, weary sigh. You had returned home, defeated and disillusioned.
The keys in your right hand felt heavy, almost like an invisible weight was pushing you down. You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of disappointment and frustration. The sense of relief from being back home was met with the bitter taste of unmet expectations. You had dreamed of making a mark, of proving to yourself and to everyone else that you belonged at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world.
Instead, you found yourself constantly questioning your place, your purpose, and your abilities. As you finally turned the key and stepped inside, the familiar surroundings offered a small comfort. However, that relief was short lived. What you didn't expect was to see your father, in the flesh, sitting in your living room. His presence felt like an additional weight on your already burdened shoulders, amplifying the emotions swirling inside you.
Choosing to ignore him, you walked past the living room and into your room. You could bet that he would be following close behind you not even a second later. Sure enough, as you settled to unpack the little clothes that lay in your suitcase, you heard his footsteps approaching. "F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were back in New York," The stern voice of Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist or as you knew him, your father, interrupted behind you.
Letting out a sigh, you could practically feel the disappointment radiating off of him from your doorway. "Which I find very odd since it's nowhere near your winter break." You avoided eye contact as you fiddled with the items on your desk. "Funny enough, I gave a lecture at MIT and to my surprise my daughter was nowhere to be found. Especially since the academic advisor stopped me to inform me you haven't been attending classes for almost a month." God you wished he'd just get right to the point.
"Care to explain?" Not bothering to hide the nonchalance in your voice, you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Dropped out." The tension in the room was palpable, his silence spoke volumes, a mixture of disbelief and frustration hanging in the air. "Dropped out? What do you mean, you dropped out? You were doing so well." You could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took to keep his emotions in check. “MIT was your dream, not mine.” His eyes widened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of hurt cross his face.
You almost felt bad. Almost. "But you had everything going for you," He insisted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you with what you could only assume was utter disappointment. "The scholarships, internships, the many opportunities they offered… Why would you throw all that away?" You sighed, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "Because it wasn't making me happy," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I finally realized that I was living someone else's dream, not mine."
You had finally admitted it.
As you finally mustered the courage to confront him, a bruise blooming on his right eye suddenly stole your attention. The conversation about MIT, now seemed like the last thing on your mind. After what seemed like an eternity, you tried to gauge his expression, but came up short. "Well in that case," He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're grounded." Clenching your jaw you scoffed in disdain. "What the hell do you mean I'm grounded?" You spat, crossing you arms over your chest. "I don't think I stuttered." Tony rolled his eyes which only fueled your anger.
"I'm not five dad, I'm almost twenty-five, you can't ground me." You growled, digging your freshly manicured nails into your palm in frustration. "As your father, I believe that is one of the many privileges I still hold. You're clearly not thinking straight. You need time to reflect on your choices and figure out what you truly want." He looked at you with a mixture of worry and disappointment, his eyes searching for a way to reach you. "This isn't about punishment, it's about helping you." The more he talked, the angrier you became.
Of course, he was making this about him, as he somehow always seemed to do. Completely disregarding what you wanted, he continued to impose his will. The familiar feeling of being trapped under his expectations washed over you, instantly making your blood boil. "Helping me?" You echoed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You do realize that I just confessed that I don't want to go back to MIT, and instead of asking me why, you ground me instead. Real mature." You could feel the tears of frustration welling up, but you refused to let them fall.
You weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had affected you. This was your life, your decision, and you were growing tired of being treated like a child. He opened his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, the words spilling out before you could find will to stop them. "You don't get it, do you? It's like you only hear what you want to hear. I’m not some kid who needs to be sheltered from the world. I need you to listen for once!" His expression hardened, and you could see the frustration creeping into his demeanor.
Taking his silence as a sign to continue, you pushed back your nerves and tears, and decided a different approach to somehow get your point across. "Can’t you see that I’m trying to figure things out on my own? Grounding me isn’t going to help me in any way." He sighed, and you could tell he was struggling to find the right words. Tony Stark may be the smartest and most successful man in the world, but he sure as hell didn't know how to express himself. In words, at least. "I just want what’s best for you," His voice softer now, was almost pleading.
It almost made you feel bad for yelling. "Then try trusting me for once," Your voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation. "I'm tired of people not knowing my name, and only knowing me as 'Tony Stark's daughter'. You have to understand that, dad." The silence hung heavy between you, both of you staring at each other, the weight of unspoken words filling the room. You could feel the tension shifting, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he finally understood. After a pregnant pause, he suddenly found the words, just not the ones you were expecting.
"Well, I'm off, there's cheeseburgers in the kitchen." The casualness in his voice, as if the conversation hadn't happened made your frustration and anger resurface. "Just like that you're leaving," You scoffed in disbelief, but never the less expected it. This was typical of him, avoiding the deeper issues with a quick exit. "You really think cheeseburgers is going to make up for this?" You added, hoping for once in his life he was joking. Oh how wrong you were. “Settle in, watch movies, but do not leave this apartment under any circumstances.” He instructed, his tone firm as he moved toward the door.
"And if I leave?" You challenged, standing your ground as his hand hovered over the front door knob. He paused, his back to you. "Just remember I have eyes everywhere," Without so much as a final glance in your direction, he shut the door behind him. The thud echoed through the apartment, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As if on cue, your phone which laid abandoned in your bedroom went off startling you. Looking at the door one last time, you let out a huff, the frustration and disappointment evident in your breath. It was clear your father wasn't coming back.
With a resigned sigh, you turned and made your way to your bedroom. As soon as you picked up your phone, your heart dropped. Notifications filled the screen, each one more alarming than the last. You had been tagged in numerous social media posts, not to mention the messages from colleagues and acquaintances at MIT. Even Pepper had sent you a text regarding something called the Sokovia Accords. Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through the posts, the images and videos of chaos and destruction filling the screen. Your mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened while you were unaware.
Among the thread of messages, Pepper's stood out the most. "We need to talk. This is serious. Call me as soon as you can," it read. You could almost hear the urgency in her voice, and it made your stomach churn. You quickly dialed her number, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for her to pick up. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Hey sweetheart, are you okay?" She asked, her voice filled with concern. "I don't know," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "What even are the Sokovia Accords?" You heard Pepper sighed on the other end of the line.
"It's a long story, but to put it in the simplest terms, it's a set of legal documents that will regulate the activities of enhanced individuals." You felt a cold chill run down your spine as Pepper explained the implications. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. "Just be careful, okay?" You nodded even if she couldn't see you. "I will, I love you." As she echoed those words back, you hung up. The world seemed to be against you today, because not even seconds after you set your phone down, there was a knock present at your door.
It made your heart drop, especially since no one knew you were back in New York. Slowly, you reached for the knife hidden by your bedside table, adrenaline coursing through your body as you slowly inched toward the front door. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door. Taking a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Peering through the peephole, you saw a shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold, their features obscured by the dim hallway light. With your hand gripping the knife tightly, you cautiously unlocked the door, ready to defend yourself if necessary.
As the door creaked open, the figure stepped forward into the light, revealing a familiar face. "Uncle Clint," You breathed out immediately tackling the man in a hug. He instantly reciprocated, tightening his hold on you. “You ready to get the hell out of here, kid?” You couldn’t contain your smile, immediately nodding. Not needing anything else but your phone and keys, you locked your door following Clint down the steps. "Where are we going?" You asked, your curiosity piqued. "Germany," He replied nonchalantly making you stiffen momentarily.
Turning back as if sensing your unease, he gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm assuming you've heard the news about the Accords." You nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of his van as he unlocked it. "We just have to make a quick pitstop first." As you settled into the seat and the van roared to life, your thoughts instantly started racing. "What's the pitstop for?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Clint glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just picking up some... backup," He said cryptically as the sense of anticipation grew as you wondered what lay ahead.
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Arriving in Germany at the Leipzig-Halle Airport, it was safe to say you were a nervous wreck. Especially since the 'backup' Clint had meant was breaking Wanda Maximoff out of the Avengers Compound and picking up someone named Scott Lang. Thankfully, the witch had promised to stay out of your head so she couldn't read your inner turmoil. However, just by your body language, anyone could tell you were not 'okay'. "You okay, kid?" Clint's voice asked softly, his paternal instincts kicking in.
You managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just… thinking." The van's engine hummed softly as it entered the airport car garage, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the concrete walls. Clint raised a brow in your direction as the van entered the airport car garage, his eyes searching yours. "About what?" You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "Everything," You finally admitted. "The Accords, my dad…" Clint nodded understandingly. "Yeah, it's a lot to take in." He paused, then added, "You don't have to do this, you know. You can still walk away." His words echoed in your head.
He was right, there was nothing stopping you from walking away, especially since your father was in support of the Accords. However, something about how he was willing to start a divide within his closest friends made you angry. Maybe it was because he had failed to hear you out, just as he had failed to hear Steve’s side of the argument. The memory of your father’s dismissive tone and the way he brushed off your concerns played over and over in your mind, fueling your decision. It was safe to say you had already made up your mind.
Turning in your seat, you gave Clint a smirk, a spark of defiance lighting up your eyes. "No chance in hell." His smile widened at your words, and he reached over to squeeze your hand. The van came to a sudden halt, jolting you slightly. Only then did you realize that Steve Rogers was a few feet away, his broad shoulders and familiar stance unmistakable. He had his back turned to you, deep in conversation with two other figures. "Does Steve know I'm here?" You asked, a mix of anticipation and apprehension threading through your voice.
"He does now," Clint shrugged, his tone casual but reassuring. "Here goes nothing" You mumbled to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice," You heard Steve say to Clint as he extended his hand in a firm handshake. His voice was steady, but you could detect the underlying strain. Only then did his blue eyes find yours over Clint's shoulder. They widened slightly, a mix of surprise and relief washing over his features. "Y/N?" Steve breathed out, almost as if trying to decipher if you were real or not.
You lifted your hand in an awkward wave, finding the courage to step forward. Only, the super solider beat you to it. In two strides he was at your side, scooping you up into a much needed hug. His embrace was strong and warm, enveloping you in a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long time. You squeezed him back just as eagerly, hoping that through the hug you could tell him you were on his side. "It's so good to see you," He murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I just wish it was under different circumstances." You nodded, pulling back your eyes searching his face for any signs of the unease you knew he must be feeling.
"You know I've always got your back." You smiled, giving him a mock salute which made him laugh. "Nice to see you again, kid." You turned locking eyes with Sam Wilson who was giving you a teasing smile. "Hi Sam." You grinned, eyes landing on the figure standing beside him. Dressed in a red Henley, his posture was rigid, and his expression was guarded. "Y/N, this is Bucky." Steve introduced him, almost as if reading your mind. Bucky's intense gaze met yours, and for a moment, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
His eyes were a stormy blue, filled with a depth of experiences that seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Despite his tough exterior, there was something about him that intrigued you, a vulnerability that was almost palpable. Here it comes. Bucky thought to himself watching as your eyes flickered with recognition. "You're Sergeant James Barnes," You couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and empathy for the man standing before you. Bucky nodded slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. "Just Bucky," He corrected gently, as if trying to distance himself from the past that still clung to him.
You offered a small, understanding smile. "It's an honor to meet you, Bucky. I've heard a lot about you." You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch into a faint smile, almost as if for a brief moment the walls he had built around himself seemed to lower. Steve cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Thanks for having my back." He nodded towards Wanda who stood behind you with her arms crossed. "It was time to get off my ass." Her expression was one of casual indifference, but her eyes held a spark of determination. "It was time to get off my ass," She shrugged nonchalantly, her tone light but her commitment evident.
The corner of your mouth lifted into a smile at her straightforwardness. "How about our other recruit?" Steve questioned, turning his attention to Clint. His eyes met Steve's with a knowing look, and he gave a slight nod, signaling his readiness. "He's ready to go," He coaxed turning to open the sliding door of the van. "I had to put a little coffee in him, but he should be good." As Scott slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes, Wanda stepped in front of you, her stance protective, almost as if shielding you from his gaze. "What time zone is this?" You heard him huff, his voice gravelly and tinged with sleep as he climbed out of the van with Clint's encouragement.
You watched as his eyes widened when they landed on Steve, almost as if not believing Captain America himself was standing in front of him. His expression shifted from confusion to awe, his mouth slightly agape. "C-Captain America," He breathed out, the words barely more than a whisper. "Mr. Lang." Steve nodded politely, extending his hand out for him to shake. The gesture was calm and composed, a stark contrast to Scott's jittery excitement. "It's an honor," Scott beamed, his face lighting up with a wide grin as he proceeded to shake Steve’s hand longer than was deemed normal.
"Wow, this is awesome," You heard him mumble to himself. The awe in his voice was infectious, and you had to stifle a laugh as Steve and Sam shared a knowing look. "I know you too, you're great," He praised, turning to Wanda with an earnest smile. You saw her eyes light up, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she acknowledged his compliment. "Y/N Stark," His attention now shifted to you. "I'm a huge fan, your Mind-Weaver pitch was compelling. Should help a lot of people too." His words were sincere, and you could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes.
That was the first time you had heard someone acknowledge you as well as your work outside of being Tony Stark's daughter. It was a refreshing change, and you had to admit it felt good. A sense of pride swelled within you, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. Turning back to Steve, Scott nervously fiddled with his hands, his fingers twitching as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Uh, look, I want to say, I know you know a lot of super people, so thanks for thinking of me." He smiled appreciatively. "They tell you what we're up against?" Steve asked, his voice steady and calm.
"Something about some psycho assassins," Scott replied, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern. Steve nodded, his expression grim. "We're outside the law on this one, so if you come with us you're a wanted man," Steve warned, his eyes locking onto Scott's, ensuring he understood the full implications of joining their cause. "Yeah well, what else is new," Scott shrugged. "We should get moving." Bucky suggested, speaking up for the first time in a while. His voice was low but carried a sense of urgency. Clint nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the room as if already planning their next move.
"Thanks to Y/N's help, we got a chopper lined up," He added, acknowledging the crucial role you played. Suddenly, a buzz emitted from the intercom, sharp and insistent, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. It sounded urgent. "They're evacuating the airport." Bucky translated, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "Dad," You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. You picked at your nail polish, trying to distract yourself from the anxiety that was building up inside you, avoiding everyone's piercing gaze that seemed to bore into you, seeking answers.
After a moment of heavy silence, Steve seemed to mull over his options, his jaw clenched tightly. The tension in the room was almost palpable, each second stretching into an eternity. Finally, he made his decision. "Suit up," He commanded, his voice firm and resolute. You held your breath, suddenly feeling the realness of the situation wash over you like a cold wave. The gravity of what lay ahead settled in, and the room seemed to shrink as your heart pounded in your chest. This was it. You were officially going to face your dad in what very well might be the endgame.
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anonymouspuzzler · 1 day ago
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How much of a disaster would an ageswap AU of Villain Coded be?
i have been rotating this in my mind for an entire day smiling to myself thinking of how funny and also terrible this AU would be. Minnie the jaded old supervillain lesbian who has been living alone in a shack doing Major Crime for like 20 years and suddenly has to deal with Two Fucking Kids. Little baby teen Buck still so deep in the closet even he doesn't know and absolutely having a panic attack over running away from home and his Very Nice Very Pretty Friend who helped him that He Feels Normal About. Baby teen Davey just ride or die and making just, the worst decisions of his life, for reasons I can't get into but would be so so juicy to. Minnie is not equipped to handle these kids and their Deep Emotional Problems. it'd be awesome
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lynnaredfield3383 · 1 day ago
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Not my characters. Aged up 21. Swearing. Established relationship. Angst.
Katsuki's voice came through the line.
“I won't be home the next couple nights.”
“OK. Be safe.”
Katsuki was suddenly alert. Your voice was normal, but your response was nothing he'd heard before or ever imagined you saying. Did you know? How could you know? As fear crept in and took hold of him, he lost control.
“Look you know what hero work takes, and I wish I could be there with you…”
“Kats, it's fine. Really.”
You chuckle genuinely, refusing to comfort or dispel his uneasiness.
“I can change shifts…”
Bakugo's palms were sweaty now, and his hands were beginning to spark with nervousness.
“I took a shift tonight, so it'd be pointless. Now go get the bad guys.”
There was a brief moment of silence before he spoke again.
“Shit. You mad?” Bakugo asked.
You laughed at this and it actually calmed him completely. He knew your genuine laughs, smiles, and tones. Knew them so well, but why until this very moment had he thought he was bored of those things, of you?
Mad had never crossed your mind. Hurt, disappointed, discouraged, and done. Sure. But you'd never been mad at him. Not for a second. Bakugo wasn't cheating on you, just flirting with some woman at his agency. Though you wish he'd tell you he was ready to move on, you weren't mad. Nor were you going to hold him back. You loved him too much for that.
“Never mad. Never.”
“O-okay. I'll see you tomorrow night then?”
“Not sure. Depends on the case tonight. You know how hero work is, Bakugo. Bye.”
Bakugo had been caught on the fact you used the same line he had regarding hero work, but then he swore loudly as he realized you'd used his last name.
“Fucking fuck! Shit!”
Bakugo called you back, but it went straight to voicemail. So he started running redialing every few seconds.
As soon as you'd said his last name you knew you'd fucked up. Which is why you already left the apt. You moved all your stuff from his place into your new place a week ago. As observant as he was, he hadn't noticed because he'd only been home once in the last 3 weeks. Just to shower and grab more stuff. As soon as you ended the call, you rushed to block him, knowing he would blow your phone up in moments. You'd left the letter a week ago when you cleaned the house top to bottom the way he liked it and hadn't been back since.
“You good?” Shinso, your current case partner asked.
“Yeah, let's go.”
Bakugo was on the floor of the kitchen hot tears flowing down his face as he held the letter tightly.
Bakugo, Sorry I couldn't keep you interested. Never thought we'd end up like this, but it's obvious you have feelings for that woman at your agency. I saw you & heard you two flirting the day I dropped your lunch off. It's okay. I'm glad you found someone that makes you smile and laugh like I used to. Move on, be free, and accept that there are no hard feelings. I didn't give you a heads up because I know you'll fight for us. I don't know why, especially since you've already moved on, but that's just who you are. You never fail. You didn't fail me or this relationship. You didn't. It was just time for us to move on, and that's OK. It happens. Wish you the best always, but you need to know I can't be friends with you right now. Maybe in a few months, but let's see how it goes. Be safe, be #1 & live your life with no regrets.
Y/N
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ragingbookdragon · 22 hours ago
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Ain't No Sense In Closing The Gate
Tyler Owens x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Angst
Author's Note: My mom made me watch Twisters and all I know is that I want to bang Glen Powell like a door in a tornado. Enjoy.
**********************************************************************
She sat at the bar, nursing the glass of brandy that seemed to mock her with every swirl of amber. Laughter and conversation flowed behind her, but she sat with her back to it, more focused on the lull of liquid. She tugged her hat down lower over her furrowed brows, a stemming anger and yearning ache in her chest that seemed to rise like bile in her throat every time she heard his laughter echo from the pool table. She’d been so stupid. So foolish to spend all this time chasing him when he’d never even noticed, hell, she hadn’t even noticed until he’d found greener pastures.
“Can I sit with you?”
She looked up, barely managing to suppress the scowl when she saw Kate standing there.
“Yeah,” she muttered, gesturing vaguely to the stool beside her, and watched as Kate sat down and ordered a gin and tonic.
They sat in silence for a few moments, neither really wanting to engage with each other until Kate cleared her throat and admitted, “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”
“It’s not for a lack of trying,” she replied, taking a sip of her brandy, then sat her drink down. “I don’t like you,” she added. “But not for the reasons you think I do.”
Kate’s brows furrowed. “Did I do something to you that made you not like me?”
“No.”
“…then why?”
Laughter peeled from the pool table and they both looked over, watching as Tyler put Boone in a headlock and noogied him. It suddenly hit Kate at that moment and she looked down at the bar.
“Oh…” was all she murmured.
It made her blood boil.
“Don’t do that shit,” she scowled. “God, it’s so fucking annoying when—just,” she inhaled and exhaled. “It’s fine. He deserves to be happy. You both do.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Kate,” she interrupted and looked at her beneath that big Texas brim. “I’ve spent my entire life chasing Tyler Owen’s heart. I’ve done everything I ever thought would make him look at me the way it took you literal days to make him look at you.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t hate you. But I can’t say I’m fond of you either.”
Kate pursed her lips and nodded. “For what it’s worth…I think the two of you would be beautiful together.”
“Thanks,” she muttered with a sardonic smile. “But I’d rather him be with you.”
“Why?” she asked. “I thought…”
“I do, but I also recognize when a man’s heart is truly set on something. And…” she looked at Kate, really looked at her, the way her eyes were gentle, nothing like her own, hardened from years of chasing storms and steering cattle. “He needs a woman like you.” She sipped her brandy again. “I know when a horse needs to run. Ain’t no reason in closing the gate.”
Kate felt her own heart ache for the woman’s heartbreak. “I don’t know if it makes a difference, but I would like to be friends with you.” She didn’t let the woman’s arched brow and seemingly look of disgust deter her. “You’re amazing. And gorgeous. And funny, and—”
“Careful, Kate,” she murmured. “Making me think you’re into me too.”
Kate’s laughter bubbled from her without realizing it as her cheeks dusted pink.
She smiled tightly. “Keep him in line, yeah?” she asked, sliding a twenty on the bar before she downed the rest of her brandy and stood from the bar.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Kate replied, turning on the stool. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Nah,” she said. “I’ve gotta go home.”
Kate’s expression saddened. “I don’t want you to leave because of me,” she expressed. “Really, I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m not,” she answered. “But…I’m getting to old to be chasing storms, men…” she reached out and placed a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Sometimes, it’s best to listen when home is calling.”
As she pulled away, Kate hurriedly reached out and took her hand. “Will you ever come back?” she tried for a hopeful smile. “We’ll…we’ll all miss you.”
She nodded. “Maybe a visit or two in a few years, yeah?”
Kate nodded and let her hand go, watching as she weaved through the patrons of the bar, not stopping to say goodbye to the others as she disappeared through the wooden doors and into the parking lot.
***
She re-adjusted the duffel bag in the back of her black Dodge, setting it snugly behind her seat before she pushed the front back, dropped her hat in the driver’s seat, and stood straight. Her eyes drifted up to the stars above in the Oklahoma sky. It was practically the same clear view she saw back South, no clouds, no pollution, just bright stars blinking back at her.
“Leaving without saying goodbye?”
His voice startled her and she jumped a bit as she looked back, watching Tyler walk over to her.
“Road’s long to the mountains,” she said, tugging on the Carhart sweatshirt over her head.
Tyler smiled at her. “That it is. Ten hours, right?”
She looked at him. “What do you want, Tyler?”
His gaze turned solemn and he stepped up to her. “You’re leaving because of me.”
“Now that’s the most egotistical BS I’ve ever heard you say,” she laughed. “And I’ve heard you be egotistical before.”
“Pretty girl,” he started lowly, and she felt her insides melt before she inhaled sharply.
“Tyler, stop.”
“No, I want—”
“It doesn’t matter, okay,” she said. “It’s okay.”
He frowned, feet shifting in the dirt of the parking lot. “I didn’t know.”
“You did,” she replied. “You just…wished you didn’t.”
His gaze met hers. “I never meant to hurt you, pretty girl.” He reached up, knuckles gently grazing her cheek and she knew in her heart this was the only love she’d ever get from the man in the way she wanted.
She blinked furiously at the tears in her eyes and, unable to stop herself, leaned into his touch. “I know,” she whispered, throat tight with unspoken affection and desire.
Tyler took another step towards her, cupping her cheek in his hand.
“Tyler,” she stressed and he let out a low hum deep in his throat as he brushed his nose against hers.
“Let me,” he whispered in that smooth drawl. “Let me make it better.”
“Please, don’t,” she begged. “Tyler, please,” tears dampened her lashes. “Don’t do this to me.” She felt his lips almost brush against hers. “Tyler, I’m not…I won’t be strong enough to let go if you do.”
His jaw tightened, muscle twitching as he pressed his forehead into hers, and exhaled slowly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay, pretty girl.” He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his own a mix of regret and pain. “Text me when you get home?”
She swallowed hard and nodded, every fiber in her screaming as she pulled herself away from him. “I will.”
He watched as she climbed into her truck, the window rolled down and he stepped up to it. “Will you ever come back?” he smiled sadly. “Awfully lonely without you chasing with us.”
With me.
Her eyes met his once more as she roared the engine to life. “So long, cowboy,” she mused and rolled the window up, leaving him in a whirl of dust.
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billiesbossanovas · 2 days ago
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Letters
High school au
Warnings: angst angst angst, death, su!cide mentions, self harm mentions, relapse mentions. Please read at your discretion.
If anyone reading this, or reading any of my work, or just so happens to even read just the warnings, know that I’m always open for you to talk to me if needed, please take care of yourself and know that you are loved and cared for. <3
This fic is kinda me projecting 🙂‍↕️ (extreme exaggeration for some parts)
Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader
Not proof read
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You, y/n l/n, are part of the popular group in school, just from being long time friends with Tony stark, he was in the football team, mvp every game, best player in the whole school, you grew up with him, went through all levels or school with him, though you are the very contrast of him, nerdy, you would rather be reading than running around getting all sweaty and dirty.
One of his friends had caught your eye almost immediately, Natasha romanoff, a charming, tall redhead, at first she had struck you as kind, she smiled at you in the halls, even stood and had a conversation with you one time, that soon fizzled out, you had no idea why, she just started getting rude, giving you off handed comments or just flat out ignoring you. But you shrugged it off, it wasn’t anything major, just enough to make you slightly uncomfortable around her.
You sat on the bleachers watching as Tony was practicing with his team, him being your ride home meant waiting.. and waiting.. and waiting. It was annoying but also got you out of the house for longer. It was hard at home, your dad being ill and your mom being.. well your mom, so being out of the house was the best thing for your mental state, Tony knew that, he was the only person who knew how much you’d been struggling, how much you hated being at home. Hated being anywhere. So he offered to take you to school and drop you back at home after practices. He didn’t know everything, not about your plans or how you’d relapsed a week ago and feel back into your self harm as a coping mechanism, but some things are best kept secret, even from your best friend, especially from your best friend.
Natasha came and sat next to you, knocking you back into reality and huffed, she rested her chin in her hands and looked over at you. “What are you writing?” She snorts and laughs as you scramble to close your journal. “You’re such a dork” she grumbles before leaning back and watching as the team practices. You shove your journal into your bag and move it onto your other side, Natasha watches it and scoffs “I’m not gunna look in your precious journal” it’s said in a mocking way, but you know she means it, she’s not invasive, never has been.
Tony runs over to the two of you and gives a confused look before tapping you in the leg with his foot. “Ready to go?” He’s out of breathe and extremely sweaty to the point his hair was sticking to his forehead.
“Yeah- yeah let’s go. See you later Natasha” you stand up and put your bag on your back, she gives you half a wave and waits for Clint, he runs over and sits next to her as you and Tony walk away.
“So.. you doing okay?” He asks as the two of you get to the parking lot, you hum in response as he slings his football boots and jersey into the back seat of his car. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” He looks at you over the car, you give him a tight smile and sigh.
“I know.” Is all you give him, he stares at you, its intimidating like he’s trying to get information out of you with a stare, he lets it go after a second and climbs into the drivers seat. “Hey do you know my Natasha suddenly hates me?” You get into the car and out your seatbelt on, Tony takes a second to answer and looks over at you.
He opens his mouth and goes to speak a few times before smirking. “Tasha probably just likes you” he starts driving, he’s going the long way home, he always does. You just nod and think about it, if she liked you why would she be mean, acting as if it was a chore to speak to you without insulting you.
“Nah. I don’t think so.” You respond, the rest of the ride is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the radio, Tony focused on the road and you just watching as the houses and trees blur into one big mess, your demeanour shifts as soon as the corner turns onto your street.
Tony notices the shift in your energy, and the miserable look on your face. “You could sleep over at my house, my dad wouldn’t care.” He offers, trying to ease you a little, the offers nice, it would be great to even have a single night away from home, but you couldn’t, it wouldn’t be fair. You need to do chores, make sure everything is okay in the house.
“I-I’m okay, I’ll be fine.” He pats you on the shoulder, and watches as you drag yourself into the house. The moment you step in, you hear your parents arguing, you don’t what it’s over, but they’re loud and now only really shouting insults at each other, it had been going for a while now by the sounds of it, all you can do is sigh before walking up to your bedroom.
Dinner is silent, your dad eating what he can manage from his plate and your mom glaring at you while you eat. You look up at her, she scoffs and takes her plate to the kitchen sink. “You know you could help out once in a while.” She starts, aiming the statement at you. “I’m sick of doing everything around here. You could at least wash the dishes- or do the laundry.” You Finnish your food and take the plate over to where she is. “But even then you’d probably fuck it up- why don’t you just go study- or talk about me to your friends. Seeing as that’s all you do.” She takes your plate from you and starts washing it, you turn around to walk away from her. “I never get any help in this house.” She gritts out through her teeth, making a pang of guilt filter through your body as you make your way upstairs to your bedroom.
A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you close your bedroom door, you pick up your bag and take out your journal, sitting at your desk to finish writing your letters, the one addressed to you parents being the first one you finished, you had one for everyone you were close with, just for if anything where to happen to you, the one you struggled with the most was Tony’s. What would you even write to him, all you could write was ‘I’m sorry’ you’d work on it more later. Flicking forward a few pages you write a name down to start a new letter.
Natasha, you also didn’t know what to say to her, how would you write a letter for someone to read after your death, when they don’t like you, and you’re basically in love with them? You sighed and layed your head in your desk onto of your journal trying to think, you closed your eyes, maybe it would help. In the end you fell asleep ontop of your notebook, being woke up to your mother pounding on your bedroom door announcing Tony was here, and you needed to get of your ass and go to school.
Over the course of the next week, everything had gotten worse, Natasha constantly ribbing on you for writing all the time, To y started slowly pulling away as things with pepper started to get more serious, you were left to deal with your thoughts, and your parents on your own. Your dad had gotten worse, he’d been admitted into hospital which made home life basically hell as your mother raved and screamed about how useless you were, how you could do so much more with your life’s yet you spent it locked away in your room. While you agreed on the latter, you could be doing normal teenage things, going to parties, getting into a relationship. But you spent your time locking yourself in your bedroom, crying yourself to sleep after making yourself bleed, because that’s what you deserved, to feel pain. You were a shitty friend and child, so why not make yourself suffer even more.
The day your mother burst into your room and shouted “you’re so fucking useless, you can’t even wash the dishes correctly. If you’re weren’t here my life would be so much easier.” There was more to the rant, but that’s the part that stuck to you, that was your breaking point. When night time rolled around you finished the letters off, and packed them insulate into envelopes with people’s names on them. They’re out into your bag, and you leave the house at four in the morning, leaving the letter for your parents on your desk ready for whenever they decide they want to speak to you.
It’s cold out, the only thing keeping you even remotely warm being a thin zip up jacket, the walk to Tony’s house is weirdly relaxing, crickets chirping, wind rustling through the leaves, making you wonder if you actually wanted to leave this all behind, before you knew it you were at Tony’s door posting the letter. ‘This is the right decision’ was all you could tell yourself, justifying your plan.
Now it was Natasha’s place, you walk up to her house, to your suprise she’s sat on the door step with a cigarette in her hand as she takes a drag. “Oh I didn’t know you smoked.” You mutter out as you stand at the edge of her porch.
Natasha laughed and blew out smoke, she looked at you confused then patted the spot next to her, you gladly took it and sat down. “I didn’t know dorks snuck out at night” she smirks at you and flicks her cigarette out onto the grass. “What are you doing here anyway?” She asks with a sigh leaning back and looking off at the still dark, early morning sky, it’s clear, the stars are out it’s beautiful.
“The night is so calm..” you mumble softly as you look at her, “beautiful..” you don’t know if it’s about Natasha or the stars, she looks over at you. “Right.. here” you hand the letter over to her. “Just don’t open it until I’m gone.”
Natasha watches as you walk away from her, she looks at the letter, her name written in your unkempt hand writing. She opened the envelope with care and unfolds the lined paper.
‘Natasha,
Where do I start? Well for one I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong to make making you pissed off at me. Quite honestly I took a liking to you i really like you, a lot. And maybe in another universe we could have happened, I would’ve been easier for you to love, for anyone to love for that matter.
I love you, I’m sorry. ‘
As she read the letter, you were already climbing over the edge of a bridge, your shoes off sitting next to your bag. You stood there for a while, watching the water, maybe someone would see you and pull you down. Maybe deep down you didn’t actually want this. No, you knew this is what had to happen, what would make everything right, make everything okay.
Your jacket blows in the wind, the sun just rising over the water, giving you a sense of peace, clarity even, the wind blows in your hair, a rush coldness shivers its way down your body, for a moment you stop and think, are you just being dramatic? What if this makes everything worse?
There’s running the distance, Natasha comes sprinting towards you. “What are you doing!?” She shouts as she gets closer, she stops behind you, you don’t turn around, but you don’t step off the ledge either. “Come back on this side- you don’t have to do this” she whispers watching incase you make a move.
“I don’t have to do anything.” You mutter in response. “I don’t have to stay or go. But this is my choice to make, and I’ve already made it..” you look back for a second, Natasha looks frantic, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy and fast paced, she takes a step forward.
Natasha spends thirty minutes trying to get you to come down, talk you out of it, anything. You always thought it would Tony in this situation, maybe in the back of your head, you decide this time because you knew he’d be asleep, wouldn’t get a chance to read your letter before you’d get to the bridge, you listen quietly as she pleads for you to come down.
You take your jacket off and hand it to her, she looks at you confused. “A-are you coming down?” She asks softly, she takes your jacket and holds onto it.
“Put it on” you mumble, now looking at the risen sun, the way the it’s making the sky purple and pink, it’s gorgeous, reminding of Natasha. She doesn’t bother pulling the zipper down. “I love you” you sigh out as you hear her fumble with the jacket, when it’s over her face, that’s when you take the step, Natasha’s scream is over run by the rush of the wind in your ears, your arms extend, for a second, it feels like your flying, like your dad is holding you up in the air when you were two, a smile makes its way across your face, it’s only lasts a second, nothing more or less.
Then you hit the water, you close your eyes, there’s no pain, no cold washing over you, no warmth, no tears, and for a moment, you’re happy, really happy, truly at peace.
And there was nobody to take it away.
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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 21 hours ago
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41
i don't know what i did with this, and i'm certain it's not what you meant - but here's your fic for 41. "...because the world is saved."
~
Ash falls like snow, peppering Harry’s hair and coating the scattered stones of Hogwarts, softening their jagged, ruined edges.
Harry stands at its centre, his wand still warm and loosely dangling in his grip. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. He feels Voldemort before he sees him, fighting a wince as his scar throbs faintly. Voldemort’s presence had stopped feeling oppressive ages ago… so it must be all that hovering he’s doing over Harry’s shoulder—too close, too familiar, too worried.
“You were reckless,” Voldemort says, right when Harry feels the reprimand building in the air reach its boiling point. Voldemort’s voice is hoarse from battle, his face streaked with dirt and blood. Harry knows it isn’t his; he frowns at Voldemort nonetheless.
When Harry turns, he physically feels the weight of his exhaustion. It pulls down his shoulders, droops his head, and lines his face. Suddenly, he can’t imagine that he looks much better. “Reckless worked, didn’t it?” He asks, just to be annoying.
Voldemort’s mouth spasms in something that might be amusement or disdain—it’s hard to tell. “Barely. If you had died before finishing the incantation, they would all be dead.”
‘Again.’ Hovers in the air, silent and stretching.
“Well,” Harry huffs, “you’d have just had to try and save everyone on your own.” And he can’t help himself when he reaches up to thumb at the drying blood on Voldemort’s face—the near flinch he feels under his attention is so so satisfying. “Isn’t that right?”
He tilts his head away from Harry’s touch and sighs long and low. “You are insufferable, Harry Potter.”
Harry pulls his hand back easily, and a smile tugs up his lips. “Stop suffering me, then?”
The throbbing of his scar had faded with Voldemort’s settling (his needling is a way of reassuring himself, Harry now knows), but it’s back with a vengeance. Harry flinches this time. “Hey now, it’s just a joke—ease up, would you?” He waves Voldemort off, cooling him down or fanning the flames? He never has the slightest clue. 
For a moment, Voldemort says nothing; his dark eyes study Harry’s face like he’s almost got him all figured out, like he constantly unearths more questions with every answer, like if he just looks at Harry long enough—he’ll understand him completely. It’s been happening a lot lately. Harry’s not sure how there’s much left of him to discover with the way Voldemort digs and pries. 
The pain gets worse and spikes to near unbearable before abruptly fading altogether. Voldemort rolls his eyes when he says, “Your humour remains of poor taste.”
Harry opens his mouth to retort, something sharp and teasing to ease the odd silence and to avoid the masses a bit longer, but the words catch somewhere in his throat. His humour isn’t for anyone but himself to enjoy, yet a slight hint of guilt forms in the pit of his stomach. It makes home next to the strange tension that hasn’t let up since Voldemort caught sight of Harry from across the battlefield. He doubts Voldemort has stopped watching him since. 
The look on Voldemort’s face—half-exasperation, half something else—roots him in place. It’s a superficial crack in the otherwise unyielding wall, and Harry wants to see more, wants to pry back.
“You’re staring,” Harry says, his voice quieter now, though the quip still lingers on his lips. It feels too fragile to tease properly.
“You are hard to ignore,” Voldemort replies, his tone just shy of biting. The words lack venom, and something in the way his gaze shifts—falling briefly to Harry’s mouth before darting away—makes Harry’s stomach twist.
The words stamp themselves into the walls of Harry’s mouth before he has the good sense to think about them. “Then don’t.”
Voldemort freezes. He’s eerily still usually, but Hary can feel this pause like he’s stopped the very air around them. It feels alive, heavy, charged with magic—residue from all the fighting? Or is it all from Voldemort himself? And Harry doesn’t know why he said it, doesn’t know why his heart is hammering, but it doesn’t stop him from taking half a step closer.
“I do not think this—” Voldemort starts, his voice low, but Harry cuts him off without a second thought.
“Quit thinking for once,” Harry says a bit too forcefully, his fingers curling instinctively into Voldemort’s robes. His exhaustion somehow vanishes with the movement, like touching Voldemort, even barely grazing, renews him, every nerve alive and burning.
For a second that feels like eternity, neither of them moves. Harry really wants to. But now his brain seems to be operating like usual, possibly even thinking for the both of them, and it’s swearing up and down that he might have pushed too far…
But then Voldemort leans in. It’s not sudden, nor is it hesitant—it’s deliberate, as though he’s weighing every centimetre of the distance between them and making peace with crossing it. Their lips meet, soft and strangely tentative despite Voldemort’s near-constant certainty in his every action—though, has ever truly been certain around Harry? Especially recently?
Voldemort’s hand brushes against his jaw, cool and surprisingly steady. Harry’s breath catches in his chest, his hand tightening slightly in Voldemort’s robes as if to anchor himself. 
It lasts only a few moments, but it’s enough to leave Harry reeling when they part, their foreheads nearly touching. Ash still falls around them, the quiet of Hogwarts’ ruins amplifying Harry’s heartbeat. He needs to will it quiet, needs to let go of Voldemort, needs to rethink his life’s choices—
“Reckless,” Voldemort murmurs, his voice tinged with something like disbelief, cutting through Harry’s spiralling thoughts.
Harry lets out a shaky laugh, his smile soft but undeniably smug. “Yeah, well. Reckless works, doesn’t it?”
This time, Voldemort doesn’t argue.
~
i hope you like it 🥹
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Scars
Spencer x fem!reader
Prequel fic to this part (but can be read alone)
CW: pregnancy, kidnapping, torture, angst, also a little bit fluff. (not proofread)
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18 months ago
You felt the kicks before you felt the warm sun rays waking you up from your deep sleep. Your baby has been quite excited, you can tell. She is keen to meet her mom and dad, it seems. You open your eyes slowly and crack a smile at your very pregnant belly.
Sydney. That's what you both decided her name would be. Such a pretty name really. You immediately got up to make yourself some breakfast as your daughter isn't so calm when she starts to get hungry.
You then remember the absence of your husband. You really hoped he would be here before next week, as that's when your due date was and your daughter might come out any moment now. You didn't want Spencer to miss such a pivotal moment of your child's birth. You knew how much he looked forward to it.
As you make yourself some breakfast filled with all kinds of nutrients, your mind goes through all of your pregnancy journey. Spencer and you have always wanted to start a family and you were blessed with your angel a few months ago. You were both equally excited about the new edition to your family and made sure to do thorough research about how to ensure that she's safe and healthy.
Spencer was also very present these past few months, putting his foot down when he is needed here by you or your daughter. You really appreciated his support throughout your pregnancy but since a few weeks he has been quite busy. You understood that he can't keep putting off work to stay with you, but you also wanted him to do that for you. Maybe it was selfish, but you were also on the verge of giving birth to an entire human and you wanted your husband there to support you.
You thought back to the call with Spencer last night as you had your breakfast and wondered when you'll get another update from him. You eventually realized that you're focusing on him too much and he must just be really busy saving lives, so you ended up watching some movie on the TV.
Ring. Ring.
You were jolted awake from your morning nap by your phone's ringtone. You immediately hoped that it was Spencer calling to tell you that he's home bound.
"Hello"
"Hey, baby! How are both of my girls doing?" Spencer sounded tired.
"We're doing good, would do better if you're here with us though." You pouted.
"I know, love. I'm already on the jet, and wanted to check on both of you before we started. Will be there by evening." He sighed into the phone and you can feel him physically relax his shoulders. The case must have been a tough one, well tougher than usual anyway.
"Oh that's great news. I'll start on dinner soon. Love you baby, say love you to papa syd." You tried to make Spencer feel a bit less stressed and you honestly felt really glad that he'll be home soon.
"I love you both, stay safe until i get home." Spencer parroted back, and you can hear the caution in his voice.
You suddenly remembered that you forgot to inform about your doctor's call last night.
"Uh Spence, Dr. Min just called me yesterday. She wanted to see us tomorrow, I told her that I'll let her know if we can after I spoke to you today."
"What did she want to talk about? Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is Sydney okay?" He immediately questioned with worry.
"Yes, yes, we are completely alright. And Dr.Min did not tell me what it was about as she had some emergency and ended the call urgently. But I'm sure it's nothing serious." You said with a doubtful tone, you didn't want him to overthink it during the whole ride.
"It's okay, baby. I'll call Dr.Min, and ask her what it's about. Just take care." Spencer tried to reassure you and ended the call as the pilot was ready for take off.
You ended up taking another nap while snacking on some fruit platter as you were still full from your breakfast when you were once again woken up by a knock this time.
You checked who it was through the peephole first, Spencer instilled this cautiousness in you. It was just some delivery guy, maybe it was the new blanket you ordered three days ago for Sydney.
You excitedly open the door and were about to take your order when the delivery guy is pushed aside and you are being dragged out of your house by two really burly men. You wanted to scream, but they had their guns pointed straight at your belly. You gulped and cooperated with them.
"What do you guys want?" You tried not to sound so scared.
"Your husband knows what we want. Don't worry you'll get out of this unscathed if he listens to our demands." One of them replied and pushed you into a black jeep.
After that your memory goes pretty hazy, as you assume that they drugged you. You regain consciousness after a while, you don't know how long it's been but it was darker outside. You can see that through the only basement window in the room that you were held in. Yep, that's definitely a basement that you were in. You weren't scared as you had complete trust in your husband and his colleagues. You trusted them to save you and your baby.
You then heard some voices from outside the door. You remembered one of the voices was the man who brought you here. Just as you were about to concentrate on what they were talking about, the door to the room opened. In walked the two men who kidnapped you.
"Dr. Reid, as promised. Your wife is here, unscathed. Just get us that plane, our money, and Jason. We'll be out of your hair." He screamed into the phone, you assume Spencer is on the other side of.
"No I'm not going to do anything until you let me talk to her." Spencer tried to sound as neutral as he can, but even you can sense the fear in his voice.
"Alright, suit yourself." The kidnapper placed the phone near your ear. "Speak."
"Hello, Spence?"
You could hear the relief in his voice when he asks you to stay strong like you always do and that he'll be there to get you soon.
"Everything will be alright, baby. I'll be there."
And you believed him. Because why wouldn't you. You believed him with your whole being. You believed him. You made that choice. You let him deceive you. You let him deceive not just you, but also your daughter.
Spencer wasn't there. He wasn't there to save you. He wasn't there to save Sydney. He wasn't there when they cut you. When they left bleeding to your death. When they left Sydney to die with her mom. You still don't have complete memory of what happened after the call.
BAU unlike every other time, failed to deliver on their promise and failed to save you or Sydney. The kidnappers tried to get what they wanted by harming you, thinking that'll motivate the BAU to submit to their demands. But this time, the kidnappers were wrong.
Spencer found you that night, almost at the verge of dying. His heart stopped at the sight of you. Multiple cuts on your arms and your collarbone. One large gash on both of your wrists, blood flowing out uncontrollably. If only they were a bit faster, if only Hotch would have agreed to their demands. He knew that he couldn't blame anyone else but himself for what happened that night. He stayed by your side at the hospital until you regained your consciousness.
"Spence, What happened? Where am I? Where's Sydney?" Your frantic voice woke him up from his seat beside your bed. He looked like he'd been through some kind of apocalypse, maybe he was. His hair unwashed and disheveled. His beard, unshaven. His eyes, sunken, surrounded by pigmentation. He looked like he was crying non-stop.
Your thoughts immediately went back to that night.
"Sydney. Where's Sydney, Spencer?" You asked cautiously.
He looked like he was on the verge of tears and held your hands. His lips opened and closed, and tears started streaming down his cheeks.
"No, no, no. It can't be. No, not her. Spence." You were beyond frantic now. The tears came first.
You didn't want to believe that she was no more. Your love, your angel, your baby. Your Sydney.
You sobbed and sobbed and hiccups echoing off the hospital walls. Throughout it all Spencer held you, letting you express your grief. He had his time, although he thought no time could heal this wound. He wanted so badly to redo everything.
The BAU had all visited you and him, offering their condolences. Hotch showed up too, expressing his regret and guilt. Spencer assured him that he doesn't hold anything against him. You didn't reply to anyone. Not him, not his mom, not your parents, nor your friends. You didn't have anything else to say. You didn't know what one says when they feel like their soul has been snatched away. Their voice had been hijacked. Only thing you can know and feel for sure was the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your womb.
Days passed away before you knew it and it was finally time to go home. Spencer packed everything up from your hospital room and called out to you.
"(Y/N), It's time to go home baby." He whispered slowly placing his hand on your shoulder.
You looked away from the windows and towards him. Yes, nobody is at fault except Spencer. It was him who promised to keep you and your baby safe. But he was nowhere to be found on the day you actually needed him. He was the one who caused all of this. Your brain, filled with grief couldn't decipher what it was thinking or where your thoughts are taking you. You knew only one thing for sure, you wanted to hurt someone. You wanted him to hurt.
"Spencer you killed her. You killed my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, you almost thought he didn't hear you. But the way his eyes dulled and filled with guilt showed you that he did hear it.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby." He said, he sounded wracked with guilt. He started sobbing.
That was the first time in a few days you felt some kind of sick relief. A part of you ached at seeing him like that. But the sick satisfaction over took every other feeling.
"Spencer, I'm going to hurt you until I can find peace. I promise, and I don't break them like you do." Your voice was filled with vitriol. Spencer never even imagined that you could look at him with such hatred in your eyes, but he was proved wrong today.
He knew he was going to be blamed for everything. And he blamed himself too. He was okay with taking everything from you, because he knew behind all that hatred and vitriol, there was love. So he was willing to be your punching bag for however long you want him to be.
You realized that Spencer was going to accept it. And you knew you were just getting started. Maybe this will end up hurting you both, but you felt like that's what the two of you deserved in the end. For failing to save her. Your Sydney.
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a/n: Not that satisfied with how this turned out, wanted to write fluff but it turned out into angst 😭😭. anyways i'm thinking of writing a fluff series next and maybe an angst one too. deleted one on my old blog, want to restart it.
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thanosscross · 14 hours ago
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In your club - Choi Seung Hyun/ T.O.P x reader SMUT
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Summary: After going to a club Seung Hyun takes a huge liking to a certain drunk girl, who easily charms her way into his heart, even if he doesn't realize it.
Warnings: Smutttt
Whenever you went to your downtown night club, you weren't expecting much, it was New York, so you were used to a lot, not an entire K-pop boy band having an after party, thankfully you and your two friends were all let it, you were all a little tipsy already from your pre-game, so whenever you made it to the bar, you walked away drunk, giggling as you looked around the dance floor with your friends, trying to feel out the vibes.
As soon as the bass to your favorite song started playing your friends were quick to drag you to the floor, holding your hands as they danced. Your friend group dynamic was odd to an outsider, you were the youngest, but the mom friend of the group, but whenever you were drunk, you needed to be watched, it wasn't that you'd run off, but you were a giant flirt while drunk, and it only ended in a regret filled hung over y/n in the morning trying to find her way home.
Seung Hyun stood on the balcony with Ji-yong watching the dance floor scanning over the men and women dancing, pointing out any that caught each others eye, they were each others wingmen after all. As soon as Seung Hyun turned to look towards the door, a group of women caught his eye, Specifically the one in the middle swinging her hips to the beat while running her hands up her body through her messy h/c hair. "Ji-Yong, look" he shouted over the music pointing the girl out, a smirk slowly crawling onto his friend "I knew we could find you someone, buddy!" He cheered before making his way downstairs to find out the situation on if you were single or not.
As you danced along to the music you never noticed your friends giggling backing away as a man not much taller than you started to match your movements moving closer behind you "Hey! I'm Ji-Yong! My friend up there...Yea! there! He thinks you're hot! But he's a little shy!" the guy shouted over the music, you smiled nodding along to his words, resting your hands behind you on his shoulders, his hands going to your hips, your drunk self not wanting to leave the dance floor until the song was over. As soon as the music faded you giggled loudly turning around "I'm- Y/n" You hiccupped, regretting how fast you chugged your chaser, Ji-yong smiled leading you upstairs into the V.I.P area, leading you to a much taller man who was leaned over the railing holding a glass of some type of dark alcohol, you were too drunk to care. "This is my friend! You can call him T.o.p!" He shouted, you shyly extended your hand out, now suddenly your confidence and liquid confidence were gone, the taller man made you very flustered just by looking at you. "H-Hi!" You tried to shout over the music, the man just chuckled leaning closer to you while he gently held your hand, you were conscious of how close his lips were to your neck as he leaned close to hear you, and vice versa "I'm sorry, baby?" He asked, unsure of how much Korean you knew, if any at all "H-Hi, I'm Y/n" You said a bit softer, not wanting to shout in his ear "Beautiful, My name is Seung Hyun, but you can just call me Top" His voice was something you weren't expecting, it was deep, smooth, unlike his friends, not that his friend's wasn't also hot. You watched as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand, keeping eye contact with you "oooo! I love this song! Do you wanna dance?" You asked excited, the alcohol hitting you all over again, somehow stronger than before, especially after swiping a shot from a waiters tray downing it as you dragged Top to the dance floor.
Ji-Yong smirked watching his friend closely, finding it amusing that he was letting this small women boss him around and drag him around the club, but not wanting his friend to have a panic attack. You moved through the club with ease, stopping whenever you got to the middle of the floor, grabbing T.o.p's hands you moved them with yours as you pressed your back against his chest swaying your hips, after a moment Seung Hyun actually felt himself loosening up as he rested his hands on your hips matching your movements, laughing as you turned around singing along to the rap verse to him before walking up starting to dance with him again, this time facing him, he placed his hands back on your hips blushing as you bounced your hips into his with the beat of the music. You danced for about two more songs before you were at the bar having Seung Hyun try all of your favorites, even as he got more intoxicated, he still never got an attitude with you, always letting you drag him away chuckling or smiling.
Moving back to V.I.P to take a breather, Ji-Yong could definitely tell his roommate and best friend would be coming home with company tonight by the way he held your hips as he stood in front of him trying to spot your friends from the balcony. You leaned over further trying to get a better look in the dark, Seung Hyun quickly held you tightly noticing both of your feet were dangling in the air from how far you were leaned out. Whenever you popped back onto your feet, your new friend, T.o.p pulled you close to him "Be careful, beautiful" He whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, you just melted into his touch, looking up to notice he was smoking, you tilting your head you reached up, he was quick to arch his head up higher before taking the joint from his lips, handing Ji-yong the joint before blowing the smoke into your mouth slowly, if you could melt anymore, you would. "I don't want you too messed up" He chuckled, you just shrugged dancing along to the music as he continued to speak with his friend, his hand never leaving your hip as they swayed back and forth.
"Where did mean Seung Hyun go huh?" Ji-Yong teased pushing his friends shoulder laughing "Shut up! She just looks so sad anytime I say no" He frowned "Plus she's really fuckin hot" He slurred, drinking the rest of his drink, he had lost count of how many he had, he just knew if it weren't for the colored hair, he'd have no idea who he was with at the club. You squealed seeing your friends waving them over before turning around resting your hands on Seung Hyun's chest "I'm gonna go let my friends they can go ahead and go" you whispered in his ear, he smirked nodding, holding your hand until you were to far to keep ahold "You better not fall in love, Seung Hyun!" His friend warned, he just rolled his eyes "I'm not! She's not even my type! I don't like the clingy girls" he stated, biting his lip as he peered around his friend to find you, wanting to make sure you were okay, even in his drunken state, he still knew how risky it was being a female drunk. Watching you walk back over he held his hand out to you, blushing brightly you took his hand in yours letting him pull you back over into his arms, as you started dancing to the song playing you noticed T.o.p's smirk and his friends chuckles "what'd I do?" You asked tilting your head, now feeling nervous they were laughing at you, Seung hyun couldn't help but mentally aw at your confused face, he just shook his head continuing to chuckle as he leaned into your ear "This is our song, beautiful" He whispered in your ear, you raised your eyebrow, skeptical, you had guys try that line before, what convinced you though, was Seung Hyun leaning closer to you swaying his hips as he rapped along to his verse of Zutter, watching the realization wash over your face was adorable to Seung Hyun, you continued dancing, now enjoying the song a lot more, grateful for all of the trips to South Korea, and other countries your dad would force you on as an 'i'm sorry' present for getting a divorce with your mom when you were a teenager.
"You want to come to my place, beautiful?" Seung Hyun asked checking the time, it was about four AM, but he was not about to leave you especially knowing your friends had left hours prior "A-Are you sure?" You asked, he could tell by the glint in your eyes you were still a little drunk, but you were both mainly high rather than drunk at this point. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't sure" He smirked pressing his lips to your neck, something he'd do occasionally throughout the night, only once or twice but it was starting to get to you. T.o.p kept his hands on your hips helping you keep your balance, knowing you could very easily do it own, he wanted to make sure. As you climbed into the limo you were in awe, yea you came from money, but not like this, you came from maybe a fancy car or two for the family, and maybe two yearly trips out of the country, not ride in a limo rich.
"Beautiful" Seung Hyun's deep smooth voice broke you out of your awe state, only now noticing you had sat on the opposite side of the seats from him "You scared of me now, jegi?" He teased reaching a hand out, you blushed taking his hand in yours, giggling as he pulled you next to him as the limo started to take off. "Why would I be scared...just because you're bigger?" You teased looking at him through your eyelashes, he just smirked pointing at you "No pulling that face" He warned playfully, the smile on his face giving him away immediately, you smiled, giggling again as Seung Hyun handed you a glass identical to his, taking a small sip from both before letting you have full grip of yours, tilting your head confused you looked at him "So you know it's safe, beautiful" He replied before taking a large drink from his, not wanting his liquid confidence to disappear to early, you blushed at his kindness before downing your drink in one go, grimacing at the burning sensation it left in your throat "Damn" Seung Hyun gasped "You're supposed to sip it!" He laughed cupping your cheek, kissing your lips softly, using his tongue to lick off any remaining whiskey from your lips, pulling away he smirked at your shocked and flustered reaction. "I can't help it, I wanted both my hands free" You pouted setting your drink down before placing your hands on his chest kissing his softly, purposely poking your tongue just enough to tease him before pulling away moving your kisses down his jawline. His grip on your hips tightened as his breathes became shaky, his pants becoming tighter and uncomfortable, it wasn't the kissing that turned him on, it was the gentleness behind your actions, every girl he had almost slept with was always rough, trying to rip and rush, and while Seung Hyun enjoyed his fair share of rough sex, that wasn't was he was looking for after a stressful show.
As you approached his front door, you felt his hands land on your hips "Are you sure, beautiful?..I can bring you home if you don't want to come in" He offered, his tone deep but soft, almost like he actually cared about you, even though you were only a one night stand. "As long as it's with you" You whispered reaching up pulling Seung Hyun's lips to yours "Can we please go inside, Top?" You asked, giving him the same look from earlier, he just smirked leading you inside, Ji-yong following behind making sure to shut and lock the door, finally happy to see his friend getting laid and seeming actually excited about it. As Seung Hyun backed you into his bedroom, his lips were attached to yours, hands exploring every inch of your body, you slowly moved your hands to push off his jacket, starting to undo his buttons on his shirt whenever he caught your hands quickly, giving you an intense stare for a moment "I-I'm so sorry" He started to apologize, his anxiety starting to kick into full drive, this is how it always went, he'd freak out, scare the girl away, and then feel terrible he ruined all of his friend's hard work. You just looked at him though, almost like you were trying to understand him without words "Top?..Are you okay?" You asked softly, ignoring the slight pain in your wrists from his grip "I-I" He started but his quickened paced breathing stopped him "You're alright, we don't have to take it off, I can keep mine on too" You offered, finally understanding it all started with his shirt "I used to need to do that sometimes too.. a lot actually" You tried to comfort him, which appeared to work slightly, his head turning with a pout painted on his face as soon as you offered to keep your shirt on "Oh no no this has to come off, I have to see" He stated leaning over you, you smiled a bit but cupped his cheek "You're okay, right?" You asked, offering him a sympathetic look "I'm good, beautiful" He replied before pulling at the bottom of your dress, helping you lift it off of your head, staring in awe biting his lip as he noticed you had been without a bra or underwear all night.
You gasped watching Seung Hyun start to kiss up your thighs towards your pussy, biting your lip as you locked eyes with him, only now seeing how handsome the man between your legs was. As soon as Seung Hyun licked a broad stripe up to your clit you immediately had your hands tightened and twisted in his sheets. The longer you kept eye contact with him the weaker you felt, throwing your head back whimpering loudly as he pressed two fingers inside of you. You weren't a virgin, but you weren't exactly used to having sex, most times you did you were drunk, other than that, you used a variety of toys. "Jagi, you're fucking tight" Seung Hyun commented, sucking on your clit softly before moving his lips to your thighs, leaving a trail of hickeys, his fingers starting to move and curl inside of you. Seung Hyun found a lot of enjoyment watching your confidence dominant act was now out the window now that his fingers were inside of you, he watched his your back arched and how your head tossed side to side as you begged to move faster.
"Baby, I'll do whatever you want, you just have to ask quietly" He whispered, repositioning himself to move his finger in and out of you a lot faster than he originally started with, the curling he did only quickened aswell. You were already getting closer, not noticing he was adding in a third finger until his lips were against yours asking if you were ready. Your head immediately went back into the pillows as your back arched, Seung Hyun smirking, loving the way you were falling apart just by his fingers "Do you want something else, Jagi?" He asked, planting soft kisses up from your stomach to your nipples up to your lips "Do you want more, princess?" He asked, You leaned up, pressing your lips fully against his as you panted "I want you, top, please" You whispered against his lips "Whatever you desire" He smirked playfully bowing before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, making eye contact as he licked them, He pulled off his jeans and boxers, reaching over grabbing a condom slipping it on. "Ready, beautiful?" He asked, you gasped a bit shaking your head, afraid you were hurt he pulled away, you quick to grab his shirt collar pulling him to lay flat on the bed "I wanna ride you" You offered, he just raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes growing a shade darker if possible as he held your hips, helping you guide yourself onto him.
As you slowly slid down having bottom out inside of you, you were both panting and moaning, pulling each other close "H-Holy shit" You whimpered starting to roll your hips, running a hand through your hair to keep it out of your face as you started to find a rhythm you liked. "You like, baby?" He smirked, feeling cocky until you started to bounce your hips in between you rolling them "O-Oh my- H-holy shit" He panted letting his head fall, you weren't doing much better, using one hand to help balance yourself, and the other to try and stifle your whimpers and moans "Oh, princess, come here" Seung Hyun said in a teasing tone, pulling you down to capture your lips into a heated kiss "Is it too much?" He continued, you just moaned in reply, whimpering loudly whenever his hand moved to meet your clit, rubbing soft circles with his index and ringer finger, You arched your back moaning against his lips, scratching down his chest, not realizing you had ripped his shirt along with it. "Fuck" He groaned, flipping you both over, using the new position to fuck you at a different angle, you panted looking up at him as you dug your nails into his back leaving bold red scratch marks down it. "You're going to make me cum if you don't stop" He warned, you didn't listen though, too close to the edge to process anything he was really saying, noticing your state, Seung Hyun picked up his pace, leaving hickeys down your neck as he started rubbing your clit again, your moans turned into calling out his stage name repeatedly, before turning into a blubbering moaning mess, Seung Hyun moaned softly as he felt you squeeze around his cock before feeling you cum around him, he grunted, trying to hold on, but feeling you trying to pulling cock deeper broke him, causing him to kiss you deeply as he came into the condom, panting against your lips, neither of you aware of the awkward conversation that awaited tomorrow morning.
--
my lordy! This was a long one!!
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cartersblogabtnothing · 26 minutes ago
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i didn’t think about adding babs or steph because i know they aren’t technically batkids, but i shall do it now for fun!
7)
stephanie has not a fucking clue how she got where she is, wherever… that… is…
it looks like new york, sounds like new york, smells like new york… but… there’s something different about it that she can’t put her finger down on.
the last thing she remembers happening in gotham is taking a bite of a burger from Batburger. it was a good burger. probably because she hadn’t spent any of her own money on it.
but, just as soon as her teeth sunk into the burger, a weird light bulb blew and then the next thing she knew she was sitting in a different restaurant. she felt different too, like her insides had been rearranged.
she was very uncomfortable.
steph wandered around for a while, her eyes darting around the city aimlessly as she tried to find something as an identifier. she came up empty handed outside of some news channel complaining about some… spider… guy.
she wasn’t really paying attention in all honesty. she was more concerned with where she was.
steph let out a sigh, shaking her head. she felt a little hopeless, walking around aimlessly in an unfamiliar city in god-knows-where. she tried thinking about what bruce would do, but the thought made her angry so she ignored it completely.
she took a left, and suddenly she was face-to-face with the spider guy from the news channel. she blinked a handful of times, making sure she wasn’t going mad.
the person was climbing a wall like it was the most normal thing in the world, their lean build making climbing easy and efficient. she considered, just for a second, to try and do that herself whenever she got home.
“what the fuck,” she lets out suddenly, staring.
the person’s head whips around and they stare with a blank expression on their mask. they tilt their head, staring.
“you’re not from new york,” they said simply, and steph rolls her eyes. “you’re not from here, are you?” they ask and she stiffens.
“how did you know that? did you send me here? if i could —“ she starts and the person shakes their head.
“no. i didn’t, but i can help bring you home.” they sigh and hop down, landing on the tips of their toes with practiced grace.
and they did just that, after eating mexican food with steph on the rooftop of their apartment building. they talked for a while, mainly about their shady parents and even shadier parental figures. they really did bond, and steph actually really liked peter. even if their… strange… spidery tendencies scared her. she liked them.
she liked them so much that she even offered them to come with her after the weird contraption had been built, but they declined. she left their world feeling both a little lighter, and a little empty.
8)
barbara had been considering quitting for years, after getting shot and almost killed by the joker really put a damper on her second life. even if she loved batgirl, she couldn’t continue putting her health at risk.
…which is what she told herself before she jumped at the first opportunity to go on patrol with bruce again. she really should’ve said no, especially considering the new magic user in gotham city.
which is why she’s in the situation she is, now. he had blasted her with… some sort of… ray from his fingertips. it was weird, it felt violating, and she felt sick afterwards.
well, she felt sick after she hit the hardwood floor of someone’s apartment.
someone who… curiously enough… had jumped up and stuck to a wall, and stared at her with wide eyes. they looked nervous, scared, and protective.
they reminded her a lot of tim. it made her smile.
and then gag.
where was she??
she stood slowly, brushing the dust off her suit before placing her hands on her hips.
“where am i?” barbara asks, tilting her head.
“my apartment.” the person huffs before they hop off the wall, landing gracefully.
“i assumed.” barbara huffs back, crossing her arms over her chest. “and where is that?”
“queens, new york.” the person mutters, standing in a defensive position - but their limbs remained loose and pliable. it was a talent that only dick could master, and she was immediately impressed.
“new york…” she murmurs, nodding her head. “i’m not from new york.” she sighs.
“i can tell.” the person hums, nodding their head. “jersey? you sound like it.” they mutter, and she smiles softly, nodding.
“yeah — uh — but… i feel weird. like… my insides are twisted.” barbara mumbles, holding her stomach.
the person’s eyes widen slightly before nodding tiredly, and they walk away. barbara didn’t even have a chance to call out before they came back in with some device.
“do you know how many people i’ve had crash into my apartment after being teleported across dimensions?” they ask as they ready the device up. “four people. it’s concerning.”
barbara laughs, and the two talk for a while as the person — peter, she learns — fixes the device up to help her get home. she learns that peter’s a vigilante too, named spider-man, and they were bit by a radioactive spider. which she thought was cool. she also learned their favorite things, their interests, and she realized they were more like than she thought.
she had offered to show them where she comes from, but they told her it was a one way trip. barbara felt like she was losing an old friend, which was strange, but she moves on anyway. brace face and all.
she goes back to gotham and tells a million stories of peter and her adventures, and she wishes she could be back in his shabby apartment laughing over goldfish and protective fathers.
i’m sure we’ve all read at least one or two “peter parker in gotham” fanfics. they’re a personal favorite, especially when they’re done well. and i do get why peter is always in gotham, but…
…why not put one of the batkids in peter’s new york? i think it’d be interesting.
my personal favorite is tim drake, but i do think any of the batkids would be absolute comedic gold. here’s why:
1)
dick would’ve 100% “fallen” into some portal during a fight and ended up in new york. at first he thought it was just that, the portal teleported him into new york. whatever. that’s like a regular tuesday for him.
but then he saw some news program (“The Daily Bugle”) talking about some… Spider-man guy that dick’s never seen! never heard of! who the fuck was this guy and where is dick!?
he momentarily freaks the fuck out before giving himself a mission; find out where the fuck he is and then get back home. easy enough. he’s been stranded before. it should be easy for him to get back home.
at least he thinks so, until he bumps into the aforementioned Spider-man guy, who is surprisingly friendly despite the strange way they move. guess the spider thing was fr.
they bond over acrobatics while peter is attempting to figure out how to build a teleporter (he figures it out quicker than expected and spends far too much time styling it)
2)
jason was on a mission with the outlaws, and one thing led to another and now he and the rest of his team had been teleported to different locations.
he had assumed that bullshit ray gun was some dollar general version of the big stuff until he walks head first into a humongous spiderweb that sticks to his helmet.
jason fucking hates spiders.
he freaks out (duh) and yanks his helmet off and stumbles away, staring at the way it just… hangs there… and suddenly he knew for a fact he wasn’t supposed to be there.
he looks around for a while after that, helmet-less and confused as all fuck. he thinks distantly that maybe he could just restart here. no joker, no batman, no nightwing, no responsibilities. he could make it work.
on his walk, he comes across a mugging. he attempts to get in there, of course, but he’s completely outgunned by some soft-looking fuck in red spandex.
red spandex! what the fuck!
the red-spandex person cleans the mugging up swiftly, and then they turn around to see jason there. they freeze, their mask scrunching up.
jason tries to shoot at them, but his hands get webbed to the wall before he could even reach into his pants.
he’s mildly impressed.
3)
tim is completely whelmed when he just… disappears on his walk back to the manor after school. there’s no portal, no laser beam, no spell… he just… trips once and then falls through the sidewalk. it was so fucking weird.
he’s caught off guard as he’s spit back up from the other side, coughing and heaving breath after breath into his lungs as he takes in his surroundings. he’s in some bad smelling alleyway, and he could feel at least three other people near him.
he’s in a loud, busy city with tall buildings and aggressive crowds. it’s too bright to be Gotham and too gloomy to be Metropolis.
where is he?
he stands shakily, brushing himself off before looking around again. more focused this time, though. he focuses on his location.
he turns to see a homeless man staring, and before he could even open his mouth, the man screams before hissing at him and running the opposite way.
what the fuck?
he tosses his hands in the air before getting cut off by a snort, and he whips around to see a lean, thin, soft-looking person in red and blue spandex. their face is covered by a mask, but even then their mask is so animated that tim feels immediately impressed.
“you scared jimmy.” the person says simply, tilting their head.
“you scared me.” tim responds, tilting his head slightly to mirror them. they laugh, their white eyes narrowing.
“you’re not from around here,” the person says slowly, leaning forward slightly. “let me guess… jersey?”
“huh, how’d you know?” tim snorts, shaking his head.
“accent.” the person shrugs.
the two bond quickly, over everything and nothing at the same time; and they simultaneously figure out that tim is in an alternate dimension and they work together to figure out how to get him home.
by the time tim returns to gotham, he’s picked up more of peter’s spider-like attributes than he’d ever like to admit.
4)
damian doesn’t want to admit that he went head first into a villain’s trap, but… he did.
in his defense, his father did nothing to stop him from doing it. truly, it’s his father’s fault. not his.
he blinks awake to find himself in a puddle, and theres cold rainwater falling onto him and soaking into his suit. it’s uncomfortable, cold, and he feels like curling into a ball and hiding.
but he can’t. he can tell he isn’t in gotham. what if he was somewhere unsafe? he needed to stay vigilant and aware.
he sits up, and immediately feels eyes on him. he looks around, paranoid and on guard.
before he can really understand what’s happening, he sees a person dressed in red spandex hop off what looks like a human sized spider web, landing on their feet with perfect, practiced elegance.
“you’re too young to be dressed like that,” the person begins as they walk closer. “too young to be what you are.”
damian scoffs and stands slowly, hiding a wince as he leans on his left foot. something’s sprained.
“hardly.” damian shakes his head, and the person tilts theirs in response.
“i had a feeling, but i had hoped i was wrong.” the person says softly before walking closer.
the last thing damian remembers before waking up in a warm bed was a warm hand grabbing his arm gently.
the person in red spandex reveals themselves, and they talk. for a while. damian ends up really liking them, especially after they tell damian all about the spider that bit them.
he almost doesn’t want to leave.
5)
while shadow traveling (like in pjo?), duke goes a little too far. he knows he should’ve gone back, but he’s never gone this far and he was so curious it ached.
so he kept going until he walked out the other side, into a very busy alleyway. it smelled of garbage and weed, which didn’t necessarily bother duke but it did tickle his nose slightly.
he decided to figure out where he was first, and then worry about getting back. if he found out a way to get from one timeline to another, then bruce would be extremely grateful to have duke’s abilities on his side.
right?
duke could only hope so.
he walks around for a while, ending up on a very busy sidewalk. he sighs and steps next to a hot dog cart, to which the man stares at him strangely before shrugging and preparing a hot dog. duke goes to refuse, but hears… something in the distance.
he didn’t have time to react before the hot dog cart’s owner held the hot dog out to the street, and a person dressed in red spandex swung past and snatched it up. then, a few seconds later, a five dollar bill was… webbed to the side of the hot dog cart.
duke stared in awe, his eyes wide as he watches the scene. he immediately searches for a library, and immediately begins looking up who this person in red is.
does he forget that he isn’t dressed like a normal civilian half way through? yes. does he fix that? no.
he tracks spider-man down pretty easily, and asks them a million questions all at the same time, to which his mouth gets webbed for. spider-man snorts and answers every single one of his questions.
duke feels so heard it hurts his heart.
he shows spider-man how he did it, bids them farewell after letting spider-man take a picture and several notes of duke’s powers.
duke goes back to gotham feeling light and warm, a smile on his face.
6)
cassandra woke up on a rooftop, feeling sick and tired. she assumed it was some sort of alternate dimensional travel, considering she had been in a space ship beforehand and now she wasn’t.
she uses context clues as well.
the loud bustling streets, the tall but modern buildings, the laughing, the music — none of it is gotham. she knew that very well, but she was still rather confused.
if she wasn’t in space, if she wasn’t in gotham, where was she?
she lets out a silent grunt before slowly sitting, and then standing up. everything hurt. she guessed her spaceship had crashed into some sort of… cosmic ray or portal and she fell out of it. made the most sense.
she looks around slowly, taking in her surroundings like she was taught. she sighs softly when she turns up empty handed, back at square one.
one thing she does notice is the obvious eyes on her. the person isn’t trying to hide, which means she probably in their terf. that isn’t good. not good at all.
cassandra barely turns her head before she feels something pulling at her wrist. looking down, she finds her wrist being tugged by a synthetic spiderweb. it was sticky, silky, and had far too much pull to it.
she twists her arm and pulls on the webs, and then the person comes forward with a heavy step. shiny red and blue spandex fits this person’s body like a glove, and the mask they wear is far too animated to be authentic. must be a function.
the two fight, and as they do cassandra watches the person’s spider-like tendencies. they move with suck fluidity that she feels inferior for the first time in a long time. she’s left in awe, almost.
eventually, she forfeits. she knows when she’s about to lose a fight, when it’s better to stop and give up then die fighting. even if this spider person doesn’t seem hostile, just protective.
“i’m not from here.” she states simply as she’s allowed to stand.
“i know.” the person responds, and cassandra feels more at ease than she did beforehand.
the person - peter takes care of her during her time in new york. gives her a bed, hot food, and even a fake identity for the time being. it works, and eventually she’s back home.
sometimes she tries to mimic peter’s fighting style, but without his abilities, she comes up short.
but the memories are warm and fuzzy and she likes to dream about it.
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joostcafe · 3 days ago
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Thoughts on Stereotypical Nerd x Alt!reader where Chris acts all head over heels and does whatever reader wants around everyone else but Chris is the one who actually dominates reader and has reader under hhis thumb 😵‍💫😇🫶
Your needy work on chris have my head spinninnggggg
REQUEST: chris hartley x fem!reader
i have maaany thoughts about this..chris face fucking you for being a brat…oh god yes.
(but also him being kind of a nice dom, just trust me)
18+ MDNI !!!!! warnings: oral, dom!chris
Everyone knows you have Chris wrapped around your finger. I mean he’s a gentleman, he’s always so gentle with you. He loves treating you right, giving you his full attention no matter what. Even if you’re know to be playfully rude he’s still giving you those pretty eyes.
like fuuuck imagine you both are out with the group and you all are playing a board game or something and they’re teasing him because you’re winning. You’re playing along and clinging onto him a little too much. Grabbing his thigh under the table as his face turns hot. When you look down he’s so hard and giving you that look ( i’m gonna fuck you senseless tonight )
He’s so mad lol, that man has plans of not let you sleep.
The car ride home is silent but his hand never leaves yours ( he’s a gentleman i’m telling you )
The moment you walk into your place he’s picking you up quick. He’s barging into your room and tossing you onto the bed.
“Take off your clothes.” He says before unbuttoning his pants.
It takes you too long and he’s practically tearing them off for you.
His eyes are collecting every inch of your body as he goes to kiss your neck. You melt onto him, moaning very quickly.
“Acting all bossy.” He manages to get out as he moves down your body. “Do you know how fucking hot you look?.”
You look down when his mouth stops near your underwear. “Making me all fucking hard.”
Your chest is moving up and down, watching him suddenly palm his cock. He’s groaning loudly, you can feel his breath on your bare skin and it makes you shiver. He’s doing this on purpose, just because he’s a dom doesn’t mean he’s silent, ( he’s very vocal ) but this time he’s louder, more sloppy because he knows how much it turns you on.
“You like t-this huh? Yeah, you like s-seeing me stroke my fucking cock.” He says, grabbing onto your thighs.
Your underwear is soaked and he fucking loves the view. He’s tracing his thumb on the fabric and you’re squirming.
“Stay still.” He grabs your hip with his free hand and pulls you closer, making you straddle his stomach. He goes in to kiss you and you’re eagerly reaching for his dick but he grabs your hands instead. ( with one fucking hand, his hands are huge ) He’s shaking his head, “So needy, keep your hands up.”
You oblige, watching him grab onto your tits. “I want you to tell me what you want.” He says, “I want to hear it.”
You whine and try to speak out, “I want to..” He makes eye contact, slipping a hand into your underwear. “f-fuck! I want to....”
He stops, “You want to what beautiful?”
“I want to suck your d-dick.” You reply. “I need it, f-fuck.”
He smiles and laughs. “f-fucking hell, get down here.”
He’s sooo hard it’s insane, you’re kneeling on the carpet and he’s grabbing onto your face. He’s stroking his dick, pre-cum leaking out. “Open your m-”
You already have him deep in your mouth and he groans. His smile is the fucking best, slightly tightening his grip on your face. His eyes are rolling back and his glasses are already fogging up. He’s mumbling your name over and over again.
You can feel tears run down your face, taking him in deeper. You’re moaning onto his dick as he starts grunting loud. You go to take a breath and he’s taking a fist full of hair, making you look up to him. Your makeup is runny, mascara and eyeliner all over the place. “Fucking beautiful.” He grunts.
You go to take him again and this time he’s roughly thrusting into your mouth. His moans are sporadic, a mix of grunts and hisses. He’s watching you gag and he’s twitching in your mouth.
“G-God hell, yeah take that f-fucking cock. Good girl— good fucking girl.”
At this point he’s face fucking you, making you drool all over the carpet. He’s LOUD. Your moans are sending him over the edge as he comes all in your mouth. Shoving himself in your throat and holding it until he’s panting heavily.
“So good for me baby, fuck.” He says, moving your hair out of your face and wiping your makeup away.
kinda went of script… also sorry i haven’t been active, work has been insane. cooking up a full one-shot for you guys ;)
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shinobi-illuminator · 3 days ago
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Out of all the au kids for Arcane I made for fun, Asher has been the most talkative to me. Goofy, cocky, people pleaser, wants to help make big changes to the two cities. Despite wanting to join the counsel when he got older, Asher had always been an artist at heart. Stained Glass being his focus despite his young age.
The set up is Jayce and Mel tied the knot and Jayce appointed Viktor his best man for his wedding and godfather to his son. But on the day of the birth, Mel had hemorrhaged and was losing a lot of blood. She had only gotten to see and name her son briefly before going into shock. Her golden markings sparked before suddenly fading from her body. Then Asher's skin was glowing with these same golden birthmarks. She had passed her magic onto him and no one had known.
Jayce was heartbroken. He suffered emotional whiplash from having his happiest day suddenly turn into one of the worst days of his life. He was a wreck when trying to console his son. Viktor couldn't wait any longer in the waiting room and went in. He saw the sad sight and helped hold Asher with Jayce. Viktor never thought about having kids, but looking down at Asher made him feel this surge of love and protectiveness as if he was his son.
Viktor stuck around to help Jayce. They went over Mel's belongings and funeral arrangements together all the while trying to tackle the joys and struggles of fatherhood. Jayce loved his son to pieces, but he was still grieving for Mel. Viktor knew that and would try to take care of Asher when Jayce needed to rest and collect himself. Asher looked so much like his late mother. Sky became the unofficial auntie, she made sure Asher had plenty of blankets, toys, and food. She was willing to babysit him while they had to deal with their jobs at the lab and counsel. With Mel gone, Jayce became the head of the counsel and dealt with her estate. Viktor in the meantime knew deep down he wasn't going anywhere. After some time raising Asher together with Jayce he felt closer to him more than ever. He proposed to be his husband. In no time they were married, now with Sky as Asher's godmother.
Jayce was very loving to Asher but was also very protective of his little boy. The first time he brought him to see the Hexgates, Asher looked out and could see Zaun. He had never been there and had big dreams of making it better. He wanted to go there, but Jayce immediately shot that idea down. It was far too dangerous. But to Asher he saw it as Viktor's old home. He went to Viktor afterwards and asked if he could take him then. But Viktor also said no. Though Viktor had different views on Zaun, he knew it wouldn't be wise for Asher to go. But Asher pointed out Viktor wasn't dangerous, so it shouldn't be that bad. Viktor was touched by that statement, but still declined to take him there.
But being a curious boy, Asher HAD to go and see for himself. Against both father's wishes, he sneaked out. In his eyes, if he was gonna rule these people one day he should at least go there once. Sadly he didn't think anyone wanted to hurt him before he got abducted by a brace of drug goons. Just when Asher feared he made the worst mistake of his life Jayce burst in and slaughtered them with his hammer. Asher was traumatized, he knew he fucked up big time. People died, and his father was furious because of him. Jayce could see he was in shock and carried him back home across the bridge. Being paranoid, Jayce got into an argument with Viktor accusing him of putting ideas into his son's head insinuating he told him to go. Viktor did no such thing and tried to reason back, but Jayce wouldn't hear it. Asher could hear them fighting outside his room. Jayce then said something he came to regret.
"He's not your son, Viktor!"
Hearing that felt like a stab to the gut for Viktor, he couldn't even speak. Asher then charged in and shouted at them to stop fighting. He insisted it was his fault, not Viktor's-- not anybodies! He was a sobbing mess. He didn't want his father's to say such hateful things because of his own mistakes. Jayce saw he messed up too and tried to apologize. But Asher just clung onto Viktor brawling apology after apology to his second father. Viktor was touched and tried to calm him down. Asher promised he'd never ever go to Zaun again and was practically demanding them to punish him so long as they didn't fight. Jayce and Viktor exchanged glances. Despite Asher disobeying them they could see he was already punishing himself already as is. They let him off the hook so long as he didn't try and run away like that again. They let Asher sleep between them in bed, he was exhausted. Viktor was still hurt by Jayce, but he knew Jayce felt regretful for what he said. He'd forgive him... But it would take longer to forget what he said.
Over the course of several days Asher practically bent backwards trying to get things back to normal. Any opportunity he could find he'd try and make things feel romantic for Viktor and Jayce. Being a child, he had a very... naive idea to what went into love. But the two fathers were amused by his antics and had no choice but to fall back in love through it. Asher knew they loved each other and he was gonna be determined to keep them together.
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