#but also.... the pure and utter fucking mischief these guys could get into....

[northstarshine]

makokuu brainrot has entirely encapsulated my brain. i want to put them in a jar and shake them around. i need to dissect these guys and figure out just what the fuck is going on in those dumbass heads. they're so smart but also so stupid for each other. except makoto maybe. he's not that smart

simultaneously love and fucking despise them (positive)

i like imagining that makoto and kusuke are tangentially Aware of each other’s existence due to both being extremely famous people, but that neither care enough to actually look into who the other person is. so one day they meet at some event (maybe they’re giving kusuke a nobel peace prize and makoto is there for Reasons or something. or maybe kusuke is designing the pyrotechnics they’re using as special effects in makoto’s new movie) and get to talking and realize. oh my god. this is the most annoying, abrasive, creepy weirdo i’ve ever met. i hate this guy. then they go home to cyberstalk google each other and realize their siblings are friends and immediately begin having some of the craziest celebrity beef of all time. nobody can figure out why celebrated british scientist Dr. Kusuke Saiki is suddenly shit-talking japanese pop idol Mugami Toru to the press, and furthermore, why Mugami Toru seems to hate him just as much, if not more.

then one day, seemingly out of the blue, they get photographed kissing at a private expensive resort by paparazzi and the media lose it

[amusingmusie]

After seeing the non-canon demon interactions of Nel and Al in your god blessed writing. I can only imagine the mischief Nel would get up to after realising she can use Lucifer to her advance to get back at Al.

The chaos, I can see it now.

THIS IS FOR FUN ONLY AND NOT CANON TO YOURS TRULY

An Apple a Day

Lucifer motherfucking Morningstar is in the hotel. Nel is fighting not to stress smoke or shit her suit pants.

She cannot fuck up in front of this guy. Not fucking up is decently easy. She’s made plenty of mistakes- some of which landed her here in this inferno of eternal torment- but she’s also made plenty of sound choices, like huddling away in a corner of the lobby as she watches Lucifer occupy himself with rambling about the intricacies of crafting rubber ducks to his daughter and her girlfriend.

Because peace is never an option, a chill washes over her and static tingles dance on her skin- it's the only warning she receives of the incoming suffering.

Alastor materializes at her side with a crackling hum, one elbow propped up to rest on her head while the other grips his microphone. Nel doesn’t even flinch.

“Hello, my Negative Nelly! What are you doing skulking around this cobwebbed corner? You’re missing out on all of today’s grand fun!”

“The fun of you ribbing the big cheese of Hell, you mean,” she snaps, sticking out a finger to jab him in his ribs. “Cut that shit out. You’re playing with hellfire.”

Alastor drops into the floor before reforming on her opposite side, his other elbow weighing down on her skull.

“Jealous? Don’t be! My disdain for him could never compare to the special contempt we share.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“I speak from the heart.”

“You don’t have one.”

“Oh, my sweet, you wound me!”

His dramatics grate on the single nerve of Nel’s that his hoofed feet haven’t trampled already. At this rate, he threatens to draw attention to them, and by proxy her, and she is not going to have Lucifer associate her with the jackass like everyone else in this ratty hotel already does.

She’s going nuclear.

“Allie,” she coos, placing her hand over his upon his staff, “I heard all that mess earlier with you and Charlie. If you wanted to have a daughter so badly, all you ever had to do was ask me.” 

There’s a harsh, sharp pitch in radio waves while Alastor’s gray face twists into one of pure, utter, absolute mortification. The beanpole sinks down into his shadow on the musty carpet and darts away, becoming nothing more than a black mass fleeing to his radio tower.

Ah, she’s still got it. 

A very pleased snicker catches her attention, and she snaps her head to the side, coming face to face with the devil she’d been trying to avoid all day. Mortified, she stammers over herself, staring up at Lucifer who’s beaming so widely that his red cheeks are pressing upwards into his eyeballs.

“Oh Jesus Christ- shit, no, not him- Your Majesty, I am so sorry you had to see that. Look-”

He holds out one hand to silence her. Nel brushes aside the indignation of being told what to do by a man and falls silent. 

Then, he bends over and giggles.

“Are you kidding?” Lucifer wipes away a few tears threatening to fall down his rosy cheeks as he keels over cackling. “Oh, oh, oh! Woo! You! Ah, sweet Eden, that was incredible, phenomenal, fantastic! Way to stick it to that tacky piece of crap! Keep up the good work, uh-?”

“Penelope, sir. Or, uh, Nel. Nelly.”

“Keep up the good work, Nancy!” he chirps with a wink, clapping a hand onto her shoulder.

She blanches. “It’s Nelly.”

“That’s what I said! That’s what I said, right? What did I say?” 

Awkward tension settles between them. One of her yellow eyes twitches.

After the brief pause, a mischievous grin slithers onto the king’s bone white face. “Well, Mel, if you ever find yourself in need of some assistance with that halitosis-ridden bellhop, don’t be a stranger!”

“...You don’t say?”

“Mhm! Now..." he leans in close to her, deathly serious, and Nel begins to fear that she's done something terribly wrong. "How do you feel about rubber ducks?”

Oh. Huh.

Maybe she does have an ally here after all.

[emeraldiis]

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it. 

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment. 

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

 Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki. 

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life. 

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster. 

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

[thatasianstereotype]

Damn, You’re Looking Fine.

To my utter delight, my crack writing Fuck. I’m Gay. got a good reception. I was not expecting to write more for this AU/pairing. But why not? I got some ideas and a computer to write them down on.

So this fic is the took-a-while-to-put-together sequel. It’s focused on the downfall of one certain Liar-la, Damian wooing Adrien with all the flair and romantics as his Chaton deserves, and Adrien being a blushing hot gay mess. 

P.S. Damian’s formal way of talking is an utter pain to write but hilarious to read.

P.S.S. Creative liberties were taken. Again. I just feel this needs to be mentioned. 

.

.

.

So Status Update:

Adrien and Damian are definitely dating (It is totally official. Told you ya boi got game).

Adrien still calls him Hot-And-Sexy from time to time much to his utter mortification (He can’t make himself stop. Please send help). And Dami gets amused by it every single time, that arrogant smug jerk.

Marinette still puts the fear of god in Damian and he is wary of her. She feels very proud about that. Adrien wants to facepalm.

Fuck Gabriel Agreste.  

And Lila Rossi is still a bitch.  

Adrien and Marinette were made aware about Damian’s alter ego —well mostly because he is utterly terrified of Marinette’s seemingly sweet (icy) smile she gave him when she politely asked how he obtained the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous and partly because of Adrien’s pouting kitten eyes. 

They truly were a pair to reckon with. 

.

“I am not sure why the Justice League dismissed your concerns and pleas for assistance. So I am taking the initiative. My name is Damian Wayne, the son of Batman and the current Robin and leader of the Teen Titans.”

He’s a superhero too?! And it’s Robin!!! One of his favorites!! Can you hear him internally squealing in excitement?

Adrien bit his lip to keep from fanboying right then and there. But a slight pink hue spread across his face. 

“You’re not lying.” Mari has gotten pretty good at deciphering through people’s bullshit. Whether it’s because she is now a Guardian or because Lila’s bitchiness made her a human lie-detector remains unknown.

Damian took it in stride. “I am not.”

“Paris is still our city.”

“I am only offering my assistance.” He won’t barge in on their superhero duties to the city. He has more class than that.

Mari didn’t have to look at Adrien to know his decision.

She smiled, a bright genuine smile. “Then we’re allies.” Before her eyes gained a spark of mischief and her smile turned teasing. “Hot-And-Sexy.” 

“Marinette!” Adrien immediately covered his blushing bright red face with both hands, utterly mortified. 

His sister was evil. E. V. I. L. And why is Damian smirking and looking so smug? Fuck! He even makes that look completely hot. Curse his Adonis genes. And curse his teenage hormones. 

He regrets introducing the two of them together. What a pair they make. Truly a couple of fur-midable terrors here. 

.

Back to the matter at hand, Marinette is able to ensure that Hawk Moth and Mayura will never be out again and another akuma won’t be made. She already made sure that the miraculous were better protected. 

Damian has enough evidence to put them behind bars for their crimes but Marinette wanted to go through it and make sure that Adrien won’t suffer the repercussions of having a villain for a dad so they held onto it until they figure out how best to protect their sunshine. 

.

Ah Shit. 

“Duusu? Where are you?” 

Did Gabriel lose the miraculous again? 

But when he looked into the last place he left it, he groaned. Fuck. His brooch was a fake again.

He knew he shouldn’t have made a miraculous fashion line and had replicas of the miraculous jewelries made. It was his most popular items to date. He has gotten lot of praises for getting the details just right and capturing the essence of each miraculous holder. No surprise there. He deals with them on a daily basis. He should get the details fucking right. 

It’s a wonder he only came up with a line because there was talk that he was becoming obsolete with no new ideas coming forth and if there is one thing that Gabriel Agreste isn’t, it is being obsolete. 

The line was just a joke, a parody of the heroes and villains if you will, but apparently people like it. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most popular obviously (he should’ve seen that coming to be honest). Hardly anyone buys Hawk Moth or Mayura and he is left with boxes of fake brooches. 

It is annoying.

Especially since he keeps fucking misplacing his miraculous. 

.

Adrien felt like he could be a Disney princess and just skip his way to school and sing for the world to hear. 

Now that the Butterfly miraculous were safely with Marinette, he doesn’t have to worry about another akuma. He could just die happy right now. His dad doesn’t have a hold over him anymore. He doesn’t have to put up with Liar-la anymore. But if they put up a fuss? Well, worst case scenario is he becomes a Dupain-Cheng. 

And he doesn’t mind. He’s already an honorary one. 

And if that somehow doesn’t work out (which he highly doubts), Damian offered to make him a Wayne. 

.

Françoise Dupont High School experienced a shock that morning. Specifically Ms. Bustier’s class. 

When they saw Adrien and Marinette walking in class with arms intertwined, laughing and smiling together. 

What the actual fuck?

Did they cross into an alternate universe? Marinette is a nasty bully and Adrien’s a pure sunshine child. Why would they be acting like they were the best of friends? 

Lila glowered darkly when she saw them walking towards the back and sitting at the same table. Didn’t Adrien care about what his father thinks? Doesn’t he want to still be able to go to school? 

She bit her lip and turned on the waterworks, her eyes close to bursting into tears. She made herself be the very picture of a pitiful woe-is-me victim as she cried out in a hurtful and betrayed tone. “Adrien, what are you doing with her? I thought we were close friends.” 

The sheep class instantly catered to Lila, pointing their fingers at the pair. 

Alya, her biggest supporter, led the charge as always. “Adrien! What do you have to say for yourself? How could you cheat on Lila like this? And with her?” 

Adrien narrowed his eyes at his former friend. Bitch, how dare she implies he was in an actual relationship and had feelings for that harlot. 

Wow. 

He has been spending way too much time around Damian. 

"Yeah, bro!” Kim said, raising his voice. “How could you do her dirty?” 

“Okay guys.” Adrien cut in. “I don’t know where you heard that but me and Lila are not dating. Like at all.” 

“Please.”Alya waved him off like he didn’t know what he was talking about (he was highly offended at the notion he didn’t know what his heart yearns for). “We all know you have feelings for Lila. You’re just in denial over them.”

Bitch, what?

Is no one catching onto his chaotic gay vibes here?  

And oh, how his fragile little heart was betrayed yet again when he saw Nino supporting his girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe the first friend he made all by himself was a part of their rabid pack. He deeply mourned the loss of such a great friend in the midst of that deceiving fox’s claws. 

“How many times do I need to say it?” At this point, Adrien was about to throw hands. “I don’t like Lila like that. I feel nothing but pure spite for her. Also, me and Marinette are not dating if anyone’s wondering. We’re just really good friends.”

“But Marinette’s a big bully.” Alix piped up, a hard edge in her voice. “She treats Lila horribly.”

“Marinette didn’t do anything to her. Rossi is lying.” 

“Oh Adrien.” It was Mylene of all people who spoke up. “Did Marinette get to you with her lies?” 

He was done. 

Completely and utterly done. 

He looked over at Marinette who shared his exasperation at the class’ antics. 

Adrien already said it before. But it bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily), that was the moment Ms. Bustier chose to step in the room and class started. 

When the teacher’s back was turned, Adrien pulled out his phone and proceeded to spend the rest of the time alternating between taking notes and texting with Damian. 

They were currently at the stage of their relationship to be sending animal pics and memes back and forth, with a few puns added from time to time. 

He really does have the perfect boyfriend. 

.

They cornered him after school. 

One: Rude. 

And two: Double rude. 

He was excited to meet Hot-And-Sexy (daMn iT! It’s Damian! Get it right brain) at the bakery and spending time with his two most favorite people in the world (Tom and Sabine don’t count because actual parents don’t have a ranking). 

His former friends were looking all concerned and everything because they somehow collectively came up with the idea that Marinette actually brainwashed him to believe Lila was evil. 

The fucking irony. 

They actually had the audacity to say that Marinette —sweet and honestly badass Marinette— was no good and just wanted to use Adrien to get ahead in the fashion industry (as if Mari actually needed him for that). He shouldn’t be around her. Lila was a much better person to keep as company. 

Adrien laughed in their faces and left. 

.

Onto happier events, Adrien was having a blast hanging out with Mari and Dami. His boyfriend (he still can’t believe he managed to score such a hottie!) fit right in the everything-that-matters siblings’ dynamics. 

They were in Mari’s room. Adrien was cuddling with Damian on her bed. And Mari was at her desk working on fashion designs. 

“So what’s your family like?” He played with Dami’s hair. It was so soft. Like what the fuck. It is so unfair. 

Damian thought about it for a few seconds. “My family is a bit...crazy. We drive each other insane every other day but at the end of the day, I have no doubt they have my back as I have theirs.” 

“You guys sound close.” 

“We were not always. We had an extensive amount of issues to work through before we actually bonded as a true family.” 

It was quiet for a minute until Damian casually said. “I would appreciate it a great deal if you can make time to visit Gotham for the summer.” 

Adrien stopped playing with his hair to look at him with wide incredulous eyes. “Summer’s only two months away.” 

“I am aware.” 

“You really want me to meet them? Isn’t it too early?” 

“I met yours the day we started dating.” 

True but....

Adrien averted his eyes. “Do you think your family will like me? You guys fight criminals and my dad’s a villain.” 

Damian put his hands over Adrien’s and gave them a light squeeze, making his Chaton look back at him. 

“My mother is a villain and I was raised as an assassin. Yet despite of that, my father accepted me. And I am fairly confident he will do the same to you. Mon amour, you have a pure and selfless heart. You are a better person than I am. I have no doubt that my family will love you from the start. 

“Are you being fur real right meow?” Adrien tried to lighten the atmosphere but he could feel his eyes tearing up. 

"I wouldn’t lie to mew.” 

He let out a small laugh, wiping his eyes. How did he ever get so lucky to land such an amazing guy? “You always know the purr-fect thing to say.” 

“We get it you’re in love. It’s amazing. Now stop it with the puns.” Mari rolled her eyes, utterly exasperated at these idiots who just ignored her and pulled out even more cat puns. “You have got to be kitten me.” 

Before she noticed what she said and groaned in faux despair. “Oh you two are so dead.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue playfully. “You can’t catch me. I got a handsome knight in shining armor to protect me.” 

Damian interlaced their fingers. “Always, mon amour. I’ll protect you from everything like your wicked father.”

“Does that make me the dragon here?” Mari joined in. “Cool. I can breathe fire and torch people. Too bad I can’t do that to a certain liar.” 

“Liar-la is totally the witch here.” Adrien said before thinking for a few seconds. “Does this make me the princess?” 

“Well, knights always have to save the damsel in distress.” Mari said. 

He frowned before crossing his arms indignantly. “Dami, I love you more than Plagg loves his stinky cheese, but I’m no damsel in distress.” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Tt. Of course not. You can destroy things with a single touch. It would be not be in my best interests to downplay your abilities.”

Adrien relaxed and beamed a sunny smile. “Good. Remember that.” 

“Mon amour, I look for an equal as a partner, not some weak spoiled harlot that can not defend their self.” Damian placed a flower crown (that was just sitting on Marinette’s nightstand, must be one of her projects) on Adrien’s head. “Having said that I do believe you are a prince that deserves all the love and care in the world.” 

And oh my. 

Adrien can feel his face burning scarlet and his heart almost bursting at how sweet this incredible, conceited Adonis was. 

He was falling in love with Damian over and over again each time they meet up. 

“You deserve love too, Dami.” 

And sweet, caring Hot-And-Sexy (Ah, fuck it. He will never grow out of that) placed a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Oh dear, he didn’t know his face can burned any redder. 

He could almost hear Mari cooing in the background. 

And in case anyone was wondering, Tom and Sabine adores their everything-that-actually-matters son’s boyfriend. Damian Wayne seems like a responsible young lad. And he makes Adrien really happy which is a major plus. Anything that makes their son happy is good in their books. 

.

Lila was not at all pleased. 

Why was Adrien suddenly hanging out with Marinette? Yeah, he doesn’t buy into her lies but she was confident he will be lured into her charms. Why wouldn’t he be? She was young and way more beautiful than a baker’s daughter. He was supposed to be hers. 

She and Gabriel are going to have a talk about his rebellious son. 

Except when she arrived at the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was apparently too busy to see her. 

He was too occupied with searching through boxes of fake miraculous to find Duusu to bother with her. 

“I don’t have time for you.” 

“Excuse me?!” 

She was aghast. How dare he speak this way to his biggest supporter —well, besides Mayura and Nathalie. 

“You’re excused. Now leave the premises.”

Before the door shut in her face and she was left fuming, her face an unflattering angry red. 

.

Being Damian’s boyfriend, Adrien has come to learn that Damian does nothing by halves. Including asking him out on a date. And the actual dates themselves. 

Today as the sun fell down and night came about, Damian and Adrien were taking a stroll in the park. It was relaxing and it was nice. They talked about everything and anything. 

Adrien did not think Damian planned anything more. 

But he really shouldn’t underestimate the son of Batman. 

Because when the last of the sun’s rays were gone, Damian led him to a gazebo strung up with beautiful lights giving the whole place an ethereal feel. And with the bright moon out tonight, it looked like fairies dancing in the garden. 

He didn’t notice Damian pressed play on his phone and classical music filled the air. 

He definitely noticed Damian bowing with a flourished and holding out his hand with a charming smile. “May I have this dance, Chaton?”

Adrien would have to be a huge fool to say no. 

“I’ll loved to.” He placed his hand in Damian’s and let the Adonis lead him in a simple waltz. 

This was his life. 

His life was one big sappy romance novel. And you know what, he doesn’t care if it is. Between dealing with his shitty father and Liar-la, this kitty deserves some happiness. 

.

It was a scene from one of those Disney fairy tale movies Adrien used to watch as kid. The magic. The love. The romantics. He felt like Cinderella and wished this night will never end, that the clock will never strike midnight. He just wanted to stay in his Prince Charming’s arms forever. 

Under the starry night sky, the lovebirds danced to their heart’s content and when another song ended, Damian tilted his head down to place a tender kiss on Adrien’s lips. 

“I harbor a great deal of non-platonic affections for you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, Hot-And-Sexy.” 

.

What the fuck?!

Seriously. 

What the actual fuck? 

Lila was simply walking home after her disastrous meeting with Gabriel (She was still not over how he simply dismissed her like she was nothing. How dare he). 

When she saw them. 

Adrien and some guy (she’s pretty sure that was a guy) dancing in the park. She can feel that disgusting jealousy just burning in her veins, a cold anger thrumming underneath. 

Things were not at all going her way. 

First, Adrien is back to being friends with that Mari-whore. Then, Gabriel ignores her. Her. And now, she is seeing her Adrien in the arms of someone else. 

Oh this will just not do. 

She took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a couple of pictures, making sure Adrien can clearly be seen. She didn’t care too much about the other guy. He’s probably just another pretty airhead Adrien knew through his father. He’s not important. 

A cruel smirk appeared on her face at the thought of the perfect revenge. Adrien was going to have a rough time at school tomorrow. After all, he should’ve known better than to make a move against her. 

.

“Seriously?!”

“Wow.” 

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

“Yeah. Adrien is obviously gay. That’s the only explanation.” 

“....Maybe not? There could be another reason.”

Lila had watery eyes and a sad frown on her face but inside, she was fucking smiling like a Cheshire cat. She made sure to be at school early so she can show the class the picture of Adrien’s little date last night. Who —predictably— were shocked at their sunshine child being with a guy and made plans to confront him about his supposed sexuality. 

She glowed at the thought of her plan working. This will teach Adrien to know his place or become a social pariah like his little friend Marinette. 

“I thought Adrien had feelings for me.” Lila wiped the “tears” from her eyes. “How could he lead me on like this when he’s been gay all along?” 

Alya —predictably— comforted her. “I’m pretty sure he’s just confused. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling.”

“I’m sure that’s it.” 

The pair didn’t notice Juleka and Rose glaring at them. 

.

Damian was not at all pleased. 

He was rightfully angry. 

How dare that poor sense of fashion taste trollop tried to shame his mon amour for being gay. How dare she try to say he was simply confused and didn’t know any better. How dare she defame his reputation because he holds nothing but spite for her person. 

How dare she. 

As Adrien’s boyfriend and future husband, it is his duty to correct this travesty and defend his Chaton’s honor. 

.

When the Damian Wayne, youngest son of Bruce Wayne, appeared at Françoise Dupont High School, you know that people are gonna stare and talk. 

When he headed towards the courtyard where Adrien and Marinette were sitting at, boy are things going to get juicy. 

Lila and her followers who were sitting a bit father from the outcast pair were utterly confused. They could possibly get Adrien knowing such a super hot celebrity but for him to be on good terms with Marinette too? How inconceivable. Absolutely flabbergasted. 

“Hey Lila didn’t you tell us you knew him and his family?” Max brought up. 

“Uhhh....” Lila knew she dug herself in a corner here. She never thought that the Damian Wayne would ever visit here. At this second rate school. 

“Well, let’s go, girl!” Alya exclaimed. “I’m sure Damian just hasn’t seen you. That’s why he didn’t walk towards you.”

Before proceeding to practically drag Lila to where Damian was talking with Adrien and Marinette. 

Lila, on the other hand, was cursing out Alya in a bunch of different languages in her mind while trying to come up with something to dig herself out of this mess. If they talk to Wayne, the class will realize she was lying all along. 

She was not going to lose control of her kingdom like this —well, not without putting up a fight. 

But when they and the rest of their classmates walked close to the trio, they were shocked when they saw Marinette playfully punching Damian in the arm. 

“Okay. How the hell are you so close with Damian Wayne?” Straight off the bat, Alya was on the offense as she glared at Marinette as if it was Mari who did something wrong. 

Damian answered before the bluenette could. His face was impassive and his glare cold. “I’m Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s top model for her fashion business.”

What? 

Even Lila was taken aback at the news. She knew that goody two shoes likes designing but she didn’t think anybody would actual buy her stuff. She didn’t think a Wayne would like her stuff. 

She could feel her fists clenched. How dare Marinette steal the spotlight again. 

“I’m also Adrien’s boyfriend.” Damian continued casually as if that wasn’t a huge bombshell. 

Everyone’s minds screeched to a halt. 

They knew about the possibility of Adrien being gay since Lila showed him on going on a date with an unidentified but clearly male person yesterday. But they didn’t think there was actually something there. 

Lila could feel her anger clouding her mind. Adrien was supposed to be hers. He was her ticket to fame and fortune. 

“And what about Lila? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Alya put her hands on her hips. How could Damian just ignore someone he is close friends with but give Marinette all the attention? Lila deserves better than that.  

Damian was unamused. “I don’t know her.”

“Yeah, you do.” Alya ignored Lila’s gestures to stop talking. Lila was too shy about her achievements and she was going to have her amazing best friend’s back. “She’s the one who helped your family out multiple times.”

“She did not. And I am appalled that you believe I would know a harlot like her in the first place.” Damian’s face twisted with disgust as he glanced at Liar-la like she was a mere insect. “Please. I have class and dignity.”

“Take that back!” She screeched. “You are so rude.” 

“Are you honestly going to lecture me on my rudeness when you plebians are being hypocrites?”

“What? I’m not a hyprocrite.” 

“Lila Rossi is a pathetic liar who begs for attention like street dogs beg for scraps. She never once saved Jagged’s cat nor does she help out with green charities. Lastly, she is not on close terms with myself nor with my family.”

“No! You’re lying!”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Ok then. Look her up on the internet. If she is as grand as you lot seem to think, she should have articles dedicated to her. Show me proof of her actions that isn’t your subpar blog and I will give you an exclusive.” 

Alya’s eyes gleamed at what should be an easy challenge. But when she pulled out her phone and typed Lila’s name and what she did in the search engine, her smile disappeared. 

She spent the next few minutes scouring the net for anything, any mention of a Lila Rossi that wasn’t on the LadyBlog. 

She found nothing. 

Lila Rossi was a fucking liar all along. And Alya and the rest of the class believed her. 

“We tried to warn you.” Marinette said in a soft voice. But anyone who knew her knew she was trying to hold back her laughter. 

“Marinette,” Rose cried out as she realized the class has been total jerks to the one person who always had their backs. “We were horribly wrong. Can you ever forgive us?”

She shrugged. “I forgive you. But this doesn’t mean we’re friends again. Because we’re not. Seeing how easily you drop me for that liar without even looking for any kind of proof hurts and I’m not eager to be friends again. Maybe in the future but not right now.”

“That’s goes ditto for me.” Adrien added his two cents. 

Their former friends classmates wore gloomy expressions, utterly devastated at ruining their friendship with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child. 

And with that, Adrien and Marinette left the courtyard, with light hearts and heads held high. 

Damian shot the class a razor sharp grin. “Well, it’s been nice to meet you.” 

Everyone knew he meant anything but. 

“I always knew teenagers were prone to be foolish imbeciles. But seeing the collective stupidity of you people today made me realize that the bar can in fact be lowered.” 

.

Adrien was fucking ecstatic. 

Elated. Overjoyed. Jubilant. Drunk on happiness. All the synonyms associated. 

Because Lila was finally exposed. The class realized what utter assholes they have been. His father will receive his due (soon according to Mari and Dami). 

He was happily humming a tune as he swung his and Damian’s intertwined hands back and forth. 

He was entirely grateful that Damian showed up to school today. Although he was a bit mean for Adrien’s taste. 

But oh man. Payback was so sweet. 

He smiled giddily. 

Mister Hot-And-Sexy definitely earned himself a kiss. 

Previous

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[jawritter]

Request: May I request a Dean Winchester x plus size reader where the reader is very shy and she at a bar and some dirt bags are picking on her about her shortness and weight and dean stands up for her? Some smut and fluff ?? Also want to say you are a bop of a writer my love! ✨💕🥰❤️

Word Count: 2961

Warnings: Some angst I guess, language, hint of insecure reader, mean drunks at bar, SMUT, unprotected smut, oral (female receiving), I think that’s about it...

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

**MASTERLIST**

You had no idea why you agreed to come out again with Dean and Sam tonight.

It was always the same.... 

Dean would find him a little whore to spend his night with, and Sam would either find himself something to blow off some steam with, or sit at his laptop looking for another case to keep them busy with, because you all seemed addicted to the hunt as much as the next guy, and you were all at your best when you were killing things that shouldn't be allowed to exist. And you would sit alone at the bar, miserable, and avoiding other human contact as much  as possible.

It's what you expected anyway.

So when Dean threw baby into park you were out of the car, and heading into the bar without so much as looking at the brothers. Heading straight for the bar to order the strongest whatever they had. 

If you had to go home alone tonight, you'd at least get drunk enough to sleep without the nightmares.

To your surprise though Dean came, and slipped onto the barstool next to you, ordering a shot and a beer for the both of you before you could even get the bartender's attention. You looked at him strangely, and he caught it before you could even fix your face.

"What?" He asked you, as he threw back the shot the bartender slipped to him. Green eyes dancing with mischief as he looked at you.

"You're not going to start looking for tonight's lucky lady?" You asked him, and he chuckled a little next to you. 

"Na, not tonight." He said, brushing off your concern as he pulled his beer bottle to his perfect lips, and took a long deep drink.

"Think I'd rather hang out with you." He said, giving you a wink that, even though you'd never admit to anyone, made your knees weak. 

Dean had always had a soft spot in your heart, but you were too shy to ever admit to him that you had a crush on him, and plus he was way out of your league.

He was tall, strong, and gorgeous.

You were overweight, with more than a few extra pounds in places that made you feel self conscious on your best day, and to top it off you were short. Barely breaking 4'9. 

Sam often teased you that you still legally should be riding in a car seat. 

Dean never really teased you all that much about your height or your weight, sure he still teased you, but he had enough common sense to know what seemed to get under your skin, and he respectfully avoided any topic that made you uncomfortable.

Dean had just ordered the drinks when two guys came up, and sat down on the oposite side of you, The large, stupid, and obviously drunk one that smelled strongly of whiskey leered at you like your very presents disgusted him to his utter core. 

"Hey Roy?" The large smelly guy that honestly looked like his name could have been Lurch said to the much smaller guy that was just as drunk, maybe more so than he was sitting beside him. "When the fuck did they start letting whales into the bar? This one looks like she should be in a display take at the aquarium. Better call PETA and tell them they're missing their prized whale!" Lurch slurred, and Roy burst into a fit of laughter. 

You tried to make yourself as small as you could on your stool, trying to not even look at these two dirt bags that seemed to be sent by Crowley himself to torment you, Dean hadn't heard them because the music was so loud, and he was busy paying for your drinks, but when he turned he noticed the red sheen of your checks and furrowed his eyebrows at you questioningly. 

"What's wrong Y/N/N?" He asks, handing you a beer, and turning to face you fully.

He didn't have long to be confused, because before you could even answer Lurch spoke up again.

"Oh don't tell me you're trying to get with him Shammo, he's way out of your league!" Roy fell into another fit of laughter, and you looked down at your beer bottle, a tear slipping past your defenses in spite of yourself. 

Dean said nothing just got up from his bar stool and went over to stand in front of Lurch, a look of pure murder on his face, one that reminded you of his Demon days when Sam had dragged him back into the bunker and cured him.

"What's wrong pretty boy?" Lurch said, and that was all it took. Dean swung, landing a hit right to his jaw, knocking him cold off of the bar stool. 

Roy took off running towards the exit as fast as he could. Leaving his fat, smelly friend on the ground in front of Dean. 

Dean turned around to you, cupping your face in his hands, and looking you over. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks you, genuinely concerned. 

You were humiliated, embarrassed, and you could literally feel the whole bar staring at the three of you, seeing as Sam joined Dean on his left side, taking a look at Lurch still laying on the ground groaning.

"I'm fine Dean." You said, trying to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you, instead he laced your hand in his, gave Lurch there another kick with his steel toe boot clad foot, started toward the exit with you in tow,  Sam said nothing, just followed along like this was nothing, but a normal Saturday night for Dean.

Dean opened the back seat door for you, and you climbed in. Grateful to be away from those two idiots, and that grimmy ass bar that seemed to be full of douchebags, Sam got in along with Dean, and the three of you made a short, but silent drive back to the bunker. 

You felt horrible. You felt bad that you were the reason Dean caused a scene at the bar, you felt bad that Sam and Dean didn't get to blow off steam like they had wanted to after a long hunt, and you felt bad that once again, you didn't seem to measure up enough. 

Lurch wasn't wrong. You have always been a little overweight, shy, and you are definitely short. That was just stating the obvious. Even though it did bother you, what bothered you even more than that was he was right about one thing for sure. Dean was out of your league, and even an idiot like that could tell it.

You did everything you could not to burst into tears in the back seat of the car, and ignoring the pair of green eyes that were shifting constantly from the road to the back seat, and when mercifully Dean pulled up into the Bunker's garage, you were out of the car before he could even put it in park and heading towards your room. 

You couldn't face Dean, and you didn't feel like an awkward 'chin up' talk from Sam that he would try to do. You just wanted to go to your room and cry.

Alone....

Which is apparently all you would ever be...

Alone....

You weren't in your room long before a light knock sounded through the mostly quiet room.

"Sweetheart? Can I come in?" Dean said softly. When you didn't answer him, and just continued to stare at the wall he let himself in, closing your door behind him. Slipping on the bed behind you, the bed dipping under his weight slightly.

You thought if you just ignored him he'd go away, but Dean was persistent, and your silence only made him more persistent. So he slipped under the covers behind you, and like he had every right to be there, slipping his arm around you, pulling your back to his strong chest. 

"Don't worry about what those dicks said y/n/n. Those drunk ass wipes wouldn't know what a real woman was if one walked up, and slapped them in the face." Dean said, running his fingers through your hair. 

Dean had never been this close to you before. Usually he would just knock at your door and tell you that dinner was ready, or that they had another case. Every once in a while he would ask you come watch a movie in the Dean cave with him, but never had he been this....intimate... with you, and it had your heart fluttering in your chest in spite of the tears that you were trying to wipe away from your face before Dean could see them.

"It's okay Dean," You said, ignoring the way you hated your voice after you'd been crying. "It's not like I'm not used to it. Men do that shit to me all the time, always have, that's why I don't go out with you guys very often, and it's not like what he said wasn't true." 

Dean huffed in frustration, wrapping his arm around you tighter, and then flipping you over quickly to face him as if you weighed nothing at all. Surprising you for a moment. His piercing green eyes stared into yours. Softer than you had ever seen them. Those little lines that you loved so much showing more today than they usually did.

"Baby girl NOTHING those dicks said at that bar was true, Sam told me he heard what they said to you, and was making his way over there when I turned around and noticed them. Your are not fat, you don't belong in an aquarium, those idiots were just pissed because they thought that you were with me, and some people are just so fucking misserable with their own lives that they try and do everything that they can in order to make everyone else as misserable as they are."

Dean brushed your check with his thumb. Wiping away stray tears that were still falling down your face.

"Your beautiful, your smart, you funny, you put up with our shit like no one else has even been able to before, you are not fat, your perfect, your a woman, your curves make you even more beautiful, just because your short doesn't mean shit. You could still kick my ass if you wanted to, and I've seen you take out freaks twice your size." Leaning down before you could say anything else Dean brushed his lips softly over yours, before capturing your lips in his, his mouth dominating yours quickly, his tongue sliding through your lips and gliding over your tongue in a slow but building give and take that had your toes curling. His strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him, rolling you over as if it were nothing, hovering on top of you.  Breaking the kiss and leaving you breathless.

"Dean.."

"Shush." He said, putting a finger to your lips. Let me show you just how fucking gorgeous you are to me.

You sat there in wide eyed in disbelief at the man smirking above you as he sat up just long enough to rid himself of his top layers of clothing, then quickly coming back down to hover over you. Placing chaste kissing to your lips and all over your face. Making you giggle and blush all at the same time.

Dean's lips found yours in a deep, needy, passionate kiss, as his hands explored your body, riding you of your clothing as he went. Only breaking the kiss long enough to pull your shirt from your body, and throw it on the floor with all the rest of your clothes. Leaving you in just your bra, which he made quick work of getting rid of. 

Every little touch, every little trail his fingers made over your skin seemed to wake up something deep inside of you that you had never experienced before. A need, a burning fire, one that started as a smolder, but was quickly bringing to burn out of control.

The way his tongue danced with yours, the way his hands lingered on your thighs longer than most men you had been with ever did. The way he worshiped your body, trailing kisses over your stomach and between the valley of your beast. Teasing you as before finally coming up to take your nipples into his mouth, giving each the same attention until you were arching your back to get close to him. His hands never left your body.

All the insecurities, and the mean words you had heard all your life seemed to finally be melting away. Dean treated you like you were some precious treasure to him. He never said anything about your thighs being too thick, or your stomach not being flat and perfect.

His green eyes were hooded and dark with lust like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

Sliding down your body, never making eye contact with you, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders he all but growled at your glistening folds exposed to him. 

"So fucking perfect baby." He said, his voice deep and thick, making a deep shutter run down your spin before he ran his tongue through your slick folds. A deep moan fell from your lips as he growled deep in his throat. 

"Fuck sweetheart." He said, before devowering your sex like a starving man having his last mean, and God did the man know what the fuck he was doing. Most men didn't bother to go down on you, they were only worried about getting themselves off and leaving, Dean though, Dean seemed intent on making you cum before he even got started.

Your legs trembling at every lick and suck of his sinful mouth hand you all but panting above him. That familiar burn building in your abdomen. The coil threatened to snap, and when he added two thick fingers into you and curled them, hitting that spot most men never found perfectly, that was it. You fell apart around him. Your walls clinch down on his fingers. 

Dean slowed his administrations, but didn't stop. Working you through your release and lapping up everything you had to give him.

When  Dean finally crawled up your body and hovered over you, his thick leaking erection lay heavy against your inner thigh as he rutted himself against you, desperately needing some sort of friction.

"You okay baby girl." He asked, and you nodded before he began peppering your face with little kisses before his lips found yours again. When he was sure you were ready and your hands started to explore his large shoulders and back he made himself ready at your dripping entrance.  Sliding himself in slowly. Stretching you and filling with inch by glorious inch. When he was finally fully seated inside your tight heat he burned his head in your shoulder, kissing your neck and nibbling on your skin there, making your walls clench around him and he hadn't even started moving yet. 

A deep moan falling from his lips as your walls fluttered around him. He stayed still until you rolled your hips against him. Letting him know  you were ready for him to move. 

Pulling himself almost all the way out of you before sliding back in. Setting a deep steady rhythm. His tip hitting that same spot deep inside of you over and over again, and the drag of his manhood over your silk walls had both of you barrelling towards your end before you knew what was happening. Every time he was fully seated inside you a deep moan would fall from his lips. Sweat shining on skin in the dim light of your room as you held onto his shoulders, his body rocking into yours at the same slow, but deep pace. 

You could feel that familiar coil tightening again, and your walls were already fluttering around him. Dean seemed to be just as close as you, his hips beginning to stutter and his pace getting faster and more erratic.

His lips found yours again as he stilled deep inside of you, his warm seed coating your walls, throwing you over the edge with him, your walls clamping down around him as he swallowed your moans, slowly rocking his hips into yours, helping you both ride out your orgasms as long as possible until he finally stopped. Rolling off of you carefully,  and pulling you into his chest. His breaths still came in short bursts as his lips found the top of your forehead.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that." He said, his voice quiet and ragged from your previous activities.

You buried your face in his neck, not knowing what to say until he lifted your chin with his fingers again.

"Now I don't want my girl to ever get upset over what some dick bag says at a bar because he's never had a real woman in his life and doesn't get to see what I see. Your beautiful Y/N/N, and now your mine, there's not getting rid of me. I'm going to spend the rest of our lives, no matter how short they may be, showing you everyday just how gorgeous you really are." 

His lips found yours again in a kiss that made your toes curl, and his arms tightened their hold around you. 

You were his, something you never thought you would be, but yet here you were, safe and warm in his strong arms. 'His girl' as he kept calling you, telling you over and over again how beautiful you were, until you maybe, just maybe started to believe him yourself.....

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[thearvariblues]

The Real Loki Always Chokes Me

Sooo... I might have actually written a fic for @zombieporno​‘s prompt from... last week, I guess. Except that my brain only managed the first part, since I don't have the patience for the asshole avoiding Tony. Bear with me, writing this took me a week. :D I might write an alternate version of this when he does avoid him, though - when I find my patience again, and maybe stop spending my evenings playing Witcher 3 instead of writing. :D

But until then... enjoy this, I guess?

*

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark didn’t really enjoy being a superhero. Well, yes, he enjoyed some parts of it, but others he kind of hated.

Like being dragged out of his workshop (when he was getting so fucking close to finding the solution for the problem that had been on his mind for two weeks now) by yet another attempt at world domination.

Though, to be fair, their current opponent wasn’t really trying to sit on the ruler-of-the-whole-world’s throne anymore. He was more or less just being an annoying piece of shit, probably just wanting to have some fun while he was stuck here in ‘Midgard’ as he insisted on calling it.

It was Loki, of course.

For the past five months, it had always been Loki. Almost as if he had bribed all the other villains not to attack.

Since his ‘having fun’ mostly consisted of robbing quite a few banks by teleporting in and out of them, he very well might have had. The guy would soon get richer than Tony himself.

“So what’s our drama queen done this time?” Tony asked as they took off in the quinjet. “Please don’t tell me it’s a dildo rain again.”

“I’ve told you a million times, we don’t call it a dildo rain,” Steve growled.

“It was literally raining dildos, Cap, what do you want to call it?” Clint smirked.

“I… I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter. It’s not dildo rain today, so could we just stop talking about it?”

“Sounds like someone should have stolen one of those dildos and taken it home,” Natasha chuckled. “Like Tony did.”

“Like Tony what?!” Bruce blinked.

“What?” Tony shrugged. “Purely technically, Loki stole my credit card and used it to pay for all those… toys.”

“It’s worse somehow when you call them toys instead of dildos,” Steve sighed.

“Yeah, well. They were paid for with my money. So they were mine, weren’t they? I could have taken all of them instead of like… five most interesting.”

“My brother would be delighted to hear someone takes pleasure in his mischief,” Thor commented.

“Oh, yes. Lots and lots of pleasure.”

“Guys. Stop,” Bruce said, clearly fighting a chuckle. “I think Cap’s about to start crying…”

*

It really wasn’t a dildo rain this time. It was more of a… Loki rain. Or a Loki avalanche.

It was a few hundreds of perfect clones of Loki annoying the living daylights out of everyone they could find. They disappeared upon being touched, yes, but they were also extremely good at avoiding being touched in the first place.

As the team found out when Hulk ran straight through three of the clones and into the building behind them. This incident made Tony stop trying to assess the damage and give JARVIS an instruction to just pay for everything the idiots manage to destroy while ‘saving the world’.

Then he proceeded to turn off his comm, fly up to the roof of the nearest high building and just watch the spectacle underneath. Cap would give him hell for that, he was sure, but he kind of didn’t care.

“And what in Hel’s name are you doing here?” asked a growling voice just a few seconds after he had landed.

Tony turned around, let his helmet fold down and cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, look, a clone Loki. Hey. How you doing?”

The Loki in front of him frowned, tilting his head.

“You’re supposed to be fighting the clones.”

“Nah. Too boring,” Tony shrugged. “You make Loki disappear. Turn around, another Loki. And look, another. Loki, Loki, Loki.”

“That’s the point,” the clone hissed.

“Yeah, I got that much. But hey, look, even though you’re all hot as fuck, the battle isn’t particularly amusing, you know?”

Loki blinked, so puzzled that Tony almost felt sorry for the clone.

“Hot as…” the clone whispered under his breath.

“Yeah, I mean… God, I hope you’re not connected to the real Reindeer Games. Fuck. If you are, can we pretend I never said what I said? I tend to let my mouth talk without my brain controlling it.”

“Connected to the real…” the clone gave an ugly chuckle. “I am the real Loki!”

Now it was Tony’s turn to frown and tilt his head.

“Nah,” he said after a long inspection. “You’re not. Haven’t tried to kill me yet. Not even to choke me. The real Loki always chokes me.”

The clone’s face went completely blank at that.

“Uhm… Hey?” Tony said after a few seconds of silence. “Did I actually manage to break a clone? Error 503: Brain Unavailable?”

The clone shook his head, probably to clear it, and took a step towards Tony.

“You idiot,” he growled. “You impossible mortal. I will crush you underneath my heel, you–”

“See? Now you sound like the real stuff!” Tony grinned. “Just a little angrier… That’s it! Perfect. Now to the crushing, while I’m not exactly into hard BDSM, I do like to get a liiittle kinky… Uhm, back to the question, you really aren’t connected to Loki himself, are you?”

“I am Loki!” the clone snarled.

“Yeah, we’ve been through this. The choking, baby. Except you can’t. Because you can’t touch me. Because if you touch me, poof, you’re gone.”

“Are you asking me to prove to you that I am real?”

“Yup. Indulge me.”

“As you wish.”

A split second later, Tony felt a very real and totally non-disappearing hand close around his throat and he came to a realization that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But before he could utter the words ‘Don’t kill me, it was just a joke’, or even a mere ‘Oh, fuck’, Loki’s lips crashed against his in a wild and passionate and hungry kiss.

Tony’s brain stopped working for a second. Or two. Maybe even ten. Because when he came back to his senses, Loki was just pulling away, breathing heavily, his face a perfect mask of horror.

“Wow,” Tony gasped, licking his lips. “I know I said indulge me, but I haven’t expected that. If I say I’m not entirely convinced yet, can I have more?”

Loki’s eyes went even wider at that, and then he disappeared in a flash of green light.

“Okay,” Tony nodded. “I take that as a no. Shame, really.”

A look down to the street revealed that all the clones were gone, too.

Right. Time to go home.

*

It had been four days since the whole clones-and-kissing incident and if Tony was to be honest, he kind of couldn’t stop thinking about it. Well, he could – but the thought was always somewhere at the back of his mind, always ready to show up and remind him that hey, Loki, as in Thor’s brother Loki, as in the wannabe-world conqueror, kissed you and you liked it.

And he did. Very much.

That was why he didn’t mind when he walked into his penthouse only to find said god sitting on his couch and reading a book.

A fucking book.

“Uhm,” Tony commented. “JARVIS?”

“I tried to alert you, sir,” the AI said. “Two hours ago. But you told me to, I quote, shut the fuck up, J, or you’re gonna spend the rest of your days in a fucking elevator, calling out the number of the floor. End quote.”

“You might have said it was… urgent,” Tony muttered as Loki looked up from his book and smirked.

“I really don’t wish to spend the rest of my days in an elevator, sir.”

“Right,” Tony nodded. “Hey, Lokitty. How you doing? J, I’m gonna need an armor at the ready.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Loki said and the book he was holding promptly disappeared. “I came to apologize, Stark.”

“Uhm… For what? I mean, there’s a long list of things you should be apologizing for, so let’s be specific there. Drink?” he asked, already heading for the kitchen.

“The kiss.”

That actually made Tony stop dead in his tracks. He frowned, turned around and stared at Loki.

“As in I’m sorry I ever kissed you, or…”

Loki sighed, avoiding his gaze. Tony realized the god wasn’t wearing his usual armor – only a pair of simple black jeans and a loose, long-sleeved green T-shirt. He looked… weirdly normal. Almost like a human.

“Oh, dear. No. Never,” Loki said, a corner of his lip twitching. “But I shouldn’t have done it without your permission.”

“Seriously?” Tony laughed, taking a step towards the couch. “You’re apologizing because you didn’t ask for consent first?”

“Well… Yes. It was inappropriate. Improper. Brutish.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tony said, sitting next to Loki without really thinking about it. “I mean… It’s not perfect, I’ll give you that, but do you see me complaining?”

Loki kept staring anywhere but at Tony.

“I’m not some kind of an animal, unable to control my impulses…”

Tony’s brain kept trying to alert him that this was Loki, who was very much wild and unpredictable and, yeah, sometimes even unable to control his impulses. But Tony didn’t listen. Because this wild and unpredictable deity was just sitting there, biting his lower lip and apologizing for something as simple as a kiss.

“Impulses?” Tony repeated after him. “Sorry, just to be perfectly clear, was the impulse a one-off thing, or something you’d like to, perhaps… happen again?”

Loki’s eyes flicked to Tony’s, then to his lips, then up again, and away.

“I should go,” the god said. “I shouldn’t have come. It was stupid of me–”

“Or…” Tony murmured, his own eyes straying to Loki’s lips. His brain was screaming at him to stop, but Tony wouldn’t listen. He’d always been bad at controlling his impulses. “Or you could try again.”

“Anthony, are you seriously suggesting…”

“Fuck,” Tony whispered, a shiver running down his spine. He could have sworn that he hated his full name, but when he heard it from Loki’s lips like this… “Say that again.”

The god’s green eyes were so close and so full of longing that it took all of Tony’s willpower not to simply crash their lips together.

“May I… May I kiss you, Anthony?” Loki smiled.

“Yes,” Tony hissed. “Please. Yes.”

This kiss wasn’t wild and passionate and hungry. It was calm. Sweet. Loving.

And long.

Very… very long.

*

“Six months!” Steve growled. “Loki hasn’t been seen for six months. No attacks, no robberies, no showing-off, nothing. Thor isn’t even sure his brother is still on Earth!”

“I said I think he is,” Thor specified. “But it’s possible that he isn’t.”

Except that Tony knew perfectly well that Thor knew too damn well where Loki was at the moment, having visited the god only a few hours ago.

“Come on, don’t make a big deal out of it,” Clint sighed. “Maybe he’s just grown bored of us.”

“You? Maybe. Me? Never,” Tony smirked. “Everybody knows I’m amusing as hell and completely irresistible even to Norse gods!”

“And so very modest, too,” Natasha added. “But I’m with Clint – I think Loki’s just had enough. He might be back in the future, but for now, we should enjoy not having to see his fucking magic tricks every other day.”

“Agreed,” Bruce nodded. “I don’t think there’s a bigger plan. Just Loki being Loki.”

“I’d like to point out that even before his disappearance, Loki was mainly just causing mischief. I mean, we were the ones who did the most damage during his last, uhm… attack?” Tony shrugged.

“What if he just wanted to lull us into a false sense of security?” Steve asked. “While he prepares for something big?”

Tony sighed and shot a quick look at Thor.

“What do you think, Point Break? Does your baby bro have a great sinister plan to murder us all, or does he just have better things to do than being an annoying little shit?”

“The latter, I’d say,” Thor smiled, because he knew he was right. Loki did have better things to do. Tony, for a start.

And reading.

And watching sci-fi movies and TV shows.

And yelling “That’s not how space works!” at the TV.

Also cooking. Which was something he was surprisingly good at.

And studying all the ancient tomes and spellbooks Thor managed to sneak out of Asgard. There were a lot of those. So many that Tony had to transform a spare room into a study.

And if he was bored, he could always do Tony again. Of course.

Or, well, cause some minor mischief all around the Tower – like hiding Clint’s arrows in weird and random places, replacing Bruce’s herbal tea with mate (and then sulking when Tony spend the whole night in the lab with hyperactive Bruce, working on a project), making the elevator stop working so everyone had to take the stairs…

Or the thing he was doing just now, which was kneeling right in front of Tony, naked from waist up and undoubtedly invisible to everyone but him, stroking the inventor’s thighs not with his hands, but with his magic, slowly getting closer and closer to his crotch...

Tony drummed his fingers on the table and got to his feet.

“Alright, so are we agreed that Loki isn’t dangerous at the moment and his sudden disappearance doesn’t mean he’s got some nefarious secret plan?”

“Agreed,” Natasha said before Cap could even open his mouth.

“Good. If you’ll excuse me now, I gotta go. I also have better things to do.”

Loki, for a start.

The second the elevator door slid closed behind them, Tony felt a pair of hot lips on his neck.

“Let me guess. You got bored?” he chuckled before sighing softly.

“Very much so,” Loki purred. “And don’t even try to pretend that you were having fun, my love.”

“It wasn’t about having fun, sweetie. It was about you being… Oh, god, right there, Loki… It was about you being a threat to all of humanity and…”

“Oh, please. I’ve only been a threat to your fridge and alcohol stash lately.”

“And my poor T-shirts. I’m still waiting for you to find the pocket dimension where you hid the Black Sabbath one, you know.”

“That was one accident, Anthony! And it wasn’t exactly my fault. To think that they call me Silvertongue…”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tony murmured, burying his fingers in Loki’s soft, curly hair. “I still want it back.”

“I’ll look for it, I promise.” Loki’s long fingers found their way underneath Tony’s T-shirt. “When I’m done with you. But I promise to deal with all your clothes the non-magical, old-fashioned way in the meantime.”

“You’d better,” Tony said.

The elevator stopped in the penthouse. Loki took Tony’s hand and dragged him out, grinning.

“You know what, Anthony? I’m really glad I kissed you on that roof.”

Tony smiled back, his heart suddenly so full of affection that it was almost hard to breathe.

“Yeah, Lokes. So am I.”

[softyoongiionly]

Talk to Me in Korean (Limited Edition)

(GIF isn’t mine!)

Your boyfriend knows English very well however, there are certain phrases he isn’t quite familiar with...

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: guys...this is what happens when I suppress my love for Jungkook. Enjoy the ride. 

**ALL ITALICIZED WORDS INDICATE WHEN THE CHARACTERS ARE SPEAKING KOREAN***

Warnings: smut, language, 18+ over only please :)

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Jungkook’s face is buried in your chest, his strong, toned arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly to the warmth of his body.

Last night, when he got in, he was completely and utterly exhausted. His normally doe-like expression was plagued with dark under eye circles and, slightly puffier red cheeks, no doubt from his 17 hour work day.

Jungkook never really knew when to quit. He didn’t know how to rest, how to pause, until he met you.

You grounded him and, kept him sane.

Through the fairytales that played out in his daily life, there were also scarier stories, darker stories scattered between them: Stories of Jungkook passing out due to overexertion, skipping meals to fit the desired number on the scale and, constant, never-ending self-depreciation.

Jungkook is different now however, he knows how to pause.

In fact, he kind of likes it.

A break, no matter how short, was long overdue for the man currently snoring between your breasts.

It was long over-due for the six other men who slept soundly in their bedrooms.

The news of the break broke to him recently, after months of negotiating.

Jungkook had rushed home, practically tripping through the front door to break the news to you, his smile wide, eyes crinkled in utter joy.

“Noona!” He had said, placing clumsy kisses against your lips, “We’re taking a break. No working for a whole month, isn’t that amazing?”

You had been in disbelief, completely shocked at the news but, you giggled and accepted his eager lips, kissing him with all of the joy you could muster.

Their final concert was last night and, you were thankfully able to get the night off work to come and support him.

He had been incredible.

He always is.

But now, nuzzled so, so closely against your chest, lips pursed against your skin, body vibrating ever so slightly with his snoring, he wasn’t Jungkook of BTS.  He wasn’t the golden maknae who could do no wrong or the incredibly sinful heartthrob you had seen gallivanting on the stage the night before.

Although, he still looked the part.

He was just, Jungkook.

The man who you met in the most cliché coffee shop during a thunderstorm, nearly 2 years ago, the man who laughs at vine compilations at 2am, the man who proudly shows you his Overwatch achievements and literally begs you to watch him ‘beat this noob into a pulp’, the man who makes everything a bet or a challenge, the man who cried when he confessed his love for you and, consistently showers you with affection whenever the two of you were in private. 

The love of your life.

You look down at him, smiling gently at the mass of black hair on his head. He had been growing it out and, you weren’t complaining, he looked amazing.

As you place a gentle kiss on his head, you literally feel him smile against your chest, his arms tightening around you. It’s almost as if he realizes once again, that he doesn’t have to be anywhere today. His legs move underneath the covers to intertwine with your own. You try your best to ignore the toned muscles as they seem to flex and unflex with his movements.

“Are you ok?” You whisper to him, fingers coming up to gently comb through his black tresses, your lips placing another kiss on his head.

The smile doesn’t wane but, he returns your gesture by placing a kiss on your chest, nuzzling into your further.

 He doesn’t speak, he just nods.

You giggle, nails tenderly scratching at his head, one of his many weaknesses.

Jungkook feels himself melting, the sensation of your hand utterly intoxicating, everything feels so gentle.

“Did you sleep good?” You whisper again, slowly coaxing him awake with your touch. Your other hand begins tracing shapes against the bare skin of his back thus, causing him to melt further into you.

He nods, his lips pressing to you again.  

Another giggle passes your lips as you draw hearts on the expanse of his toned back, admiring the curves and dips of his muscles.

He truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and, you seriously can’t believe he’s all yours.

“Noona?” His voice finally makes an appearance and, it ruins you.

Tender and scratchier than normal, sweetness dripping off the ends of it…

“Yeah?” You whisper, smoothing a thumb over his forehead as he looks up at you.

His bunny teeth make an appearance as he lets a delighted grin take over his features, “Today is…my break huh?”

His English is improving everyday, he started learning it seriously nearly a year ago, after he knew you were the one.

“It’s the first day of your break, yeah…are you excited?”  You comb his fluffy black hair away from his face, trying not to explode with fondness.

He nods eagerly, smiling still as he leans into your lips, kissing you deeply, “I can’t believe it…I get to stay inside today, with you…”

His kisses increased in frequency as he starts pecking at your lips over and over, causing you to giggle as you accept each one.

“Mm…I love when you laugh…it’s so cute…” He hums, still kissing you but, his lips are moving slowly as his hands grip your waist, nose nudging against yours, “so cute…”

You feel something stir inside of you, something warm and intoxicating.

“What do you want to do today? We can do whatever you want…” You murmur against his lips, fingers still tending to his scalp, your movements giving him goosebumps.

A playful smirk is on his mouth now as he nudges your nose again, “We are doing it now…”

“You want to kiss all day?” You affirm and, he giggles this time, slowly beginning to roll onto his back, taking you with him as he does.

“Maybe…with other things too…” His tone is slightly more sultry, his wide-eyed gaze captivating you as you settle on top of him. He lets out a shakier breath through pursed lips as his hands rest on the tops of your thighs.

You smirk, a finger hooking underneath his chin, guiding his gaze to your own, “What kind of things?”

He returns your smirk, his hands sliding further up your thighs, his cheeks dusting pink at your question, “You know…”

His confidence is waning slightly as it usually does when you’re on top of him, Jungkook had trouble expressing his desires and, even after all this time, you still make him nervous.

“I don’t think I do Kookie…will you tell me?” You tease and, you feel yourself growing slightly damp as he begins to plump up against your panties.

“It’s dirty…I don’t know it in English…” He’s practically pouting, his satoori coming through as he speaks to you in his native language.

You’d been learning Korean slightly longer than he’s been learning English so, you understand him perfectly.

“Tell me like this then….” You respond and, Jungkook’s gotta admit, hearing you speak his language turns him on.

“I want to fuck you…” His tone is deeper now but, he giggles at the end of his sentence, shocked by the contents of his own sentence.

You laugh with him, grinding down onto his growing erection, causing him to groan, “You’re bolder in Korean…”

He smirks, his thumbs pushing against the skin on your inner thigh, “I’m a man deprived Noona, forgive me, I’ve gone without your touch for so long…”

Jesus.

You’ve never done this before.

Jungkook lets his Korean slip out in the heat of the moment but, you’ve never heard him talk dirty in his native tongue before.

It was driving you crazy.

And, Jungkook, as smug as he was, could tell…

“Do you like this Noona? When I talk to you like this? Does it make you hot?” He practically whines his words, knowing how weak his submission makes you. His hands roam further up your thighs as he presses his hips up to yours.

You nod, biting your lip as you stare down at him, running your nails gently over the tops of his forearms, trying to stimulate him in some way.

He smirks again, delighting in his effect on you, he isn’t used to being the dirty one, that’s normally your job but, he’s getting off on it.

He wants to tell you how bad he wants you…

“You know how much I ache for you right? When I’m away…I play every night and, I think of you…” He breathes his confession, strong and capable hips grinding deliberately against your core. You can feel his hardness even more so, he’s practically throbbing beneath you.

“You play?” You question, encouraging him to elaborate, addicted to the sound of his voice.

He giggles again, mischief and satisfaction gracing his features, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt so free, he always holds back but, this time he wouldn’t, this time, he would lay it all out, “I touch my cock. I play with it so much and, I think of you. I think of your body, your perfect body…you’re so soft Noona, you know that? I have to bite down on my hand Noona…so I don’t whine too loud…”

The two of you are riding against each other slowly, savoring each wave of pleasure that’s washing over you, “And do you cum for me?”

A delighted smirk is on his pouty mouth and, he hums happily, nodding, his hands securing themselves on your hips, guiding you against him, “I ruin my underwear for you everytime…”

You’re ruining your own underwear at the moment but, you couldn’t care less, the slow, aching build up between your legs is worth making a mess of the sheets.

“Noona? Are you hot? Is that why you’re moving against me like this? It feels good Noona, it makes me crazy…” He’s breathless at this point but, he shows no sign of slowing. His hair, parted down the middle is growing messier and messier as he pushes his head against the pillow.

You nod, biting your lip, trying to breathe through your nose, eyes alight with pure lust, “You’re so hard jagi… it must be hurting now.”

He almost grimaces but, the pleasure on his face is too strong, “I like it when it hurts Noona…you know that…”

You pull your t-shirt off as the heat radiating over your body becomes too much, Jungkook groans at the sight of you, his eyes darkening as he thrusts up against.

“Oh Noona…look at you…” He keens, his hands leaving your hips to palm your breasts, his touch becoming rushed and greedy.

It had been too long, an entire month to be exact, since the last time the two of you were intimate and, you could feel desperation brewing inside of you.

“I can’t tease anymore…I really need to feel you…” You’re back to English now, your focus not sharp enough to speak a different language

And apparently, Jungkook is in the same boat…

An uncharacteristic smirk appears on his mouth, as he leans up towards you, his hands steadying you against him as he lingers near your mouth, his breath leaving his lips in shallow pants, “What are you waiting for then? Put me where I belong…”

You smash your mouth against him and, the kiss is hard and sloppy but, neither of you care. Your hand frantically slips between your bodies and, into the opening in Jungkook’s tight black boxers. He smiles into your mouth, shuddering as he feels your touch, his hips pushing eagerly against your hand.

He assists you, shaky fingers hooking under the side of you panties pulling them aside, looking up at you through his long lashes, a ravenous glint in his eyes, “This is mine…”

Normally, you’d admonish his language, the power is usually in your favor but, this time, you give it to him.

He’s earned it.

“It’s yours…” You breathe, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, fingers pushing his hair back, tugging on it slightly, your other hand squeezing his cock gently. “And this is mine…”

He giggles, delusional for you, his mouth hanging open for you, “Yes Noona…all yours…for your pleasure…”

You suck nibble on his lip as he scoots back against the head board, his strength impressive as always.

The two of you tense slightly as you begin sliding down on him, never breaking eye contact but, Jungkook’s eyes are glazing over, a lazy fucked out smile still on his face.

“It’s so hot inside…it makes my heart pound Noona…”

His satoori is so thick at this point that you’re having trouble understanding him but, it doesn’t matter.

The feeling of him inside of you is so euphoric, it gives you chills.

Slowly, you begin sliding up and down his length, the feeling completely out of this world.

Jungkook is smiling all the while, its boyish and content, his hands clutching to you, toned stomach muscles quivering with the sensations assaulting his body.

“Pleasure…pleasure…pleasure…all you give me is pleasure Noona…I’m so weak for you, no one else Noona…ah” He whimpers at the end of his sentence but, it’s intentional, he’s trying to drive you wild, he’s letting himself be filthy for once.

He feels drunk.

You breathe shakily in return, your pace increasing as you seek to turn his brain to mush, “You like it when your Noona fucks you don’t you? It feels good huh? Did you miss it?”

Jungkook stares up at you with the same glazed, fucked out expression, “Missed it…missed you…so good.”

He’s back to English but, you already miss his Korean, you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

His hips are powerful as they fuck up into you, the tip of him curving sinfully against your g-spot, your orgasm beginning to build inside of you.

Jungkook notices this, he notices the details, every single one, “Oh did I hit a good spot Noona? Inside? I’m a good boy yeah? I always know where it is huh?”

The smirk is back but, the twitching of his cock leads you to believe that he’s nearing his finish as well, the pleasure swimming through his veins.

“You’re such a good boy Jungkook…so good for me…” You whisper, grabbing his hands and placing them over your breasts, the two of you grinding harder against one another.

“Oh fuck…” He whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut, his hands squeezing the tender flesh.

He has a weakness for that nickname and, hearing you say it in his native tongue, drives him up the wall.

“Noona…I ‘m getting close…” He’s pleading with you but, you haven’t given him a reason to, not yet at least.

It’s your turn to smirk now, your thumb pressing over his spit-slicked lips. He takes your thumb into his mouth, sucking on it eagerly, bunny teeth nibbling the tip of it.

“Are you? Are you gonna cum hard if I let you?” You inquire, trying to maintain your composure, your finish line rapidly approaching.

He nods frantically, still sucking on your thumb, “Yes but…Noona cums first…always, I want her to cum on me…please?”

The words do a number on your heart and, you move your hips faster against him, your hand finding its way down to your swollen clit, “You want me to cum on you? Fuck me harder then…show me how much you want it…”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he sits up then, securing you to him as he begins pounding up inside of you.

There’s no warning, you cum, hard, the pace and the curve of him too much to resist, your motions on your clit sending a tidal wave of pleasure crashing against you.

“Jungkook…” You whimper his name and, he nearly looses it, his eyes rolling back at the sound.

But he holds off, he wants to watch you fall apart and, he knows better than to finish without permission.

His eyes widen as he fucks you through your orgasm, in shock at how beautiful he thinks you are.

“So pretty Noona…you cum so pretty for me…on me…oh god Noona, I love you, I love you Noona…I’m so close for you…” He’s practically crying, the emotion, the pleasure, the visuals, they’re too much.

“I love you…” You whisper, still rocking against him as you come down from your orgasm but, despite your exhaustion, you still long to make him fall apart underneath you.

With a finger hooked underneath his chin, you hold his desperate, wide eyed expression, “Cum…”

His body jerks then, as he starts to spill inside of you, his body seizing up slightly as he pounds into you. His cock pulses with pleasure, his nipples harden and, he feels like he’s gonna scream.

“Noona…Noona…cover my mouth, cover it please-oh fu…fuck…” The volume of his desperate voice nearly reaches a dangerous level before you clamp a hand over his mouth.

He whines against your hand, hips still jerking about beneath you as tears stream down the sides of his face.

You lean in kissing them away, your hips still moving slightly as you try and ease him down, “Good boy…such a good boy, it’s ok, I’m right here jagiya, just come for me…you’re so good, such a good boy.”

A muffled cry is felt against your hand as he slowly descends from the most intense orgasm of his life. He whimpers against your hand, kissing it sloppily as his hands clutch your hips, slowing you down.

You place a kiss over the top of your hand but, make no moves to pull it away just yet.

Jungkook’s body goes limp beneath you, his eyes red and rimmed with overflowing tears, as you place gentle kisses over his face.

“I love you…you did so good for me…” You whisper words of praise and reassurance into his skin as he slowly begins to calm down.

He nods, blinking away his tears as he relishes in your touch and, it’s then you pull your hand away, the palm of it covered in his saliva.

“Y/N I love you…I love you so much, I missed you so much…” He whisper shakily and, you nod, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I’m here…I love you, I’m not going anywhere…”

The thing is, you know Jungkook well. Better than he knows himself sometimes and, nearly two weeks ago, he came home to find your suitcase on his bed, causing him to panic.

He thought you were leaving him.

It was a misunderstanding of course, you had only been looking for a necklace you had lost but, still, it shook your boyfriend to his core.

It’s always been a fear of his and, for a moment, albeit it briefly, he thought it had come true.

He had been rather attached since then, checking in on you a lot more, trying his best to express himself, something he has always had an issue with.

You’ve been there through his unease, trying to reassure him in anyway that you can, that you were in this for the long haul.

You both needed this, this passionate unyielding sex and, judging by Jungkook’s current smile, blissful and entranced, you can tell it had soothed him.

“Yah…I’m so hungry now…” He whispers moments later, giggling, “I feel like I worked out…”

You return his giggle, kissing his forehead, “Sex burns a lot of calories actually so, I’m not surprised you feel that way…”

He perks up, smirking up at you, “Does it? Well, I guess I figured out how I’m gonna stay in shape while we’re on break then...”

Sounds like a plan.

[ultraviolentdread]

Hey there!! If you aren't busy could I get some headcanons for slashera of your choice with a transman s/o who's clumsy as all hell, randomly quotes memes, probably doesn't sleep and has really bad eyesight?

Anon your mind,,,,,,,,,,,,I relate heavily to that description actually aggagsgsgsgssgsgsg

(Also Billy is written as trans here so just skip him along if that isn't your cup of tea)

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

Brahms Heelshire

• He isn't all that informed about being trans so honestly you would likely have to inform him past the basic "it's a thing that exists" knowledge he does possess

• He wouldn't ever hold you it against you, you're a man regardless, and also his nanny and lover which is much more important to him than whatever you identify as or whatever is in your pants

• This man has been sheltered and living inside of the mansion walls for so long, so any and all memes fly over his head

• Quote any meme and he'll just tilt his head at you in utter confusion

• He would be a little shit to you whenever you trip and don't be surprised if he makes you trip on occasion

• Similarly, he will steal and hide your glasses or contacts because seeing you fumble around helplessly brings him endless joy

• Thankfully, these can both easily be remedied by simply ignoring him, however, he craves attention much more than he does mischief

• He also would have you go to sleep with him, pulling you into his bed whenever you tuck him in for bed

• He has a vice grip as well so retreating to your own room to try to go to sleep in your own bed isn't even an option

• Have fun falling asleep with this brat

Leslie Vernon

• Honestly? Probably your best bet when it comes to quoting memes and it being recognised

• Like he would definitely finish vine quotes, change my mind

• Your eyesight actually made him consider making you one of his victims initially, seeing how it makes you an easier target

• But it did remind him slightly of his mentor, so luckily for you, he pushed that thought aside

• This guy doesn't get a lot of sleep either because he's busy planning and setting up everything

• But he would pull you along and force you to go to sleep whenever he seems it time to get some shut eye

• He doesn't have many opinions on you being trans, you're still a man and he still loves you

• Don't be surprised if he makes comparisons between you two and Eugene and his wife, he means well by them because he greatly admires their relationship

• However, your clumsiness concerns him greatly

• He doesn't want you to accidentally set off any of the traps he's laid and fuck up all of his plans

• So don't feel offended if he makes you stay at home, he means no harm, he just can't have you fucking up his life's work that he's been slaving over

Vincent Sinclair

• This man doesn't have the best vision either, having only one functional eye himself

• He definitely would try to assist you if you're having trouble navigating around due to having misplaced your glasses (or contacts)

• He would also fret over your clumsiness, partly because he's worried about you getting hurt but also because you might destroy his works

• It's absolutely a mix of the two

• If you do get hurt however, you're in luck because this boy knows first aid and can patch you up

• He would try to help remind you to take off your binder if it's getting close to being too long, if you bind

• He sees you as a work of art and doesn't want you to damage yourself

• While he doesn't usually keep up with memes (because he didn't really see a point), so any you reference will fly past him, he does have some surreal and often times grim jokes of his own

• Prepare to get caught off guard if you ever get to hear him joke around because he will say things in the most serious voice to increase the effect

• Please teach him some more memes and jokes so he can use them against Bo

• He also doesn't sleep, frequently staying up for hours on end working on his wax creations

• On the rare occasions where he is going to sleep, he will do his best to help you fall asleep because he knows first hand how hard it can be

Bo Sinclair

• Similarly to his twin, you being trans doesn't bother him at all

• He is attracted to you regardless

• Actually your clumsiness would irritate him more because of the gas station

• Honestly, just stay out of the gas station for your own good because you will get hurt if you fall in there because car parts do not feel good to fall on

• He keeps up with memes more than Vincent, but he will get incredibly aggravated if you pull any "updog" jokes on him

• The punchline is obvious to him and falling for them makes him feel extremely foolish

• His anger is just how he expresses any of his negative emotions, it's a reflex and he does feel guilty if/when he lashes out at you for a joke

• Like your clumsiness, he would try to keep you out of the gas station if you misplace your glasses or contacts, instead advising that you just stay back at the house

• You can hang out with Lester if he's there while the twins are off doing their respective things during the day

• Like Brahms, try not going to sleep with this man around because he actually probably sleeps the best out of the three Sinclair brothers

• Bo will drag you along to bed with him and just try to hold you as the two of you fall asleep, but it proves tricker than that then he'll give you a warm drink to help tire you out

Billy Lenz

• You two are truly kindred spirits in a sense honestly

• He doesn't ever sleep and the only sleep he gets is from passing out at random from pure exhaustion

• So he would be there to keep you company when you can't fall asleep, even if his idea of keeping you company is pressing your buttons and making spouting vulgarities

• You would have to be the one to remind him to take his binder off, he is notoriously bad about wearing it for way too long

• Literally it's a miracle this man hasn't totally destroyed his ribs (bind safely folks)

• Also poor vision? Same boat

• He refuses to wear glasses or contacts and would tease you for wearing any sort of visual aid

• He would also constantly be in your personal space, just to try and see you better

• He also would mock you for your clumsiness, burst out into cruel laugh at you when you trip and fall

• Only to do the same thing seconds later

• When it comes to quoting memes, it can be hit or miss with Billy

• Sometimes he'll recognise it and other times he'll be confused and not let you see his confusion

• However, if you pull any sort of "ligma" jokes on him, he will be furious when he falls for it

• On the other hand, he has absolutely no problem pulling them on you and gets a kick out of it when you fall for them

[dylanobemineforever]

Don’t Get Involved With a Fuckboy - It’s Bound to Break Your Heart / Part 2 // Fuckboy!Stiles Au

Part 1: The Benefit Of The Doubt & The Broken Heart

Title: The Conflicted Mind & The Hidden Feelings

Author’s Note: Here is is finally! I actually was closing in on like 13 or 14k and had the feeling of not getting to an end any time soon so I decided to split it into two. Not sure when I am going to post the other part though. Depends on your feedback and how I am doing with school so yeah enjoy

Additional Note: I am too lazy to edit everything now, but will do that later

Warnings: Alcohl, talking about sex and stuff, sexual harassment

Word count: 7,7k

Songs you might enjoy listening to: Body - SYML // Blame - Thutmose

“Ready?” Claire looked you up and down with worried eyes. After two weeks of skipping classes you finally had pulled yourself together again, more or less at least. Your eyes were sunken in, still with their prominent circles beneath them that just wouldn’t leave. You also had lost a considerable amount of weight, because you’ve barley eaten. Nausea always hunting you as soon as you put something in your mouth. Why were you hurting so much? Stiles and you hadn’t been together or anything… He was just a stranger to you and still he had the ability to crush your heart in a matter of seconds. And the tragic part about it all was that you actually should have known better. Everything could have been easily avoided if you would have trusted the nagging voice in the back of your mind that constantly tried to tell you that something didn’t add up. That something wasn’t right. But you pushed the voice back, suppressed it and threw it in the dark  abyss that was your mind.  

“Yup.” That sure didn’t sound convincing.  

You looked like a mess and you weren’t ready to face Stiles. You felt like you would never be ready. You would feel better facing him, knowing that you didn’t portray how you were feeling. Showing him that he wasn’t affecting you in any way. But that wasn’t the case.  

Last class for the day. You got this, Y/N. Up until this point the first day back had been a pleasant surprise. You were nearing your vacation, so everyone was in a good mood, even the professors. You still had some assignments to take care off before Christmas vacation but that didn’t seem to falter anyone’s mood. So all in all things went smoothly. Not for long though… 

You walked into the room of your last class, only a few people were already seated. You took your things and sat down at a table that wasn’t occupied, scribbling in your notes.  

“See you later babe.” The raspy voice startled you, forcing you to look up. You wished you hadn’t. Your stomach churned, nausea hitting you once again like a train wreck. Stiles stood in front of the open door, literally sucking the life out of some girls lips. You could feel the tears building up , blurring your vision but you didn’t dare let them spill over. You didn’t want to give him that kind of satisfaction. Finally, Stiles released the girls lips and she turned around, waving goodbye. He too waved goodbye and then smacked her ass as her hips started swaying while she started to walk in the other direction. You didn’t want to look, but it was like an accident taking place right before your eyes. There was no way of turning your back to it, making you frozen in place as you watched with utter helplessness the tragedy taking place right in front of you. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, as Stiles turned around and you could finally see his face… and he yours. You didn’t even want to know how he perceived you in that moment. You knew that you must’ve looked like a complete mess whereas he looked as handsome and unbothered as ever. As he looked at you his eyes grew softer, a saddened look invading his features and a small and sly smile crept on his lips. One that looked apologetic and wasn’t reaching his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at him, seeing him kiss that girl and now this look in his eyes that screamed that he pitied you. You didn’t want his pitty. You wouldn’t need his pitty if he hadn’t played you so dirty to begin with. It was all his fault and you hated him for it.  

You looked down at your doodles , averting eye contact at all costs. But then you felt the table shift softly and out of pure instinct you looked up at the cause for the disturbance. It was Stiles. Of Fucking course. Thanks universe once again for throwing all your shit right in my face! Thanks a fucking lot!  

“Hey.” He said softly. Was he being serious right now? You couldn’t believe this guy.  

You just ignored him, playing with your fingers.  

“You know I am sorry, right?” Why the fuck was he still talking? All you wanted to do was leap up from your chair and start throwing punches at him. He didn’t deserve to be talking to you after what he did. Thinking that everything you needed was a damn apology that didn’t even sound sincere. Who the fuck did he think he was? “I really didn’t want things to end like this, but I am glad you’re back and-“  

“Stop.” You whispered, nearly inaudible. You were hurting, so fucking much and you didn’t want him to just pretend that everything was fine. Sitting next to you like he had every right to do so.  

“What?” He sounded confused as if you should feel privileged to be talking to him, but instead you had the audacity to reject him. What a fucking asshole!  

“I said fucking stop!” You nearly yelled and everyone turned to look at the two of you with wide eyes. At this point you didn’t even care anymore. You were so angry and you couldn’t keep it all bottled up any longer. “Stop talking to me. Stop looking at me. Stop pretending that everything is going to be fine just because you said you’re sorry! You know what I am feeling sorry for? That I trusted you! That I actually gave you the benefit of the doubt and you used that to win some fucking bet. Tell me Stiles, how much was I worth? What did you get as a price?” You raised your eyebrows in question. The others still looking at the both of you.  

“Can we talk after class, please?”  

You huffed. “I don’t think, I have anything left to say, Stiles. Just leave me the fuck alone!”  

Reluctantly Stiles got up from his seat just as the professor walked into the room.

“Sit down Mr. Stilinski!” The professor, Mr. Meyer, said, not even looking up as he got all the papers out his bag that he would need for his lecture.  

With a huff Stiles let himself fall back in his seat again, you just rolling your eyes at your misfortune.  

Mr. Meyer began his lecture, simultaneously Stiles began tapping his pen on the desk repeatedly, bouncing his right leg up and down in the same rhythm. Your jaw clenched in annoyance. "Can you fucking stop this?" You hissed between clenched teeth, causing him to snap out of whatever state he was in.  

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning his head to look at you. His honey brown orbs looked at you with a hint of mischief in them that you couldn't quite place. Maybe it amused him that he was still getting to you? That he was able to get under your skin that fast? Or maybe he was just being a dick.  

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, whatever."  

Fifteen minutes passed as you heard a clicking noise again. You turned to face Stiles and saw that he was tapping the pen again, subconsciously it seemed. "Are you fucking serious?" Anger was boiling within you that you had to restrain yourself from jumping up and clawing his eyes out.  

Stiles turned his head again, but didn't stop from tapping the pen. Instead he looked you in your eyes intently, never breaking eye contact. "Okay, that's fucking it, Stilinski!" You reached forward, grabbed the pen out of his hand forcefully and snapped it in half. The relatively loud crack resonated from the walls, catching the attention of a few students in the rows behind and before you, causing them to turn their heads and looking at you like you were being insane. Maybe you were. You didn't even know anymore.  

"Is there a problem, Miss Y/L/N?" Mr. Meyer asked you, voice strained.  

Automatically you turned to look at Stiles who was already staring at you with wide eyes. "No, I am sorry for the interruption, sir." Face bright red.  

"Good. Let's continue."  

The lecture dragged on for another hour, but it easily felt like five. As soon as the bell dismissed you, you hurried to grab all your belongings and within no time rushed for the door. You were already down the hall when someone grabbed your arm. "We still need to talk." Stiles' voice. Students were rushing past the two of you, some giving you weird looks. Why was he trying so hard? It seemed like his life depended on easing things out between the two of you. Why? Why did he care? Was it just because he wanted to clear his conscience? But maybe he truly was sorry. You remembered that he had tears in his eyes as he came to your dorm to apologize. Maybe you were the one overreacting? Did he deserve a second chance? But, what he did was unforgivable, right? Right?  

"I said that I have nothing else to tell you!" You spat.  

"Yeah, I know, but I have a lot that I want to tell you! Please, just hear me out?"  

"I don't thin-"  

"Hey, baby! I missed you so much!" Before you could finish your sentence the girl that you had seen earlier threw herself around Stiles' neck, enveloping his lips in a crashing kiss of tongue and teeth.  

"Good talk." They were still kissing or more precisely licking each other's faces. You spun around, ready to get the fuck out of there, when you heard his voice again.  

"Y/N, wait!"  

"You're a fucking asshole, Stilinski! Just stay the hell away from me!" You didn't look back, bursting through the doors at the end of the hallway.  

The rest of the week was a blur of tons of schoolwork and assignments that you had completed in record time. Drowning yourself in schoolwork was the only thing that occupied your mind and you weren't forced to overthink everything that had happened with Stiles. Well, at least that worked during the day. The nights however were a complete nightmare. Images were flooding your mind as you tried to fall asleep. You tried pushing them back by listening to music, but every song seemed to remind you of him and the things that had happened, causing you to lay awake in your bed till early morning. Tears never flowing though. You wished that was a good thing, but the truth was that you just didn't know what to feel anymore. You were angry at yourself. You knew who Stiles was before you got to know him on a more personal level. For some reason you thought that the Fuckboy thst Stiles portrayed to the outside world, was just a façade and the funny and caring Stiles Stilinski that he seemed to be when the two of you were alone, was reality. Well, it turned out to be the other way around. You were no better than all the girls before you, the ones that you made fun of. Why did you think you were any different? Did you really think he would change for you? Why? The worst part was that you actually wanted to forgive him. Maybe actually hear him out. And that fact alone was enough to make you scream into your pillow in the middle of the night. He had you all wrapped up around his little finger.  

"He's probably fucking some girl right now, while I can't take my mind off of him! I am a pathetic piece of shit!" You thought aloud. He didn't deserve the attention you were giving him, but yet, here you were, him being the only thing on your mind while he probably was fucked into oblivion right this second. What was it about him that you just couldn't ignore? You didn't know... and you were afraid that you would never know. 

"Claire, I don't wanna go! Just please leave me here and go have fun. I am okay, honestly!" You whined as she dragged you across the courtyard by the hem of your shirt.  

"No, you're not fine, don't even try to tell me that. And because of that we are going out, having fun and a good time, okay?" You knew that she was coming from a good place, but that was like the last thing that you wanted to do right now. "And besides, I didn't spend an hour on your make-up and hair for you to mope in your room!"  

You shook her hand off of you and halted dead in your tracks. "Stiles is going to be there, Claire..."

"Good, let's show him what he's missing out on!" It was true, you and Claire were different in every way, but for some reason it worked out between the two of you. She was so strong-willed and brave, that it sometimes radiated off of her and devolved onto you. Maybe she was right. Maybe you should go out, have a good time. After all, what did you gain from moping around in your room for the rest of your life? Nothing! Stiles had had enough power over you! You looked bomb as fucking fuck with the style that Claire had forced upon you. Time to finally stop being a miserable mess!  

The music was deafening as you opened the door. Instantly you recognized the smell of alcohol and sweat. People occupying the whole room, swaying to the music. Claire and you fought your way through the mass of people to get to the bar at the other side of the frat house.  

“What do you want?” She shouted over the music.  

“I’ll just take what you get.” You shouted back.  

It was a makeshift bar like all the other times. There wasn’t an actual bartender, everyone could just take what they wanted and mix themselves something together.  

You watched Claire walk around the desk with all the beverages, taking two red solo cups and then pouring juice in both of them and a clear liquid right after.  

“Thanks.” You took one cup from her and took a sip. It was actually quite tasty. Not too strong, but also not too light.  

Claire and you took your cups with you and walked over to the spacious community room of the frat house where all the furniture had been taken somewhere else. People were dancing, swaying to the music in a light hearted manner. Simply enjoying their time and not giving two shits about the next morning.  

Claire pulled your hand, dragging you on the dance floor.  

“Claire. I don’t wanna…” You whined, but she didn’t even listen.  

Just as Claire was content with the space she got on the dance floor ‘Blame’ by Thutmose came over the speakers, one of your favourite songs and you couldn’t help but sing along and swing your hips to the beat.  

You just want somebody you can blame One too many times, had to learn from my mistakes Took my heart now look at what remains One too many times, had to learn from my mistakes

Out of the corner of your eyes you could see Stiles and your heart dropped down on the dance floor, leaving you cold and vulnerable. Frozen in place.  

“What’s wrong?” Claire snapped a finger near your ear, making you jump. “You okay? You zoned out.” She looked at you with raised eyebrows, trying to read your mind, but came up blank.  

“It’s, uh…” You pointed to a corner near where the both of you stood.  

Oh baby You driving me crazy Don't know who can save me but Just know I'm not the same me Let you go for the both of us Got a feeling that I'm growing up Phones blowing up, late night you stay throwing up, with ur friends that ain't old enough, goddamn  

“Oh.” Claire’s expression changed from confusion to sadness in an instant as she looked into your hurt eyes. She was feeling with you. “Wanna get out of here?”  

You shook your head. “No. I’m fine.” Eyes never leaving Stiles and that blonde girl who was grinding her ass against his crotch, his hands resting low on her hips. “I just need a little more to drink. Be right back.”  

“You want me to come with?” She asked you. Not sure whether it was better for you to get a little alone time or if you wanted company.  

“No. It’s fine.” You looked around the room. “Actually, I think you’re needed somewhere else.” You winked at her, pointing near the entrance to the guy that she met at the last frat party the two of you had been to. His name was Thomas and both of them had gotten quite close to one another. He was already watching Claire and waved at her shyly.  

“No, Y/N. That can wait. I don’t wanna leave you alone…”  

“Claire, it’s okay. Just because I have boy trouble doesn’t mean you have to miss out on a great opportunity. You like him, right?”  

She looked down shyly, her cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I guess.”  

“Then, go get him!” You chuckled and nudged her side.  

“You sure?”  

“I am sure.”  

“Call me when you need me or when you leave, please!” She hugged you and you hugged her back.  

“Promise.”  

She pulled away and smiled at you sincerely and with such kind eyes that it warmed your heart. “Kick his ass for me, okay? Show him what a fucking idiot he is for letting you go like this!”  

You chuckled. “Will do my best.” She nodded, hugged you one last time and then was on her way. “Well, at least one of us is lucky.” You sighed and left the dance floor, the now empty cup still in your hand, ready for a refill.  

“May I get you anything?” Someone from behind you asked, just as you reached over the table to grab a bottle that looked interesting enough to catch your attention.  

“It’s an open bar.” You were in no mood. “I guess I’ll be fine. But thanks.” You responded, not even looking back.  

“Feisty. I like it.” The guy commented.  

You just rolled your eyes and poured something of the liquor in your cup.  

“What’s your name?” Ugh, seriously? Claire got to go with a hot, friendly and nice guy and you just seemed to attract all the assholes and creeps. Great. “Mine’s Jermey.” He came closer, uninvited. His hot breath was now fanning across your exposed neck and it sent goosebumps across your skin. Not the good kind though.  

“Take your hands off of me!” You seethed through your teeth, only for him to hear as he settled his hands on your hips and pressed his crotch against your ass. “If I were you I’d take a step back!”  

“Come on, gorgeous! Don’t be like that! Let’s have a bit fun!” He was clearly drunk. That didn’t excuse his actions though. He bend down and pressed a wet kiss against your neck, causing waves of disgust rushing through your body, but you didn’t do anything. You were stood frozen in place as his left hand sneaked up and settled mere inches beneath your breasts. You’ve never been so uncomfortable in your life. You gulped the alcohol down to a third and were ready to push him off of you when you heard someone’s voice from behind you. Could this evening get any worse?  

“Y/N, you wanna come play some drinking games with us?” His voice was the last thing you expected to hear over the deafening music. Jermey took a step back, standing beside you now and not clinging to you anymore like he was some sort of squid. You turned your head to look over your shoulder and indeed Stiles stood directly behind you. You noticed that his jaw was clenched and that even though he had spoken to you, his attention only counted for the man that was standing beside you. “So? Are you in?” He was still not looking at you, only straight ahead. Jeremy also staring him up and down with a hard glare. The tension hung so thick in the air that you thought you could practically grab it. It was still hard having Stiles this close to you, but you had few choices.  

“Yeah, sure. I am down.” You said, lacking the needed enthusiasm.  

“Okay, watchu playing? I am down too!” Jeremy asked. This time looking at you, a creepy smile on his face. Or at least that was how you perceived it.  

“I didn’t invite you, jerk!” Stiles hissed through his clenched teeth, hands forming fists at his sides.  

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jeremy took a step to get closer to Stiles, face flushing red with anger at the prospect that Stiles was just ruining his non-existent chances with you. “You’re her boyfriend or some shit?”  

Jeremy’s words made you tense up instantly. “Some shit.” You mumbled while bringing your nearly empty cup to your lips, gulping the rest down greedily. As soon as the words left you, both their heads turned to look at you. You thought you would have been subtle or whispering but apparently not. The alcohol already getting to your head.  

Jeremy looked amused whereas Stiles’ eyes casted down to the floor briefly, not being able to make eye contact with you. Wow, that was new to him. Being shy and nervous around a girl. The last time he remembered being shy around a girl was probably in middle school when he had his first school dance and was about to ask a girl out. After that, he didn’t remember having any difficulties with the opposite sex. Naturally, Stiles was the most confident, outgoing and sarcastic person that you would probably ever meet, but around you he felt like he was none of those things. He felt weak when he was near you, feeling as though you had complete control over him and he didn’t know why or how he could stop it. It just was and he hated it.  

“You’re coming now or what?” Stiles asked you impatiently, trying to play over what you had said. You nodded and took his hand that he was holding out for you to take, so he could guide you through the mass of people to where you would play the games he was referring to. Before the both of you got to go away though he turned around to look over his shoulder to Jeremy. “Stay the fuck away from her, you hear me? If I as much as see you near her so help me God! Understood? Or else I am gonna break off an extra large branch, wrap it in barbed wire and shoved it up your pathetic asshole! Have I made myself clear?” Over the loud music you could barley understand Stiles, the only thing that you could make out though was that he looked angry as hell. The veins on his neck were protruding and his face was red as he spoke. Jeremy on the other hand lost his cocky smile and just nervously nodded. What did he say?  

“What was that about?” You asked him as he closed the distance between you.  

“Uh, nothing. Just told him that I really liked his shirt.”  

“Yeah, right. You think I’m that stupid?”  

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid at all. I just think that you don’t need to know everything.” He said as he pulled you towards a group of people that was already seated in a circle on the floor, out of the way from where people were dancing.  

You recognized a few people of Stiles’ group of friends and some unfamiliar faces. They all welcomed you and eventually someone, you guessed it was Scott, pulled you down to sit in the middle of him and Stiles. Great. Every cell in your body screamed for you to get up. You felt humiliated sitting between Stiles and one of his closest friends who had also been involved in the bet. You remembered seeing him in the doorframe that day, heavily drunk on a Tuesday morning. Stiles had probably told him everything about your night together and you didn’t know if he talked good or bad about it. You didn’t want to be there, but yet you didn’t make a move to get up, sitting cross legged on the floor next to Stiles, your knees brushing against one another.  

“Okay what do we wanna play first? ‘Spin the bottle’ or ‘never have I ever’?” A girl opposite of you asked.  

“Never have I ever!” Scott hollered excitedly and a few others joined.  

“Okay so just so everyone’s on the same page here.” The girl started. “Issac is going around and handing everyone something to drink, in the middle are also shots for everyone to grab freely. We are going clockwise and everyone needs to say something that they have never done before and everyone who has, needs to drink. That’s it basically… ready? Who wants to start?”  

Again Scott chimed in. “Me! I wanna start!” Oh my God he was basically a human puppy, you thought to yourself and couldn’t hide the small smile that grazed your lips. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see that Stiles was looking at you, watching your every move. “Okay, never have I ever had any kind of sexual contact in one of the toilet stalls on campus.”  

A few faces looked down in shame as they took their cups to their lips, one of them being Stiles. But in comparison to the others he didn’t look shameful, more amused or something along those lines.  

“Okay, Y/N you’re next.”  

“Uhm, okay, let me think… Never have I ever stolen something from someone close to me and not told them afterwards.”  

People started snickering and shaking their heads at you. You looked next to you seeing Stiles already watching you. There was something in his bright eyes that you couldn’t quite grasp. Was it admiration? Awe? Maybe even mischief? You didn’t know.  

You laughed awkwardly because no one began drinking. “What? Was that a bad question?”  

“Come on Y/N. You can do better than this! We wanna know all the dirty little secrets that any one of you, of us, has!” A boy answered. You guessed his name was Liam but you weren’t quite sure. You have seen him around campus before, but never really interacted with him. Also because he was younger than you.  

“Uhm, okay… then, how about… Never have I ever had a three-some?”  

“Yeah that’s better!” He nodded his head approvingly.  

Not to your surprise Stiles raised his cup to his lips, taking a sip… and so did two other girls that you didn’t know.  One didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what that meant. Some of his friends even cheered or gave him a pat on the shoulder when they were close enough. You huffed “Right. What did I expect?” But he hadn’t heard you or at least pretended that he hadn’t.  

“Never have I ever…” Stiles began talking. Wow I wonder if there even is something that he has never done before! “…had sex in one of my roommates beds.” That was were he drew the line? Seriously? Or was it just because the opportunity had never presented itself to him?  

“Oh my God, Scott! You better not tell me it was my bed!” Isaac yelled as he saw Scott drinking.  

“Or mine!” Stiles amd Liam said at the same time.  

The accused boy just chuckled lightly while still drinking and shrugged. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” Stiles said dismissively and scrunched his nose up in disgust.  

“Yeah, us neither!” The other two yelled.  

The next one was a girl who you knew from some of your lectures, her name was Sydney. “Never have I ever been the dominant one in the bedroom.”  

Nearly everyone drank. Stiles of course, but he quirked an eyebrow at you as you took a sip yourself. You just stared back provocatively.  

“Never have I ever slept with someone in this circle.” The girl next to Sydney said.  

You got sick to your stomach. People had already suspected that you had slept with Stiles but that would be a proof for them and you didn’t want to become the number one gossip again. But at least three people knew for sure that you did. Two of them sitting right next to you and you didn’t know if Scott or the others in their drunken state would call you out if you didn’t drink, making things impossibly more awkward. Or even Stiles! What if he would call you a liar?! You honestly didn’t know with him at this point.  

Stiles took a sip and so did the two girls that had the three-some with him, another girl drank and then another. But not another male drank, leaving just Stiles. Of course it could be that the other two girls had slept with one another, but from the looks they were giving Stiles this second it was unlikely. Now it was your turn. Your hand gripped the cup tighter, nearly crashing it. Arms slightly shaking, mouth going dry. You knew it before, but now it was proven that you were no better than any of the girls Stiles ever had something with. You had really thought that you would respect yourself more than this, but apparently you did  not.  

Stiles watched you carefully.  He sensed that you tensed after the question was asked, being completely frozen in place. He wouldn’t be mad if you wouldn’t drink. Why should he? He knew that you wanted to forget about it and he couldn’t blame you. He messed up and he knew it. Big time.  

Without overthinking it any further you reached in the middle of the circle grabbing a tiny glass with a clear liquid in it. You brought it to your mouth and let the alcohol burn your throat, savoring the warm feeling it left there. All eyes were on you now as you took another shot and another and another.  

“Woah there! Is that how often you did it?” Isaac asked you. Stiles sitting completely confused beside you, not understanding what you were doing.  

“Nope.” You popped the “p” as you spoke, already feeling tipsy. “This is just how badly I wanna forget about it.” You raised another glass in the air, cheering to yourself, winking at Stiles and gulping the alcohol down.  

“BURRRRN!” Liam hollered, barley able to contain his laughter. A few others joined in, whereas some of the girls looked at you disapprovingly, having just insulted their sex God or whatever.  

You reached out again as a strong veiny hand grabbed your wrist, holding your arm in place. “I think you made your point. You shouldn’t drink that much, you don’t look like you can handle much more.” Stiles said, but not angry. He sounded caring and understanding, but your already slightly drunken brain was even more sarcastic than your sober one.

“Mom? Is that you?” You asked, eyes going wide and you clutched your chest with your free hand in fake surprise.  

Everyone started laughing and Stiles just let go of your wrist with a huff. He understood where you were coming from. He didn’t even want to know how much you hated him, but for some reason it still hurt him. In years no girl was able to get under his skin like you did and he hated himself for messing everything up. But on the other hand his always prominent self doubts were creeping in on him. Self doubts that no one knew about. How could they? Everything about Stiles screamed confidence and complacency. He constantly asked himself that if none of this ever happened would he have a chance with you? And if so, did he really deserve you? Probably not. You were too good for him. Maybe the universe knew that too and let you hate him. No. That was not on the universe. That one was on him. Solely him and his stupidity. He didn’t even remember why he had been willing to take the bet in the first place.  

The game of “Never have I ever” was soon finished as everyone had asked a question. Everyone already slightly drunk at this point.  

“Now, ‘spinn the bottle’!” Isaac said while placing a bottle in the middle of the circle, shoving the tray with the shots on it to the side. “Okay, the one who’s spinning the bottle says what the person on whom the bottle points has to do. But you say it beforehand, that way no one can pick truth or dare and the game is a little spiced up, because there are always people just picking truth or dare and so everyone has to do whatever.” Isaac paused and looked around him. “Who wants to start?” No one made an indication to grab the bottle so eventually Isaac just shrugged and started himself. “On whom the bottle points has to go up and kiss a random stranger outside of our circle.” Isaac spun the bottle and it landed on Sydney who watched with wide eyes at its tip, damning it for stopping directly in front of her.  

“Do I have to?” She asked shyly and everyone around you nodded.  

“Those are the rules.” Isaac replied.  

“Uh, fine!” Sydney stood up begrudgingly and walked a few hesitant steps towards a small group of guys, chatting amongst themselves. Everyone from your little group watched her intently as she tucked her hair back behind her ear and looked over to you, shaking her head as if to tell that she couldn’t do it. You saw the helplessness on her face and therefore gave her an encouraging thumbs up and a big smile. Not much, but it apparently worked. Besides it was good for Sydney if she could come out of her shell a little. She turned around again and now walked with a bit more confidence. She started a conversation with one of the guys but they were too far away so you couldn’t understand what they were saying. And then out of the blue she just reaches forward and pulls this poor guy down by his collar, engulfing his lips in a heated kiss which he returned immediately. After a few seconds they broke apart. The guy looking a bit flustered but Sydney was smiling, turning around and coming back to you were she was welcomed again with a wave of applause. She thanked you all and then took the bottle in her hands.  

“Okay, I guess I have one.” She said, fidgeting with the bottle. “On whom the bottle points has to make out with the person to their right. And with make out I don’t mean just like a peck on the lips but like, you know, make out.”  

“Look at you!” Scott exclaimed. “All warmed up now, after that kiss. Good for you!” Sydney laughed as her face turned pink, then she spun the bottle. And it pointed at-

“Y/N!!!” Sydney and Liam both squealed at the same time.  

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you turned around to face the person next to you.  

“We don’t need to do this, Y/N.” Stiles whispered only for you to hear.  

“Could you speed this up a little?” A girl asked annoyed.  

Palms getting more clammy as the seconds got by. Stiles was staring into your eyes, asking you if you were okay with it. Honestly? You didn’t know. Would you be okay with this? Kissing Stiles again has been on your mind since things got ugly. Even then you still thought about how his lips on yours had felt. How they could set your whole body aflame, sending shocks of electricity through your entire body.  

You made up your mind and so you nodded. Stiles reached out and cupped your face in his hands and then finally leaned down and placed his lips on yours in a fiery kiss. This kiss was everything you had imagined and some. It was sweet. It was wild and messy. It had all the bottled up emotions in it that were now freely roaming between you two. There was hate, hurt, lust, vulnerability and care mixing into the kiss. Tongues visibly dancing and fighting for dominance. Your hands grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer, if at all possible. The kiss got more heated and you nearly forgot that you weren’t alone and that this was just for a game, not more. Oh God, how you wished it was more.  

Scott cleared his throat next to the both of you. “Get a room you two!” He chuckled and that was what made you both pull apart. “Wow, am I the only one literally feeling the sexual tension in the air right now?” Scott asked the others and they just stifled laughs and nodded, confirming his statement.  

“Scott, shut it, would you?” Stiles said and you could feel your face heat up. “Okay, moving on.” He clapped his hands together and gave you the bottle. You sighed and took it from him.  

“On whom the bottle points has to tell us about the last time they had sex.” You spun the bottle and it pointed at a girl who you didn’t know.

The game dragged on for another hour or so. Nothing really interesting happening anymore. Your mind was clouded with the kiss you and Stiles had shared and you had to catch yourself a few times in order not to break out in tears at any given moment. You were a wreck. How could you still feel so strongly about him? Why did he still have you wrapped around his finger? Why was everything so confusing? On top of all these confusing emotions, your head was spinning slightly. After all the shots you had you had still kept on drinking. A mistake as you realized now.  

“You okay? You don’t look so good, Y/N.” Scott asked you in a worried tone.  

“Where’s the bathroom?” You asked as you sprung to your feet. Another mistake because you stumbled and out of pure instinct grabbed Stiles’ shoulders to steady yourself.  

“It’s just down the hall and then it’s the first door to your right.” Stiles answered instead of Scott. “Don’t you want me to come with?”  

You didn’t even answer him as you burst away and in the direction that Stiles had described to you. Soon you were bending over the toilet and emptying your stomach to a good extent. A few minutes passed by and you closed the lid and sat atop of it, hearing a faint knock coming through the door.  

“You okay in there?” Stiles.  

“No.” You slurred, nearly falling from the toilet as exhaustion was crashing down on you like a collapsing building. “M’so tiiiired.” You yawned.  

Stiles opened the door hesitantly and looked at your half asleep form, sitting on top of the toilet lid. He chuckled. “Don’t we know our boundaries, eh?”  

“Oh, shut up!”  

“Okay, come here.” He took you up bridal style, pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and carried you up the stairs to his shared dorm. 

“You know," you slurred as Stiles struggled to pull one shoe after the other off your feet. "I still like you." Stiles' movements faltered. He looked up where you were laying on his bed. Head propped on your hand, elbow digging into his mattress. Your eyes were glossy and only half open, as if you would fall asleep any second which was probably not so far-fetched. "I know pathetic, right?" You laughed bitterly, causing Stiles to look down in shame. He got up from his knees, grabbed the blanket that laid beside you and draped it over your body. He had debated whether or not he should change your clothes and give you a shirt of his own to sleep in, but in your drunken state you weren't able to change alone anymore and even though he had already seen you naked, he figured it wouldn't sit well with you if he did that. The room fell silent and Stiles thought that you were already asleep, even though your head still rested on your hand. It looked rather uncomfortable to him. He was already on his way out of the room, hand hovering over the light switch, when you started talking again. "Maybe, maybe it's true," you said. Words so slurry that Stiles had a hard time deciphering what you were saying. He turned around again, seeing that you had finally laid your head on his pillow. You looked at him, he wasn't sure but it looked like you were crying, so he moved in your direction again, kneeling down beside his bed once more. Your hand reached out to take his and he gladly gave it to you. Your skin was soft under his touch and it freaked him out how comforting it felt to hold your delicate hand in his. Stiles looked up at your face again, now he could see that you were definitely crying and the sight broke his heart into a million pieces, no matter how much he damned it for it.  

"What's true?" He asked you, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.  

"That, that we only accept the love we think we deserve." You squeezed his hand slightly, another bitter laugh escaping your parted lips. More tears flowing as you tried to blink them away. "Maybe that's why I still like you. Maybe I think that I deserve to hurt like this, to be treated that way." You shrugged, expression becoming more serious, eyebrows knitted together as your drunken brain tried to wrap itself around the meaning of what you just said. "Maybe, maybe that's the reason you refuse to love, Stiles. Maybe you think you aren't worthy of anyone loving you. That you don't deserve love."  

"Stiles, is that you?" Stiles winced at his father's voice. No lights were on, but Stiles could tell that his father's voice came from the living room. He probably passed out on the couch again.  

For a second, Stiles thought about not answering and quietly rushing up to his room, but he knew that this wasn't a good option either. He had tried it so many times before, knowing now that it only made things worse.  

"It's me, dad."  

Footsteps were closing in on his position at the door, his initial reaction being to just yank the door open again and run, but he also had already tried that and again the punishment was worse than what he knew was inevitably coming. He'd learned to abandon every natural instinct of escaping.  

"Where the hell have you been?" His father slightly slurred as he came out of the shadows and stood right in front of the frightened little boy. "I asked, where the hell you've been!"  

Stiles voice was trembling as he spoke, afraid of what was undoubtfully to come. "I – I was at Scott's we had – we had some school stuff to do and – and we kinda lost track of time." He put his arms above his head in hopes to protect himself, already anticipating the pain that was sure to come. "I am sorry, dad!" Tears were streaming down his cheeks.  

"You worthless piece of shit!" The first blow came crashing down on him, another hitting him in the stomach, leaving him on the floor, gasping for air. "Get out of my fucking sight!" Another kick to the rips, even though he was already lying on the floor.  

Ever since Stiles' mom had died his father tried to escape reality through whisky bottle after whisky bottle. He lost his job, became more aggressive and eventually lost every control he still had over his life whatsoever, telling Stiles repeatedly that he was worth nothing and was just a waste of space, until Stiles eventually believed it himself. He gave up hope about his situation ever becoming normal again, to get the loving father back that he knew was still somewhere in there. He gave up, simply because he started to believe the hurting words that escaped his father's lips every day again. He was worthless and would forever be worthless. He deserved to suffer, he was sure of it. At least that was what he's been told ever since he was only ten years old.  

Stiles shook his head, trying to get the images that were hunting him out of his head.  

"What happened to you? What happened to you that made you like this?" You untangled your now intertwined fingers and Stiles immediately missed feeling your skin on his. The comforting feeling leaving with your touch. "Why are you like this?" Your now free hand reached out to cup his right cheek, the feeling of comfort immediately returning. "Tell me..." You were still pretty drunk, but it seemed that your mind had cleared a little.  

"I think you should sleep." As if his words triggered something within you, you yawned and nestled your face deeper into his fluffy pillow in order to get more comfortable. Stiles took that as his cue to get up from the floor and leave you alone, but before he could even stand straight, you reached out for his hand again. Tucking at it.  

"Don't leave." Your voice was only a whisper at this point. "Please."  

"You sure?"  

You hummed, scooting back slightly so he could lay beside you. Stiles laid down, sharing the pillow with you. The both of you were so close that he could feel your hot breath ghosting over his face. A lazy smile grazed your lips, seeming contradictory to your tear stained face. Your eyes fluttered close, but before you fell asleep you were still able to mutter three words that made his stomach do flips.  

"You deserve love."

Part 3: More Tears & More Heartbreak

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[imaginetonyandbucky]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - Ch3/4

The days after the ‘incident’ are a blur for me. Loki, Thor’s extravagant brother, decided it’s prime time for some seasonal mischief on Earth and throws an evil overlords’ party in New York for the Avengers to deal with.

Thor said Loki was adopted but damn…someone needs to find the guy some hobby. Only a demi-god bored out of his mind would bring all sorts of funky alien creatures to the middle of Manhattan for an afternoon playdate.

All. Week. Long.

Contrary to Steve’s wishes, I joined the fight the second day, after a gigantic alien bug smashed through the common floor’s windows and disrupted my relaxing round of Smash bros. Thought it was appropriate to join the Hulk and do some smashin’ of my own.

By the end of the week, I didn’t even mind Steve’s disapproving pout when he called the assemble and I just automatically went to suit up as well.

And today is no different.

“You know, I’m starting to suspect your little brother might actually hate you,” Clint says with all the subtle sarcasm he could come up with, glaring at Thor.

“He indeed appears to be in a foul mood! But we shall prevail against these…sluggy…glistening armored fish abominations just like we have prevailed in the past!” Thor booms and doesn’t fail to grab both of Clint’s shoulders in a deathly grip of brotherhood.

“Let’s try apprehending Loki this time, before he slips back into Asgard. Again,” Steve sighs from the front seat of the quinjet.

Me and Clint drop down first to take the high-ground while the quinjet touches down on the coast and the Avengers pour out to deal with the…sluggy armored fish abominations hands on.

“Alrighty, here we go. Wanna bet who gets more of those little slimy critters?”

“I refuse to be the Gimli to your Legolas,” I roll my eyes and assemble the Stark-designed sniper rifle with precision and speed that’s partly my own, partly the Soldier’s.

“A-ha! So Cap did give you his bucket list of movies you gotta catch up with! Or more like…Bucky-list, amirite?” he snickers, already sending arrows left and right.

Sometimes I wonder if this guy is seriously an adult.

(Read-more ahead!)

“Shut up and shoot. You’ll need the extra shots if you wanna beat me.”

“And here I thought you don’t wanna be the gruff dwarf to my lean, Elfish awesomeness! I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”

“Bullets are faster than arrows,” I point out and take aim at the first fishy beast. When I pull the trigger, the bullet goes straight through its toothy jaw, body going limp and onto the ground.

“We’ll see about that!” he takes the challenge and intensifies his shooting.

It only takes a minute for us to realize we might have a problem. Unless we hit the funky creatures in their weak, unarmored spots of skin, the arrows – and the bullets – ricochet off their armor.

Asgardians and their damn magic.

“Well, so much for this,” I discard the rifle and wire down the building to join the fray up close. Let’s see how resistant the critters are to a metal fist.

“Aw, maaaan,” I hear Clint sputter through the radio and spot him descending down here as well. He might be the master of long-range fights, but he sure doesn’t shy away from some close combat – if necessary.

And this time it is necessary.

Steve and Thor successfully smash the magic-enhanced creatures with their superior shield and hammer combo and Natasha has already switched from deadly bullets to deadly daggers. Sam is flying all around the place, usually just setting up the kills for the others and making sure the perimeter is clear and that’s it. Since Steve ordered both Bruce and Tony to take a day off, we kinda lack the raw smashing power and the devastating Iron Man repulsors.

Or…not?

I watch not three, but five of the armored beasts explode in what is unmistakably repulsor fire and glance up just in time to spot the flash of gold and crimson. Something about a fully weaponized flying suit of armor is just so damn cool…so who can blame me for observing it throughout the past few battles. Very closely. Purely out of curiosity and…tactical reasons. Yeah, all about tactics.

Speaking of which, there’s a disapproving Captain America about to have a fit in the comms in three, two, one…

“Iron Man! I told you to stay in the Tower for this one!”

Here we go.

“Oh. Did you? I could swear you said play in the shower…which I did and now I’ve come to play here. So rude not to invite me to a party like this, Capsicle!”

“As much as I would argue about the party bit – again – we could actually use an extra hand here, couldn’t we?” Natasha saves us from Steve’s imminent lecture for now and everyone resumes their fighting efforts.

Loki is nowhere to be found this time, which is bad news. He’s either getting bored of this himself, or he’s on the lookout for more weird aliens to send our way tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, the coast is clear. Kinda. It’s full of dead, slimy fishy bodies that are already starting to smell worse than before.

“Alright, let’s check the perimeter, make sure we’ve got them all. Someone is going to have to deal with all these,” Steve commands and looks around the graveyard of a battlefield.

“I’ve called it in. Fury should be here with the clean-up crew any minute. He likes sushi so this should be right up his alley,” Tony chuckles and lifts off. “See ya back in the shower. I mean Tower.”

I don’t even have to turn around to know that deep sigh of utter desperation comes from our mighty leader. He orders us back to the quinjet and within minutes we are back in the Avengers Tower, safe and sound.

Safe from the aliens at least. The fury on Steve’s face as he spots the disobedient engineer at the bar with Bruce could only be rivaled by the fury on Fury’s face when he sees the mess we’ve left in there for him to clean up.

“What were you thinking?!”

“Hm? Oh, I was thinking we could skip shawarma and go for double Shirley Temple’s all around. Or a Roy Rogers for you if you fancy something alcoholic, it’s past five so we can do that without Bruce calling the AA. Here, have one,” Tony hands the drink with an over-the-top umbrella to the rapidly advancing Captain, not expecting what happens next.

To be fair, nobody really expects Steve to slap that cocktail out of Tony’s hand with enough force to cause an audible smack and all but lift him off the bar stool, hand twisted into his shirt’s collar.

“I gave you a direct order! You don’t listen to me and my lectures and that’s fine, but this was a mission, Tony! You’ve been barely keeping yourself on your feet this entire week! You’re either gonna get yourself killed on the field or worse, someone else! I don’t want to see you anywhere near a battle until you’ve rested, eaten and gotten your act together!”

“Yeah? Then how about you back the fuck off, Rogers!” he spits into Steve’s face, all traces of amusement – fake, but still amusement – gone from his features.

I remember that look all too well from one week ago, when I’ve taken one too many steps towards the already panicked man. Back then I’ve written it off as circumstantial. But apparently he’s actually got enough reasons to flinch away from imposing supersoldiers.

And I’ve seen just about enough evidence.

“I will, when you - ” Steve starts, but to his own shock doesn’t get to continue.

I have found that a metal fist pushing against one’s neck usually has that effect on people. I have also found that trying to execute said move against a friendly in the presence of one Natasha Romanov usually ended up with me dodging a rain of daggers and snapping out of whatever rage-filled Soldier episode I’d be under at the time.

But this rage is all me and judging by the lack of daggers, Natasha must be thinking the same.

Steve stumbles back, the hand he’s been holding Tony with a second ago flies to my metal one still pushing him backwards, until I decide we’re far enough.

“Bucks, let me go, I’m just - ”

“I don’t care.”

“Buck - ”

“I. Don’t. Care,” I repeat with all the intimidation I can without really snapping into the Winter Soldier right here and there.

He stares at me, the anger dissipating in an instant. For the first time since I can remember, he’s not looking at me with concern, pity or disappointment. Just surprise, confusion…and little tiny bit of fear.

It should probably alarm me, but there’s no excuse for Steve’s behavior. Giving him a little taste of his own medicine might just work.

“Go cool off. Now,” I command, releasing him from my firm, but harmless grip.

Steve hangs on the spot for a moment, his widened eyes searching my face for…I’m not sure what. He probably doesn’t find it in the end and backs away and out of the room without a word.

I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t. Or I don’t want to really think about it.

“Wow. Did you just send the Captain to his room to think about what he’s done like the naughty little kid he is?” Clint whistles and walks up to me, hand already up, expecting a high-five. He abruptly stops few feet away though, glancing at something behind me. “Right…well, I need a shower.”

“Splendid idea! Let’s go converse about today’s battle underneath the falling sprinkle!” Thor decides and goes ahead first.

“For real,” Sam nods when he sniffs at Clint, nose scrunched up.

“You’re not exactly smelling of roses yourself,” Clint retaliates and both bird men head for the elevator, fiercely glaring at each other the whole way.

I risk turning around, fearing whatever it was that stopped even Clint in his tracks, but there’s nothing to see, really. Tony has sat back on the stool, looking down at his fidgeting fingers with that scary, closed off expression.

Bruce’s expression is anything but closed off – his rage is carefully hidden behind his eyes and to anyone else, he looks just as calm as ever. Until you realize that angered spark is next to last thing one would see before he turns all green.

He gives me a tiny smile and a nod, his left hand resting on Tony’s forearm in a simple, comforting gesture.

I return the nod and dodging Natasha’s own searching squint, I leave the room as well. I’ll make sure Steve gets his shit together and Bruce will make sure Tony’s okay. Sounds fair enough.

Just gotta ignore that painful sting that stabbed at my chest as soon as I’ve seen the two sciencebros together. Haven’t felt that one in…decades.

And it freaks me the hell out.

“Sergeant Barnes? Sergeant?”

I stir from my usual limbo to the gentle sound of JARVIS’s purposefully lowered, but urgent voice. “Wh’t?” I slur, running a hand over my eyes, clearing my vision a little bit.

Did I fall asleep? I was reading this weird book about sparkling vampires and…oh wait. Yeah. That might be the reason why I fell asleep. Natasha did mention I shouldn’t read it past midnight unless I really wanted to sleep.

“If I could possibly bother you with a…request,” JARVIS continues in the same, uncertain but adamant tone that he only ever uses when something serious is going on that he can’t do anything about. A mission…or Tony.

“S’mthin’ wrong?” I discard the large book and stretch in the chair.

“Possibly…do not be alarmed, please. It is nothing life threatening I assure you, but…your assistance would be much appreciated. By me, that is.”

So it is Tony. JARVIS always speaks in twisting riddles when his creator is concerned. Sometimes I don’t understand this dynamic they’ve got going. I suppose something in his code is preventing him from being straightforward about these matters – so he’s forced to improvise.  

“What is it, JARVIS?”

“Sir has – how do I put it. He deemed it necessary to use last resort means in order to sleep tonight.”

Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all. “Last resort? Where is he? What kinda la - ”

“He is drinking by the penthouse piano, Sergeant. Not excessively, yet, but he had only just begun.”

“Oh. I’m not sure how I can help you with that.”

“I would usually request Colonel Rhodes’s presence in such cases, but he is too far to make it here soon enough. I…would prefer if Sir was not alone.”

And that right there is why everybody likes JARVIS. Because JARVIS likes everyone. He’s proven on many occasions before he’d go through great lengths to make everybody’s life here the best experience possible. Even my own.

But let’s just say this pursuit of his intensifies a thousand fold when it comes to Tony. And I can’t argue with that at all.

“What’cha want me to do?”  

“Just keep him company.”

“I can do that,” I nod and get up, walking straight to the opening elevator. It’s a simple enough request, but... “Wouldn’t Bruce be a better choice though?”

“I believe given the current circumstances, Sir would appreciate you more than Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replies without hesitation, the raw honesty in his statement making me pause in my tracks for a second.

“Why?” I ask in a mere whisper, hand resting against the wall of the now moving elevator. Next to Colonel Rhodes, Bruce is Tony’s best friend when it comes to the Avengers. And me...I’m pretty much just a stranger.

“Because you understand,” he answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I let that sink in, while the elevator stops and opens on the floor I can’t say I’ve ever been on before. I often go to the roof, which is right above the penthouse, but the penthouse itself has always been taboo for me. Actually most of the Avengers.

It’s Tony’s sanctuary, much like the workshop. That makes it two places in the Tower I haven’t been in.

Or just one, now that I take a cautious step inside the spacious room. The lights are dimmed, but it isn’t hard to spot the engineer. He’s right where JARVIS said he would be – by the black concert piano next to the bar. One hand holding onto a bottle of brandy, the other ghosting over the black and white keys in some random melody.

It feels like I’m invading his privacy…technically, I am. Hopefully JARVIS was right or I might have to dodge a furiously hauled bottle of liquor.

Before I can decide how to best announce myself without startling him, his hand stills over the keyboard and the other extends toward me. It’s shaky and makes the golden liquid slosh in the bottle in wild audible waves.

“On second thoughts,” he looks at me with somewhat unfocused eyes, “why waste this expensive beauty on someone that can’t even get drunk.” The hand moves back to rest the bottle on Tony’s thigh and he squints at me. “Can you get drunk?”

Now that I think about it, I guess I can’t. If Steve can’t, then chances are it’s the same for me. I don’t remember HYDRA ever experimenting with this particular fact and the Soldier definitely didn’t go on any post-mission beers either.

“S’pose not,” I shrug, observing the surprisingly very sober man. He appears a bit hazy, but that could just be the exhaustion from however many hours he hasn’t slept for this time. “And I’m more of a beer guy anyway.”

He perks up at that, the squint disappearing. “Really? Where did you get your hands on a beer during the Great Depression?”

I chuckle and deeming it safe enough I walk slowly to the piano. “New York wasn’t all that big on prohibition you know? And by the time I could drink, prohibition was all but over anyway.”

Tony looks up in thought and nods. “Ah yeah…forgot,” he adds in a whisper and focuses back on the keys, not playing anything, just touching them curiously.

“There was this warehouse…I don’t really remember what it was called. I used to go there with a couple other fellas on the weekends to earn some money. Heavy liftin’ and stuff. Wasn’t much, but the manager always invited us for a pint after the shift. He was Irish I think...taught us all sorts of drinkin’ songs. And games.”

I smile at the memory. It’s so rare for me to recall something with enough detail to make a story out of it, but somehow all the drunken Saturdays just got back to me now.

I glance at Tony and catch him staring at me with a smile of his own.

“Drinking games? Now that’s more like it, Sergeant. And you said you wouldn’t know what to do when you can’t sleep,” he grins and puts the bottle up on the shiny surface of the piano, nudging it closer to me.

“S’not gonna work,” I poke the bottle and sigh. Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. But a drunken haze is a little too close to the dreamless abyss so yeah, I’d rather avoid that.

“Sucks.”

“How’s it workin’ for you?”

“Like magic! Can’t remember shit in the morning.”

“You don’t look very happy about it though,” I point out, leaning gently against the luxurious wooden instrument.

The grin slips away as his eyes travel down to the keys. “Isn’t exactly the best way to…how did your bestie put it? Rest and get my shit together? That. Contrary to everyone’s belief, I really would prefer the usual way.”

“Yeah…sorry about him, by the way. That was way out of line. What he did.”

“Thought he was supposed to fight the bullies, not be one of them,” he scoffs, playing a deep, dramatic accord.

Just as I imagined, he’s not really angry with Steve about what happened. He’s just quietly resigned about it.

And that’s just wrong.

I can be mad at my best friend for the both of us – and I am – but Tony should at least make it clear that leader or not, worried or not, Steve’s behavior was unacceptable. And if he wouldn’t listen, then he should explain what’s really going on underneath all the pretense of irresponsibility and recklessness.

Then again, same could be said for me. Even JARVIS suggested it. Just tell them the truth. Some things really are easier said than done.

I understand though. And only now I realize that I might be one of few that really do. We have the same kinda problem, with the added irony of wishing we could swap places.

To dream and not to dream.

I don’t really wanna deal with the others…explaining this to them, not even Steve. Especially not him. But Tony understands just as much as I do and I can’t say that I mind. Not at all. It’s…nice to know there’s someone in here that I don’t have to hide under a mask from. Someone that goes out of his way to make things easier for me – and I will sure as hell do the same.

“You’re right. I told him as much so…he tries somethin’ like this again, I’ll deck him in the face hard enough he flies all the way back to Brooklyn.”

He looks at me, eyes wide and mouth forming an astonished ‘o’. “Sergeant Barnes! That’s your best friend you’re talking about!” he maintains the scolding expression for a second before breaking into a laugh. “I’d pay to see that actually,” he adds in a whisper.

“You won’t have to, if he ever decides to be an asshole again.”

He yawns, eyeing the bottle still discarded on the piano.

“You play?” I opt to change the subject – and divert his attention away from the brandy again.

He shakes his head, glaring at the keyboard. “I guess. Mom used to…she was good at it, too. She thought me how to play, but hey. Playing the piano isn’t really the trademark Stark forte. Didn’t get to practice much…so now I’m just abusing this poor thing with my lack of skill whenever I feel like waking up the neighbors with broken as fuck Chopin.”

“Can’t be the judge of that. Never heard your broken as fuck Chopin,” I shrug and consider it a win when Tony laughs in response and waves at the nearby chair, the bottle all but forgotten.

“Grab a front row seat then, Sarge!” he offers.

I walk over to the chair and take it, but before moving it closer to the piano and sitting down, something needs to be done with this. “You can just call me Bucky, you know?”

“I will if you will,” he turns around a little to look at me, hands folded.

“You want me to call you Bucky?”

“Don’t be cute,” he conjures up an angry pout. “Besides…Bucky’s like a name for a dog. What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking five of my schoolmates were James’ so…Buchanan…Barnes...they thought Bucky was clever.”

“For a dog,” he repeats but has troubles keeping a smile from cracking his façade.

“Call me James then!” I flail and roll my eyes, trying not to indulge him too much.

“I already have a James friend,” he points out and looks thoughtful.

“You never call him James though.”

“Because it’s lame,” he mumbles and something sparkles in his hazy eyes, clearing them instantly. “For him I mean…James…sounds so old-fashioned. Might just be perfect for you,” he smirks and shuffles with the chair to a side a bit to make space for me.

“Dunno if I should be offended or not.”

“Definitely not. You will however be offended by this,” he points at the keyboard and starts playing something classical.

I suppose it’s the Chopin, but I’d never be able to tell anyway. It’s quick and melodic and…nice. So I just put the chair next to him, watching, listening.

By morning we’d moved to the couch to continue the random banter and eventually fall asleep.

And the dreamless slumber came again, only this time it didn’t feel all wrong, for whatever reason.

[amusoosanto-blog]

A Room, Please

It has been a long time since I have had the urge to take so many risks. I’m beginning to think that maybe I haven’t changed as much as I had hoped. Or just maybe, I’ve changed more than I could have ever dreamed possible.

This all started when I created that profile. As they say, you can’t win the Lotto if you don’t play. I’ve known for a while that I’m not happy with my current place in life: my marriage, my job, my life in whole and in parts. A little over a year ago I was not loving but I was living my happy, mediocre, Midwest-life. I was making medium income and managing a messy marriage. I met the best people, loved my job and my network was strong enough to distract from the weight of the void I was trying so desperately to avoid thinking about. It was what I had become accustomed to because to be honest, it’s what I settled for. And I knew that. When I moved from the Deep South to the Midwest, I told everyone it was for love, but deep down I knew it was to save myself. I didn’t belong there and I knew it.

Since my family moved us to the middle of Trump country, when it was still just Jesus and the Confederate Flag country, my senior year of high school, I knew what kind of shit my present and foreseeable future had in store. So I busted my smart ass and took my grades from a 1.2 my freshman year to a 3.2 my Senior year. I wasn’t stupid, I just lived in a foreign country from 8th-10th grade and happened to live it up a little too much. I passed my tests but didn’t do the homework, and didn’t show to class. Skipping class and getting into mischief suited my priorities at the time. Roaming the foreign countryside and meeting the world face to face was my passion. To my parents disappointment of course. So when we moved to the South, of all places, I knew this would be the best place to tighten up a little and find the direction I was looking for. And for a while it was exactly that....Except until it wasn’t. The first five years were straight dedication, a little bit of distraction, and very good on paper. Then heartbreaks happened. Eventually I began finding solace in other lost souls. This led to about five years of wandering through the various drug scenes as you can imagine. I tried almost everything once and most of it I liked, in moderation. But then came the time when moderation when straight out the window and I found myself in a jail cell for 2 months, praying I hadn’t fucked my life up entirely at that point. Fast forward and I am on probation. I am also unemployed. I’m back in Community College, but living at home with no opportunities, as I saw it.

That’s when he came into my life. I’m going to save that story for another chapter, because this one is a little further from the beginning of when a “Happily Ever After” didn’t seem like such a fucking laughable and obscenely misleading form of emotional torture. The lies we tell ourselves from youth are forgivable, believing them when we grow up is not. He came into my life and I accepted it wholly. I was finally ready to give something my all, and he was giving me his hand as to escape from this hellacious bubble I had found myself in. Little did I know that I was just going to be trading in one prison for another. Where could I even begin? I won’t, but let me just say that I was way too kind and way too giving, and in the end it has shown me that you can’t just save a little bit of yourself, you have to save all of yourself.

So this is chapter one of how I decided to save myself.

I met Fabio on a hook up app. I have always been more selective than most when picking my lovers. I haven’t always been able to filter out the bad lays, boring conversations or awkward encounters, but over time I’ve gotten much better as choosing wisely. There was one guy recently, before Fabio. He was conveniently located within walking distance, and on paper represents all of the qualities I am searching for in an extramarital love affair, but to be honest, he was not even close to the mark. He was juvenile in character and when he took his shirt off, you could tell he lived his 20s reliving the 90s by tattooing every inch of torso and limb on his body with all of the cliche pop culture tattoos that were popular in that entire decade: tribals, Chinese characters, alt bands, clowns, and you name it, he had it. I was more turned off by how he bragged about nine inches while only packing half of that, and he guaranteed multiple O’s that he did not deliver on. So I was already over him and looking for the next best one when Fabio popped into my inbox. The conversation was honest and brief. He had only one pic, a topless torso that was ripped and tan, with a clenched left fist. Straight up to the point, his bio mentioned discretion so I came out with that I was married and asked if he minded. He said no and that he is married too. He asked if I liked to party and in the back of my mind something registered. I was picking up the hints. I asked what he was doing and he said he was about to smoke. I asked if it was cannabis, he said no to guess again, so I guessed tobacco. He said no, again. So I said “Tina?” Not knowing exactly what I was onto but having a pretty good idea. “Bingo.” He replied.

I can’t tell you exactly how it went from there but he gave me his number, and then we texted. He told me to download an app, and I did, so we could keep our messages private and also to send some naughty pictures and videos. This went on for a couple of days then I had a day off coming up and we made plans to meet, get a room, and go from there. But I was anxious and got called in to work. I wouldn’t have gone in except that my husband and I work in the same place and he called me for my supervisor, volunteering me. So I blew Fabio off once. I thought that would have been the end of it but he still wanted to get together. Then on the next day off I got called into work again, and explained to him I was sorry, but we would make it happen. Well, finally I resolved that Monday was it, while the hubby was a work, and behold, it happened. Fabio picked me up, a few blocks from my house by a neighborhood park. I walked there and I still wasn’t sure of my decision the whole time, that is, until I got into his truck. He had a huge smile on his handsome and rugged face. He hugged me and we drove off in the direction of the back roads I knew led to the hotel. We had to be careful for many reasons. I knew half of the Sheriffs department personally and one in particular is my neighbor who’s wife and coworker who has a huge fucking mouth. Also, pretty sure crystal meth is still illegal and I knew he had that. But he touched my knee, then my thigh, then he leaned in to kiss me while the truck raced down the bending half-canopy road. I was in pure bliss. It had been over two months since my husband had initiated anything, not that it was even worth mentioning. I honestly had been craving the touch of someone else for almost a year. To hell with behaving. It was time. I let myself get lost in the intimacy and by the time we got to the hotel, I was flushed and my legs were jelly. He had such a flirtatious and electric vibe. We got out of the truck and he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his side while he ran a finger through my hair and kissed me passionately. We walked into the lobby and in an instant, my face must have dropped because his face went from cheesy grin to straight grimace. Nina! An old supervisor from like five years ago. She was perched at the check in desk in conversation with one of the housekeepers. I had seen her recently, maybe 9 months ago. She shopped at the store I work at and I was certain I told her I moved away, got married, had a house fire so “we” moved back. Yes, house fire, but that’s another chapter all together. My head was thinking “shit” but my body was like “We gonna get a room so we can fuck”. So we walked up to the counter and she immediately recognized me. As I get to the counter, she sees I have a friend with me and proceeds to say in front of her coworkers and another guest “You know we don’t rent by the hour!?” To my complete and utter shock. I’m fucking appalled. But I know this is the only hotel for 20 miles that’s anywhere within my budget. So I blow off the insult and make up an excuse, I have guests arriving and need a room. One night. I play it cool until we get the key cards and go to the truck to bring up the goodies to the room. Once we get inside, it’s on.

To be continued...