#but hes such a real ass boy. he sometimes speaks with a hint of an attempt at maturity in his dialogue but its written where like

[bmpmp3]

i really love when shoujo manga protagonists are like sweet and goofy and fun normal girls who are also haunted by horrors and traumas beyond our imaginations. like the whole:

[olivianott]

WHITE CURTAINS

ꕤ Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ part two to WHITE DRESS

ꕤ warnings: enemies to lovers, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content not for minors, 18+ please don’t kill me, I don’t speak italian

It’s 3am again. Sometime around lunch you decided that you were not going to meet Theodore tonight. But here you are, in another very thin, almost sheer floor-length dress, slowly steping down the stairs to the pool.

He is already there, thankfully, sitting on one of the big, four poster beach beds with cushions and curtains and everything.

After spending the whole day thinking about last night, replaying every touch and kiss that happened, it still feels like a dream, not real, like it wasn’t even you. But you can’t deny the desire you felt for him. And the pull you feel now. Not allowing yourself to feel pathetic about lusting after a boy that was constantly mean to you the whole time you have known him, you tell yourself that you were made to be worshipped, and yesterday Theodore looked like he was ready to do that.

His back is facing the entrance when you reach the pool area, but he turns when he hears your footsteps in the quiet of the night. You see the relief in his features. He was worried you weren’t coming. Good. His gaze then drops to your dress, all the way to the ground and his face hardens for a second. His smirk starting to match yours, he gives a little laugh: “Of course.”

“What? You think I’ll just do whatever you say? Think again. You have been nothing but asshole to me since the day we met.” You respond, with a little glare, slowly walking closer to him.

“Now now amore, you obviously don’t remember the first time we met, do you?” He grabs your chin with his fingers and makes you look into his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you, brought you a drink, and you ignored me, looking all around me searching for someone else as if I wasn’t even there. Remember? Matheo’s birthday party?”

Shit. Mattheo’s party. Of course you didn’t remember it until now. You were still in an angry heartbroken stage, pining after your ex, drunk off your ass.

Theo sees the realization dawn on your face.

“My ego was hurt. I was mesmerized by you from the first moment I saw you and you ignored me so hard, you didn’t even say one word to me. When I saw that being mean got your attention, I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, it was childish of me, I admit.”

You see a little bit of embarrassment in his eyes. Wow. So you were the asshole first.

“I was not in the right mindset at that party.” You bite your lip, and turn your eyes down instinctively, feeling a little ashamed too.

With a hand under you chin, he pulls your face up, his eyes fall to your lips, all the embarrassment gone in an instant. His thumb swipes your lip out from between your teeth. He is bold again. “You’re trying to kill me, princessa? Like last night? Salazar, the view of your body, that wet dress sticking to you. I thought I died and gone to heaven.” While he is talking, his hands travel from your face, down your neck and sides until they settle on your hips, playing with the delicate fabric of your dress.

“I hope you know I keep my promises, diavolina.” With that he fists the material and you feel it strain against your skin.

You shiver at his words, the feeling of his hands, and the promise of ruining the dress. That’s why you wore it. To spite him. To show him you are in control. But are you? With the look in his eyes suggesting he imagines you without the offending fabric, you wish you weren’t wearing it.

The air around you grows thick and heavy, it feels charged somehow.

“I have thought about kissing you since I first laid eyes on you at that party,” Theo says while his hand comes up and rests on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in you hair. “but kissing you yesterday? Better than anything I could have imagined.” You feel the hint of possessiveness in his touch on your neck and in the next second he crashes his lips against yours. He is not gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth, your whole body is on fire from his touch.

His hands travel down and settle on your hips again, fingers walking the delicate material of the longest dress you own up, higher and higher on your legs, until the length is gathered up in his fists against your hips. He does that so slowly, while still kissing you deeply and you feel like you’re gonna combust. Finally, you feel his long fingers against the skin of your thighs and you feel lightheaded.

“This ok, princessa?”

With the fog in your mind you can only nod your head at him.

“No that’s not good enough, amore, tell me that you want this with me.” Fingers on your hips tighten to the point of bruising your skin and he grabs you and sits you up on the mattress of the beach bed. He stands between your legs, the curtains flowing in the wind around you and you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you again.

“Yes, Theo, please!” His face is so close to yours and you feel delirious from the intense look in his eyes.

“Good girl.” He takes off his t-shirt, while you open his belt and fumble with a button on his trousers. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, princessa?”

Theo whispers and you love hate his smirk so much. “Asshole.” You can’t help but dig your nails in his chest. It makes him hiss and you smile at him sweetly.

Theo’s hands inch closer and closer to where you don’t have any panties on. The way his face looks under the realization makes you burn again. He looks positively feral.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” With that he scoots you further back onto the soft bed while getting on as well, hovering over your body under the night sky, curtains all around you. Your dress rolls back down over your legs and that is the last straw for him.

With a hard tug of his hands, the delicate material loses against his strength and the dress is ripped almost all the way up only hanging on its collar around your neck.

“Finally.” He breaths while already kissing the exposed skin of your thighs. Grabing your knee and pushing it up, he opens your legs before his ravenous gaze and teases you with kisses all around the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

With his eyes holding yours, he sinks his face into your core like a hungry man that he is. His tongue is working you so deliciously, murmuring and groaning and moaning into you like a man obsessed. Your body already tightening up.

“I could kiss you and drink from you for all eternity, amore, but now I’m too hungry for you.”

Coming up to hover over your almost naked body, he starts his kisses under your breasts, slowly inching higher and higher. Finally sucking on one pebbled nipple, your moans fill your ears, pressure building between your legs. When he pushes up to his knees looking over you like he can’t get his fill, you can’t help but stare at him with open mouth, too. He’s carved like an ancient statue, except for his beautiful cock that looks… heavy… is the only word that comes to mind.

“You can close your mouth now, amore.” He throws your words from last night back at you.

Suddenly his hand comes under your back and he pulls you up to straddle him, his cock aligned with your core already and you can’t help but moan loudly from the sensation.

“When you are looking at me from above like this, it’s my favorite view in the whole world, princessa.” Impatiently you push yourself onto his cock and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. But the sound he makes when you take him all the way in will forever be burned into your mind.

You hold on to his strong shoulders as you move on top of him, enjoying the sensations of him filling your pussy, his eyes burning patterns on your chest, face, his strong hand gripping your hip.

“Lord, the sounds you make. I’m not going to be able to forget those anytime soon.” His voice is raspy in your ear.

While you are lost in the clouds of bliss, he grabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back, changing the angle and causing you to arch your back, pushing your tits into his mouth.

As if floating on clouds, you feel the breeze pick up and see the thin curtains flying all around you, exposing you to the outside world, but you can’t focus on anything else, just the pleasure filling your soul.

The feeling of his cock so perfectly filling you, your wrists held behind your back with his hand, the floating curtains caressing your sensitive skin, his gaze worshipping you from below, your world shatters and you fall into your orgasm, trusting him to catch you and hold you through it.

He hugs you close when he feels your pussy clench and your body shivers subside, burying his face into your neck. You feel his short breaths, quiet growls and whimpers as he loses himself in you too.

You stay tightly entwined for a few moments, then he looks up at you and says:

“You are divine when you cum on top of me like that, principessa. I hope this is not the last time you give me the honors of seeing that look on your face, because I might be addicted already.”

I struggled a little bit with this one, but I still loved writing it. As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. 🖤

@wxnterwidow333 hope you are not crying now and thank you to everyone for the encouragement on the first part of the story. 🖤

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

Divider by me: @hereindreamlandpng

[twistedmionn]

Twisted Wonderland iceberg

Explanations ahead (slight spoiler warning)

Tier 1:

everything is self-explanatory, I think

Tier 2:

Haruhi = the protagonist of Ouran High School Host Club. She's a girl who dresses up as a boy (correct me if I'm wrong) and many players who have a female MC consider theirs to be like Haruhi. [EDIT: Thanks for the anon pointing out that I misspelled the name!]

Tier 3:

self-explanatory

Tier 4:

A fair amount of people headcanon Vil as a trans woman because he presents androgynously/feminine and doesn't care about gender roles. This has also caused discussion in the fandom because breaking gender roles ≠ trans.

Tier 5:

People sometimes wish TWST was more like a dating sim and had character/dorm routes.

Some people headcanon that Silver is based on Prince Philip (from Sleeping Beauty) and/or is a prince himself. I haven't played all of book 7 yet (only the parts out in the ENG server) so idk if the theory has been proven right.

Lilia is old and hints at dying soon.

Hot NPCs, such as Deuce's mom and Sebek's grandpa.

Ace and Deuce have expressed interest in Yuu at various points in the game.

Genshin VAs: Leona/Alhaitham, Silver/Kazuha, Idia/Razor are the ones I can think of

Tier 6:

A beastman (I think it was Jack) has stated that he has problems talking to animals, and Ruggie's talent at it is considered something special.

The tweels are considered intersex by some due to eel anatomy (I'm no eel expert).

Kalim is considered the real villain by some due to never really bothering to help Jamil.

Epel's backstory/attitude has many elements that a fair amount of trans men relate to.

There are theories that Lilia and Sebek are twisted from Peter Pan characters. I'm unsure about Silver, but I think I've read something about him being from another movie, too!

Tier 7:

Some people headcanon that Ace has experienced domestic abuse.

There's a theory that Ace will betray Yuu.

Cater has two sisters who boss him around, which is a resemblance to Cinderella.

Malleus might have two pps because well... dragon.

Epel and Deuce had a whole ass beach date. Deuce constantly cares for him and broke the school rules in order to make Epel feel better. Their scenes together (the settings) looked straight out of a shoujo manga. If Epel were a girl, this ship would be considered canon by most.

I'm not sure EXACTLY which languages Jade's VA speaks, but I do remember that he knows German.

In one of his Halloween vignettes, Ruggie — as opposed to Lilia — has indirectly expressed that he has no interest in romance/relationships.

Tier 8:

UH.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Ngl, I kinda forgot I was trying to do this in alternating POVs. That… kinda failed for a minute. Oops. But here’s Robin! And Wayne!

Part 1 | . . . | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37

“How could I have him and lose him in the same moment?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad that Robin wants to wrap him in a hug and about four fuzzy blankets and give him hot cocoa and kill whoever made him sad. Except, she thinks, that would be Eddie, which would really just make Steve even more sad-

She stops her train of thought.

“Want me to go yell at him again? It worked the first time,” she says, just a hint of a grin in her voice, and it works because Steve sounds further from tears next time he speaks.

They joke a little more, until she feels comfortable leaving him, and when he drops her off at home she barely drops her things inside before bolting to grab her bike.

She pedals hard all the way to Forest Hills. She’s about to dump her bike before she sees Wayne on the front porch, smoking, so she carefully lays it down instead.

“Afternoon,” he says.

“Hi, Mr. Wayne,” she replies politely. “Is Eddie home?”

He tells her no, that he’s gone to apologize to Steve, and invites her in for tea and a talk. She thinks for a second before mentally shrugging and accepting.

He holds the door open for her and begins talking as he grabs a mug. She’s delighted to see that the inside reads, You’ve been poisoned! and says as much.

Wayne grins. “‘S become a habit of mine, collecting these mugs. My momma always said there ain’t much a cup of tea can’t fix, and I’ve found she’s right. Plus, havin’ a fun mug lifts your spirits.”

Robin chuckles. “That it does.”

“Now,” Wayne says, turning to face her. “I’m guessin’ you’re here to kick my nephew’s ass again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sir.” Wayne makes a face. “I’ve got a good name that none o’you younguns ever uses. Call me Wayne.”

Robin giggles. “Will do, Wayne.”

Wayne nods. “Good. Now, ‘bout Eddie. You let me say my piece, and I’ll let you decide whether or not he deserves another kick in the ass. Fair?”

“Fair,” Robin agrees.

“Alright then. My Eddie’s not a bad kid, though I’m guessing you know that.” He pauses to take a sip of his tea. “Sometimes he does things without thinking them through, just like everyone. Sometimes people scare him.” Her hackles raise, and Wayne raises placating hands. “I’m not saying any of this is your Steve’s fault. All I’m sayin’ is, people do stupid things when they’ve been hurt in the past.”

Robin cocks her head. “Eddie was hurt?”

Wayne hums around another sip. “The details ain’t mine to give, but yes. He was. Just about a year ago now. I almost had a stupid reaction to what he told me.”

“What stopped you?”

Wayne shrugs. “Experience, partially. But you helped too.”

Her eyes widen. “Me?”

“Yup. See, Eddie’s real observant. So when he came t’me a few months ago, talkin’ ‘bout how he thought you were the same as him, I had an idea of the kinda person you are. No tolerance for idiots, at least those who aren’t your friends. Loyal to those who are. And I thought, now why would she stick around him if he’s that kinda person? And I came to the conclusion that he’s not. Or he’s not intentionally. So. Pair that with the way Eddie’d been acting, and I had a pretty good idea of what was goin’ on.”

Robin nods. “Y’know what Steve said to him?”

Wayne hums. “Somethin’ bout how he’d never been with another guy?”

Robin nods again. “Exactly. And to have Eddie react like that…”

Wayne sighs and tips his head back until he’s looking at the ceiling. “Lord knows I love that boy,” he murmurs. “But he sure does know how to get himself into trouble.”

Robin grins. “And how to get himself out of trouble?”

Wayne snorts and looks at her. “Outta the frying pan, into the fire, more like.”

Robin giggles. “Yeah, I kinda got that impression.”

Just then the phone rings, and Wayne raises a brow at it, then sighs and stands to answer it, waving Robin down when she starts to stand as well,

“Munson residence, y’got Wayne.” He hums. “Wayne’s just fine, son, none‘a that Mr. Munson crap. She is, I’ll hand it over in just a second. My nephew apologize to you yet?” A grunt. “Good. Here she is.” He waves her over, and she hurriedly swallows a sip of tea before hopping over to the phone. “Steve?”

“Hey. The little shit found Dart.”

Robin breathes out a laugh. “Jesus. D’we gotta kill it and live with his sad face now?”

“That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.”

“Okay, so which one of us is gonna tell him?” She asks, in a tone that means it’s gonna be Steve.

He laughs, “well I’m not gonna tell him.”

“The fuck you’re not,” she argues, “you’re his second mom, dingus, it sure as shit ain’t gonna be me.”

He squawks, “I am not his-”

She hangs up on him with a satisfying click and a smug grin.

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[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Three: Bad Timing

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: It's that time of the month and some new innocent boisterous visitors to the house don't make it any easier, in addition to you still being muddled over Robert's behavior.

Word Count: ~5,128

Warnings: Descriptions of menstruation, period stereotypical gender roles, some angst, nightmares, infidelity hints, age gap, slight daddy kink (sorry not sorry)

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy (especially this chapter as the children and their mother are my made-up characters), and this is essentially AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer.

Part One

Part Two

Tag list: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman @uniquetacofun

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know.

It happened midmorning, the familiar feeling of a bloom of crimson staining your panties as you were in the process of pouring out a full bottle of wine in the sink since you decided to purge all bottles of it from the house. Robert wouldn't be that upset; he was not extremely fond of wine and you couldn't trust it to make you feel happily drunk, for it seemed to have the opposite affect and you refused to succumb to the negativity, plus being compared to Katherine didn't help matters.

You left the bottle in the sink for the time being and hurried off to the bathroom, uncomfortably aware of the leaking blood and you pulled down your skirt and panties, frantically searching for the box of sanitary napkins tucked under the sink and once you retrieved a fresh pair of underwear from the closet, you affixed one in and groaned at the incoming cramping beginning to pulsate through your lower abdomen. You were glad Robert was not around to witness, although he had always been supportive and understanding, men in general tended to be peculiar about menstruation and sometimes you couldn't blame them; it was an intimately awkward pain in the ass.

You popped in a painkiller pill from the medicine cabinet and went back to the kitchen sink, staring down at the vibrant red splash of wine; a parallel to what just began for you. So maybe last night had not been just you overreacting from alcohol after all... As you uncorked the second bottle, it then occurred to you that this was an awful waste and you stopped, setting the wine on the counter and sighing. Maybe keeping a few around wouldn't hurt, especially when company came over... You'd just have to practice self control, that's all.

Around midday (lunchtime for most people), Robert dropped by, but he certainly wasn't interested in eating and only came to retrieve his hat and a briefcase, casting a quick cautious smile your way as you were sitting at the kitchen table, intent with studying for your nursing degree. At least that took your mind off your bleeding and the cramps had numbed from the painkiller, making the day bearable.

But around two o'clock, you heard a loud unexpected knock at the front door and startled, pushing aside papers and an anatomy book to go greet whomever it could be.

The mother, Mrs. Thompson, whom you'd discussed babysitting her two young boys on the first day here was there with them standing on the front step. Her children Duncan and Douglas were close in age, around three and four respectively and nearly twins; strikingly similar in appearance with their matching towheaded short hair and big brown eyes set in cherub faces.

You hadn't expected them so soon and it must have shown on your face because she was instantly apologetic, speaking hurriedly.

"I'm sorry if this is an inconvenient time, but I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to watch my little boys for a few hours as we talked about?"

"Oh, sure, I did promise to after all," you replied courteously.

"I'd be appreciative. It's my tentative first half day on the job and they don't have the daycare in operation yet, so it's been rather hectic and of course my husband works at the lab, so he can't babysit."

"Of course. Now what time do you think you'll be able to come pick them up?"

"Six o'clock, but we usually eat at five for supper and they tend to get so cranky and peckish, so-"

"I'll feed them, don't worry," you offered and her eyebrows shot up.

"Are you sure? I'd be so grateful if you could. Oh, and if you tend to have trouble telling them apart, just remember this: Douglas is the older one with more vocabulary and about two inches taller."

She touched the tops of their heads and bent to peck each one's cheek quickly before straightening up, giving them directives.

"Boys, please behave for Mrs. Oppenheimer and Dougie, look after your brother. Mommy will come back soon, okay?"

They nodded distractedly and then bolted off into the house curiously, already taking in this new environment and starting to chase each other around the living room. Mrs. Thompson shrugged with an exhausted laugh.

"Well, as you can see they are the opposite of timid. They can entertain themselves for hours, but that's just the problem; they just give each other endless energy!"

"I'll do my best to keep them in line and safe," you told her assuredly before bidding goodbye and closing the door, taking a deep breath and moving to sit down on a chair in the lounge, where the boys had stopped racing and were quietly exploring the space, peeking on tiptoes at the bookshelves and out the windows. You watched them bemusedly, not accustomed to children very much and they almost reminded you humorously of puppies as they wandered about and began to chase each other, a game of tag it looked to be with Douglas tapping his little brother on the back and then racing off to the other side of the room with a laugh.

"Be careful," you called out as Duncan bolted after him, bumping into the furniture along the way. It took a few minutes for you to relax and adjust to their energy, and while they were busy tagging each other back and forth, you went to retrieve the papers and books from the kitchen to continue studying, but unfortunately your headache was coming back stronger with fatigue and you really had to use the bathroom, but worried if you left them unsupervised, would they get into mischief or accidentally ruin anything? Your head kept throbbing and so you leaned back to rest your eyes just for a moment... Until a shattering crush made you gasp and you saw a guilty faced Duncan standing at the foot of a smashed vase on the floor. His older brother quickly apologized and sat down to pick at the pieces, but you rushed to take over so he wouldn't hurt his hands on the sharp shards of pottery, telling both of them to go sit down now. They obeyed, clamoring up onto a chair and swinging their legs, pouting.

"Alright you two, this is your first warning. If you break something else, I'll have to tell your mother about it," you warned, but they only gave you doe eyed innocence that made you feel a little better. You plowed through for a couple hours, taking one bathroom break and then helping Duncan with his own potty break before there was a noise at the front door at four-thirty. The boys perked up and ran to it, presumably thinking it to be their mother even though she wasn't supposed to be back until six. You heard Robert's surprised voice and entered the hall just in time to see little Duncan run straight into his legs, bouncing off and appearing confused as he staggered backwards.

"Daddy?" he asked, craning his neck upward and face falling when he saw a different man.

"Oh dear, I certainly hope not," Robert chuckled with wide eyes as he gently maneuvered around the little boy and you walked to meet him with a smirk.

"Daddy, hmm?"

He nearly flushed and glanced away as you looked down, allowing Duncan and Douglas to go play outside in the yard for awhile.

"Just stay on the grass and by the window where I can see you both," you instructed firmly and Douglas nodded, taking Duncan's hand and dashing out the open door as you looked back to Robert, still smiling.

"I kind of like the sound of 'Daddy' for you."

His eyebrows twitched in perplexion and he held up a finger, speaking with uncertainty.

"I thought we agreed to hold off on raising any children - of our own that is - until later? Or have you changed tunes already?"

You reached for his tie, giving it a teasing tug and cocking your head, playing up to his confusion.

"That's not what I meant, darling. I think you do something to me when referred to as that... Don't you think daddy has a nice ring to it when spoken in my voice, though?"

He gave you a strange look, but smiled amicably.

"I, well, I suppose it's... interesting. You continue to surprise me and nourish my expanding knowledge of various feminine desires, so I thank you for that, my love." He walked away towards the living room and you trailed behind, unsure of quite what to think of that response.

"How long have they been here, the children?" Robert asked while setting his briefcase down to the floor and you causally glanced at your wristwatch.

"About a couple hours, Mrs. Thompson dropped them off at after two o'clock."

"Well, you must have your hands full," he remarked.

"It's been easy," you half lied, knowing that broken vase was very minor loss but you weren't completely sure of what you were doing, not being an expert babysitter, and you still had to make a somewhat kid friendly dinner.

He just nodded, walking over to the large window panes and staring out at the yard, where the boys were chasing each other around a pine tree and then Douglas crouched down, pretending to shoot at his brother with a little finger gun and Duncan copied him, dodging invisible bullets. You joined Robert's side and observed unsmiling as you considered how males have such an inherent tendency towards violence, even during mock play. It spoke volumes about the tragic times you were living in and how it all was filtered down to children.

"I'm sick of all the fighting, Robert," you commented sadly and he made no expression.

"We live in a volatile planet," he replied flatly and you pursed your lips, turning away.

"That doesn't mean I have to embrace it."

"You don't; it just takes you instead, a pacifist as prisoner."

"I'm about to start dinner, would you like to help for once?" you changed the subject with a snap and he clenched his jaw, following you to the kitchen where you fumbled with pots and pans, gathering ingredients for a simple chicken with mashed potatoes and side vegetables dinner. Robert pulled out the cans of peas and carrots from the cupboard and took his time with the can opener, muttering under his breath about explosive versus implosive and you side eyed him, asking him if everything was alright.

"Yes, fine. Only conversing with myself," he answered with a thin grin and you shrugged, beginning to cook and deciding to leave out ample amounts of spices on the chicken because of the children's likely tender taste buds.

The boys came in a few minutes later and you noticed dirt and dust all over Duncan's front and Douglas had filthy hands as well.

"How did you two get so dirty? I told you to stay on the grass," you exclaimed exasperatedly and they ignored this, distracted by the dinner preparation and you had to shoo them away from the stove.

"Can we have porridge?" Douglas asked hopefully and you stared, amazed at how children's thought processes work.

"No, that's for breakfast only. It's dinnertime."

"Cereal?" Duncan added hopefully, licking his upper lip and you shook your head, looking to Robert who wasn't paying much attention and fixated on spooning out the canned vegetables into a saucepan.

"Mac 'n cheese!" Duncan suddenly shouted, beginning to hop up and down while his brother added to this impromptu guessing game.

"Hotdogs? Momma makes us hotdogs, they're my favorite!" he exclaimed as you walked over and took their small arms, marching them out to the bathroom to clean up. You can't do much about Duncan's soiled shirt other than a wipe down, for there were no clothes in the house that would remotely fit him and you hoped his mother won't be upset.

When you came back to check on the cooking and having sent the boys back to the living room with a stack of blank papers to draw on with pens from Robert's study, you smell smoke - and not the usual odor from cigarettes. The pan of chicken is burning and Robert is nowhere in sight.

"Dammit!" you cried, furious at him for carelessly and bizarrely abandoning the hot stove, and you rushed to pour a cup of water on the pan, creating a loud hiss and puff of smoke and vapor. The chicken was too blackened for consumption, so you tossed it out bitterly before going to mash up the potatoes. You felt a tug on your skirt and you glanced down, seeing Douglas looking up at you, his tiny chubby hand clutching the hem of your skirt.

"I need to go potty," he declared, hopping from foot to foot and you sighed in frustration, taking his hand and leading him down the hall once again to the bathroom and making sure he could go by himself before returning back to the kitchen, where now the vegetables were becoming overcooked mush.

"Fuck," you muttered, hurriedly removing them and dumping forkfuls onto plates. You jumped at the sound of Robert behind you and you glared at him as he looked visibly distracted.

"Thanks for nothing! We almost had a kitchen fire because you went off to who-knows-where while I was cleaning the boys up in the bathroom," you chastised and he closed his eyes briefly, stressed and guilty.

"I'm sorry, I had to run through a calculation and I thought it would be fine to leave it for a minute as long as you were coming back," he explained and you scoffed, thinking that as no excuse.

"You should know better than to leave a stove unattended, even for a few moments. And you know, this is absurd. When are they coming to finish the kitchen? If we're going to host, we'll need a bigger space."

"Don't worry, they'll be working on it and I'll fix this." He moved to take the saucepan from you and ladle out the rest of the soggy veggies. You took a seat at the table, plunging your sore head into your palms just as Douglas came wandering back in, whining.

"I'm hunnngry, Mrs. Oppen-hemmer..."

"Oppen-heimer," Robert corrected over his shoulder with a smile and you rubbed your face, standing up.

"It'll be just a minute, how about you please have a seat to wait, alright? And where is your brother at?"

"Potty," Douglas replied and you gave Robert a glance.

"Can you go fetch him and leave the food to me?"

He gave a curt nod and left the room while you took the last chicken breast left and placed it in the pan to sizzle. Thankfully it didn't take too long and you were grateful your husband was dealing with one child while the other waited, watching you curiously and kept asking if he could have ketchup, presumably for the chicken.

"Just about ready?" Robert's voice made you turn to see him with Duncan toddling in, hanging onto the cuff of Robert's sleeve.

"Did he wash his hands?" you asked and Robert nodded again in affirmative, helping the kid onto a chair. You set out their plates and once everyone was seated, the boys dug in clumsily (Duncan was definitely the messier one and you tried to help him with cutting up the chicken), but in all considered, they were fairly civilized; their mother taught them well for their age.

Robert meanwhile was quiet, neglecting a smoke as he actually ate most of the food on his plate instead and you wondered if you should have young guests over more often if they influenced him to make a better impression of an appetite.

"So how do you all like it? Good?" you asked them towards the end of the meal.

"Yummy," Duncan said while Douglas vigorously nodded with a closed stuffed mouthful and Robert smirked, gently nudging your ankle under the table with his foot.

"It's delicious as is anything you put your culinary talents to is."

"Even though it burned initially and these vegetables are a tad overdone?"

"Perhaps we should try barbeques then," he suggested, the tip of his shoe suggestively tickling your stockings and you twitched in your chair, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"I'm glad you all are satisfied."

When the boys finished, you took their plates to wash out at the sink and Robert told them to go to the living room to play. He came close, grazing your shoulder and feeling around your skirt, but you flinched away from his touch and he frowned, taken aback.

"Not now," you murmured and he backed away, retreating from the kitchen as you finished the dishes, joining the others in the main room a while later, and immediately noticing Duncan posing in front of the fireplace with Robert's tobacco pipe sticking out from his mouth. You quickly swiped it out from him while your husband only laughed as he was seated on a chair in front of the boy, clearly entertained.

"That's for grown-ups only, young man," you chided seriously (with a scoff at Robert for encouraging this) and he giggled sheepishly before getting distracted by his older brother tackling him from behind. They wrestled on the rug before getting up and Duncan attempted a handstand which ended with him falling back down with a flump to his bottom. Douglas giggled and you could only shake your head in amusement as you sat down on the sofa, Robert abandoning his chair to join you with a sigh, tucking an arm around your body as he watched the boys, displaying a pondering expression.

"I don't recall Frank and I ever being that rambunctiously cheerful at their size," he remarked softly.

"Well, from what I've heard, you were a rather unique child."

"I was sickly often; these boys are as healthy as horses."

"Well, besides that. I doubt those two will be giving a formal presentation to the New York Mineralogical Club on geology at age twelve, although you never know."

"True, but look at them; they have such modes of sensory perception and imaginations that are lost on us adults. What if they could solve the most complex problems with simplicity?"

You leaned your head tiredly onto his shoulder as he rubbed your forearm, the cramps returning and you had the thought that you wouldn't entirely mind skipping periods for pregnancy... but child rearing full time was daunting and you weren't ready for it even though the mere thought of such breeding such domesticity with Robert made you a bit weepy... or maybe it was just the period swinging your hormonal emotions about. But there is still a bright flash of reality; wasn't this how modern life, the human experience, was meant to be and what awaited you in the future if you had Robert's children?

You glanced at him, trying to read his contemplative expression. Was he thinking similar family thoughts and reflective of his own childhood, or was he only pondering his work, scientific equations, the war, or even... Jean Tatlock? You hoped not on the latter. He could be difficult to read most times, on a different wavelength from the rest of humanity and you considered yourself one of the few people in his life that felt only a minor alienation from his brilliance and knew to leave him there in his mind, for it was his true home until he orbited back to the present with everyone else.

Duncan climbed up onto the sofa, yawning widely and his brother joined a second later, scooting to your side and his chestnut orbs looked up at you with a hint of longing.

"I miss Momma," he whispered and you glanced at the clock on the wall that showed a quarter to six.

"She'll be here soon," you told him comfortingly and sure enough, not five minutes past six o'clock, there was a rap at the door. Robert stood up as you urged Douglas off the sofa and went to awkwardly scoop up his sleepy tuckered out little brother in your arms, carrying him to the door. Mrs. Thompson was relieved and so were you as you handed her youngest son off into her arms (he was heavier than he looked!) and Douglas hugged her legs happily. She thankfully didn't seem to notice or care that they weren't spotlessly clean.

"You two are so gracious, I can't thank you enough."

"No need to, we are glad to be of assistance," Robert told her sincerely and as he invited her and husband for the soonest party, you were reminded of something.

"Hold on, I have something for you before you go," you announced to her and dashed off to the kitchen to snatch up the neck of a wine bottle off the counter from your earlier attempts of purging. You presented it to her as a gift, causing her to light up in surprised elation.

"Oh, this is a delight!"

"Take it as a token of friendship," you told her as Douglas pulled impatiently at her pant leg.

"Wanna go home," he moaned and she thanked you and Robert again before slinging Duncan over her shoulder and clutching the wine in her free hand.

"Goodnight," you and Robert both called out, and you gave Douglas a little wave as they walked down the pathway and to the road. You slowly closed the door and Robert turned to you, brushing a strand of hair back towards your ear and you almost thought he might lean in for a kiss, but then he moved away, occupying himself with lighting a cigarette instead.

Later that night when you both are laying awake in bed, he seemed to sense something was up as you were curled with your back to him, riding the waves of aching pain shooting through your lower abdomen and back, waiting for the second painkiller pill to kick in while feeling mildly depressed. His hand warily made contact with your shoulder and you stirred, rolling over to face his concern.

"What is so wrong? Is it because of those boys? It was very considerate of you, but we don't have to have them over again for awhile."

"No, not at all, it's not their fault. I've been dealing with my cycle that began this morning and it's been rather... difficult on top of whatever is happening with our relationship."

Realization dawned on him and he adjusted the sheets, cocooning you and him closer together.

"I suppose tonight isn't an appropriate night for any activity then?" he asked knowingly and you shook your head, but moved into his body, fingers needlingly grasping his night shirt and he put a hand to your hip, stroking your butt and crotch soothingly.

"Cramps?" he asked in a hushed voice and you only nodded, closing your eyes.

"Let me help," he offered and you shifted to allow his hands to massage into your lower stomach and thighs, making you squirm at the kneading pressure.

"Just let Daddy take care of you, alright?" he whispered huskily into your hair and the blush inflamed your cheeks, making you twist your neck to meet his seductive eyes.

"You understand it?"

He only shrugged, nonchalant.

"It's unusual and I feel a bit perverted for using such a term for romantic purposes, but I suppose there is psychology behind it."

You stayed quiet, letting him do rhythmic circles into your skin and if you didn't feel so raw and achy, you'd be wholly aroused to high heaven.

"Were there any calls today?" you asked curiously in a casual tone, testing if he'd tense, but his fingers remained steady and relaxed as they gently rubbed into the folds of your skin.

"There won't be any for a while," he answered and now you were the one ending up tense.

"A while? What does that mean?"

Robert exhaled heavily, blowing his warm smoky breath to your forehead.

"I can't guarantee there will never be further word during the duration of our stay here. Two, three years can feel like eternity and she may still love me."

"Then she'll just have to move on. You need to get your head straight and devote your energies here to work, to life with me, not back in Berkeley."

"I intend to and I will, but Jean knew me like no other and she sees me as an incomparable love. She hasn't seen any other man since me."

"That's not what you should ever tell your wife," you muttered bitterly, hating that he was making this sound as if this was all her fault.

"Every affection I have for various women is different. You happen to be my life partner, an equal for the long journey, and I would never replace that. But Jean doesn't have what I do and one never forgets their first brightest flame."

"Must be nice to have a list of lovers to pull from. I don't care what she thinks, I care about what you feel. What is Jean to you alone?"

He didn't answer for a long while and finally you tilted your head to gaze at him with a frown.

"Answer me, Robert."

He licked his lips and spoke very softly, fondly.

"She was a possibility and then I found you and my world was altered. I knew I had to marry you instead and I did, didn't I?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No, never. There is only one Aphrodite in my universe and that is you, my love. No one else compares."

You bit your lip, refusing to tell him about the information you were given from his own secretary yesterday. Besides, you had no solid proof of that note anymore, just hearsay that he could deny, and as much as it pained you to shove this issue under the rug, you had to in order to protect your husband.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"For...?"

"All the bad timing and for being a mess through it, I suppose."

"You can't control it."

"I know, but..."

"But what?" he asked pressingly.

"What's happening to us? It's this place, I think there is just something about living here, it feels..." you trailed off, unable to dress up your emotions with words that would be tailored enough to fit the frustrated mood.

"Los álamos, the poplars," he stated abruptly and you blinked.

"Okay, what of that?"

"On the banks of the Acheron river of the Underworld, they were resurrected pillars of death-"

"You're citing Greek mythology again, aren't you?" you interrupted and he suppressed a chuckle.

"Yes, I am. Do you suppose we are living in our own version of the underworld here at Los Alamos? We have departed from the living in some fraction, rowing down such a proverbial river to Hades, outcast by the great Zeus..." he trailed off, sounding nearly emotional at his own metaphors.

"I'm not sure about that, but I do know only you could take such natural beauty and see it doomed."

Robert was silent for a while and then he sat up, tossing the sheets off and swinging his legs out of bed and you raised eyebrows, watching as he walked out of the room to return a moment later with a journal in his hands and climb back into bed. You scooted down to rest your head in between his legs, letting him place the journal in his lap as he flipped it open, ruffling pages and you had a feeling of what he was perusing.

"I've never heard your poems read aloud before," you murmured with your eyes half shut and he shifted self consciously, hesitant.

"I'm an inferior poet, it really isn't meant or fit for oratory sharing..." he protested.

"If it's legible, read it," you ordered and he sighed, beginning to read quietly and slowly, savoring every word.

"It... It was evening when we came to the river with a low moon over the desert that we had lost in the mountains, forgotten, what with the cold and the sweating and the ranges barring the sky..."

His voice gradually lulled you to a sleepy state and as he read the last line - "We didn't look back at the mountains" - you dozed off to muddle through dreams that were of strange visions of white pine trees extending into skeletal fingers scratching at the cobalt sky, shadows dancing down darkened corners in hallways as you ran, running towards the haunting sounds of children crying, but you never could get there to comfort them... and then you wondered if you were not aching to get to them, but far away. Glancing down, you saw a pair of shoes but no feet filling them, and you realized were as empty as a ghost; no body propelling anything forward as though there was no sense in motion at all. You opened your mouth to scream, but of course there was no existing voice in your throat...

You abruptly woke up with a jolt sometime in the witching hour of the early morning tinged in a sticky sweat and saw that Robert was out cold on his back, his journal having slipped from his clutch to lay facedown on his stomach and you very carefully picked it up to place it on the bedside table before exiting to the bathroom to change out your pad and fill a hot water bottle, and then you grabbed a thin blanket and sat down in a chair, straddling the warm rubber in between your thighs and wrapping the blanket around your chilled frame, watching the moonlight track ever so slowly across the wood floor as a hour gradually ticked by. You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, ruminating on Robert's poem (which now you barely remembered from the lack of consciousness) but that one last line lingered on your tongue.

"We didn't look back at the mountains."

It seemed symbolic to how you felt about the past with his ex-lovers and wishing he would learn to face forward in the saddle with you and focus on the horizon instead of taking trips back into old forays. Or maybe you had to be the one to move on from all the doubts and let this go because surely a marriage couldn't survive on such strings of sad suspicion, of done summits. Besides, he had more important mountains to conquer here, whether this location be just an expansive landscape in the American Southwest originally belonging to the Indians, or a version of the infamous "Underworld" that was imitating Robert's love of such old folklore.

Hell, this was only the beginning.

Thanks for reading, this one was interesting to write especially with adding the children in and they may come back later on. Next chapter though will definitely be more smut focused ❤️

[hausofmamadas]

FRENCHIE | Queer!Mode, Detected

The Boys, Season 1, Ep 2 - Cherry | Season 2, Ep 3 - Over The Hill With the Swords of A 1000 Men, 6 - The Bloody Door’s Off, 8 - What I Know | Season 3, Ep 3 - Barbary Coast

∴

I’ve seen a lotta chatter in The Boys fandom (mostly on Reddit but also TikTok. Appropriately this take wasn’t on Tumblr much) that ppl were mad at Kripke and Co for taking an unforeseen “gay turn” with Frenchie’s character in S4 ..? And I’m over here with my Sherlock Holmes cap and pipe and tiny detective notebook just

trying to understand how these ppl didn’t pick up on the bipan vibes from this beautiful, majestic, so-French-he-can't-help-it butterfly.

(Also all this hand wringing about Frenchie "turning gay," te lo juro me esta eloqueciendo alaverga. Like canwenot with the bi-erasure, it’s giving Ashley telling Maeve she’s a lesbian bc is more “clear-cut” and easier to sell than bi. It’s just as insulting to call a bipan person gay as it is to call them straight. And I don’t mean like the use of gay as a catch all that a lotta us queers use sometimes interchangeably for queer, I talkin ppl acting as tho bipan isn't real and/or thinking Frenchie jumped out the closet as a gay man 3/4 of the way thru the show.)

And their confusion over this has got me confused. Like I didn’t even realize it was such a plot twist until I got on Reddit and a lotta ppl were screaming like Ned Stark's head just got cut off, or like it's some wild-ass writer's room shenanigans where the character is suddenly a diff person for no discernible reason. Like have you seen this man? Do you know where you are? Bc they’ve been dropping hints throughout the show. Case in point:

a) Little Nina and all that talk about her Sergei ahem it's Serge and his overwhelming enthusiasm for butt stuff and Vincent Cassel try to convince me Sr. Cassel wasn’t a childhood crush of Frenchie’s or someth and that’s why it’s his safe word. You can’t

b) this time he planted a fat smooch on Hughie’s face after finding out he leaked the compound V tip to the press (bonus points for his attempt to make out with mm before getting a no-homo hard pass)

c) this deep, abiding love of The Golden Girls this is unequivocally the gayest thing on the list

d) how he turned tricks in mad NYC before Little Nina locked that mf in a chastity belt and held him hostage by his penis he went to ‘work’ for Nina. -> Disclaimer: this is not to imply that queer ppl’s participation in sex work is bc they’re hypersexual. This is here to point out queer coding, as lgbtqia+ ppl are more at-risk for mental health issues stemming from severe trauma, food and housing insecurity, and addiction, often without access to the care they need to recover. So sex work becomes a viable vocation to survive bc unlike a regular 9-5, it’s more conducive to untreated mental health issues and substance use also it’s an easier market to get into than arms dealing or contract killing

e) this throuple arrangement btwn him, Cherie and Justin

f) His attempts to…er broaden mm’s horizons ?

g) the evident lack of knowledge or interest or acumen for this mysterious sportsball of which mm speaks of but he’ll still go on that dumb golf bachelor trip bc he loves his fraaand

h) this fondness for Eurotrash raves and dancing

And look, I might get it if they sprung it on us. But this shit has been since the beginning. The earliest indicator being ep 2 of S1 — THE FIRST EP HE’S IN. Hughie asks what it’s like to kill someone and Frenchie waxes poetic about his first hit (just before ominously dropping, "I carry them all with me" buried the lead on that one to Hughie's horror but to the delight of bbygirllovers like myself everywhere) and well, I think the evidence here speaks for itself

Like the dichot— nay, Bichotomy of talking about how mindblowingly hot this chick is whilst, in the same breath, gushing over her outfit. Okay I’m sure there’s a token straightmale who can id high-end designer brands on sight. I’m sure that unicorn exists somewhere, right, cuz humans contain multitudes. But this man? He just a bipan butterfly. So those who felt blindsided by Frenchie gettin’ dicked down, oh you beautiful, naive, sophisticated newborn babies. If not spelled out, it was so heavily implied, I saw the fling with whatshisname with the murdered fam whose name I’m too lazy to Goog and was like, “hm yes, the math is indeed mathing, these calculayshuns are correct”

Like u thot a mf dressed like this??? was straight ?

Mans is in a scoopneck bunny crop top that looks straighr from the juniors section of Forever21 with plaid pants and fuckingsjs suspenders iconic so to think he'd nary tarried in sausage-central before, well ... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

═

taglist: @drabbles-mc, @complete-nonsequitur, @rerorero-my-cherry, @ladygoatee, @tofuwildcard, @tinylittleobsessions

[jeanniebug623]

So, this wasn’t really planned……..but I’ve gotten a handful of requests for a follow-up to Sixteen. Like how Spider would respond, how would he and Quaritch get past it, all that jazz…….🕷️🦅

To all those who asked, this one’s for you! Maybe some of the inspiration to write this one will help with the others. Enjoy, internet darlings! 🐞💙

Sixteen Point Five

Minor TW: Mention of Previous Child Abuse/Corporal Punishment

“Sinking sand.”

The bored tone in Spider’s voice didn’t give the recoms any hint that they were walking into a potentially dangerous situation. Lopez and Ja let out a string of cursing after they jumped over the root the teen was taking the high ground on to instantly be up to their waists in thick, sticky mud. The sight was comical, but the kid didn’t crack a smile at the sight of two lab-grown meatheads with guns.

He hadn’t smiled in weeks…

Though his wounds had healed on the surface, Spider’s pride was still bleeding from the night he failed to escape Quaritch. Sometimes he would wake suddenly to ghosts of pain from the sixteen lashes he got or echoes in his head from the sound the reed made as it cut through the air and snapped against his skin. The colonel made good on his promise of the consequences of taking off…a promise Spider admittedly didn’t expect to be fulfilled.

Spider sighed and crossed his arms, raising a judgmental eyebrow and said, “I said there was sinking sand.”

”Speak English, you little punk!” Ja snarled as Mansk and Zdinarsk helped the pair out of the quicksand. Honestly, they wouldn’t have completely sunk. Spider could tell by the darker color of the dirt that the excess moisture was closer to the surface. The real danger was when it looked as close to the surrounding ground. Then it was a problem. That meant the top of the pit had dried enough and the quicksand was deeper below the surface.

Quaritch pulled himself up onto the root and shook his head in disappointment at his men. He growled as his ears flicked back and ordered, “Get your asses out of that goddamn sandbox.”

”We wouldn’t be in this goddamn sandbox if the little bastard warned us!” Ja said then quickly tempered his frustration to follow up with, “Respectfully, sir.”

”Spider.” Quaritch snapped, turning his angry glare on the teenager.

”I said there was sinking sand!” The teen retorted, “It is not my fault they did not understand.”

The boy’s stance was guarded. His arms were still crossed across his chest but the way he shifted his weight to the back foot told Quaritch he was primed to dart away. He’d been like this ever since…that night.

The colonel remembered the guilt that grew as he watched the boy limp back to camp with his tail between his legs after his little escape attempt. The kid, who’d shown no interest in wearing human clothing, immediately fished the tank top Quaritch brought in the off chance he’d change his mind out of the recom’s pack and hadn’t taken it off since. At least not with anyone around. Wainfleet checked on the kid once when he was washing himself up in a river and immediately put it back on.

”Spider, when there’s a threat, I expect you to deliver a warning the squad can understand.” Quaritch commanded while doing his best not to sigh with exhaustion, “You readin’ me, boy?”

”What happened to going Na’vi? Speaking the language?” Spider responded, ready to pounce away if the motherfucker tried to grab him.

”Don’t be a smartass!” Quaritch snapped, understanding most of what he’d said back. Despite the choice of words, the normal bite of sarcasm in the teen’s voice wasn’t there. At first, Quaritch thought the lesson kicked in and Spider was being compliant. He hadn’t argued and gone out of eyesight. The guilt he felt for going too far with the boy disappeared when he thought himself successful in disciplining the boy. But it returned tenfold a few days later when he attempted to check on the boy’s recovery…

Quaritch simply wanted to see the damage to make sure there were no infections, but Spider had practically jumped out of his skin when the colonel lightly grabbed his arm and started to lift up the back of the shirt. He knew there was still bruising, he could see it on Spider’s shoulders. But he didn’t get to see the places where the skin had broken because Spider rounded on him with a cracking hiss. It wasn’t the usual savage response with anger and ferocity; it was a broken hiss made in fear.

Before Spider collected himself and stomped off to avoid further embarrassment, Quaritch could see something he didn’t expect. Sure, he knew Spider would be angry with him for teaching him a well-deserved lesson. But in that brief moment, the recom saw that the boy was afraid of him. That wasn’t…he never meant to…

From that day on, he kept his distance from Spider. Because even if he walked too close, Quaritch could see the kid tense up and check his corners to make sure he wasn’t blocked in. That he could get out of arm's reach if he had to. It was never Quaritch’s intent to make the kid scared of him…he just wanted to get him in line and know who was in charge.

Spider’s guidance for the recoms had gone from fun and games to a trial by fire. He hadn’t spoken any language other than Na’vi. Warnings, like the quicksand, came in the moment and resulted in some sort of consequence. Nothing too dangerous. Yet. Half the squad were itching up a storm for three days after making their way through a patch of ferns that Spider opted to avoid and go through sharp thorny flowers instead. The kid got some nasty scratches, but at least he didn’t break out in horrible rashes all over his body like the others.

Spider let out a sigh as he dropped his arms to his sides. He just rolled his eyes and turned to continue along the root. The quicksand was just another tally on the scoreboard for the snarky teen, but he wasn’t enjoying it. To say he was miserable was an understatement. He hated the recoms…especially his undead deadbeat father’s clone. For a lot of reasons…but he had sixteen, technically seventeen, reasons of his own. Not just the shit the human Quaritch had done in the past or how roughly his friends were treated when they got caught…

He knew he was on a short leash. But the longer he spent with them, the less he cared. And the less he cared…the more he wanted to destroy them even if that meant he went down with them…

They stopped to make camp shortly after getting Ja and Lopez out of their quicksand because their gear, specifically their firearms, needed to be cleaned. They dropped their packs by a steadily flowing creek and started about their duties. Setting up the tarps, checking the perimeter, collecting firewood…Spider stayed out of the way and sat on the water’s edge until he started to get dark.

”How’s your O2, kid?” Quaritch asked, standing a few feet behind him.

Spider glanced down at the exopack then back forward, watching the small crests of shifting water and said quietly, “I will live.”

The teen heard the recom sigh. A tightness pulled in his chest as he heard leaves being crushed under heavy combat boots as Quaritch walked over and crouched next to him to look for himself without making physical contact. He might make it until morning. Of course, the panic flooding his system would make his heart beat faster and quicker breathing would empty the O2 tank quicker.

“You wanna take that risk, tough guy?” Quaritch asked quietly and calmly, watching the boy’s expression from his profile.

“I’ve taken worse ones…” Spider said just as quietly.

”Ah, so you didn’t forget how to speak English.” Quaritch said with a sarcastic tone. It was a poor attempt to lighten the mood and failed miserably. The boy looked away from him as he pulled up a knee to rest his crossed arms on. “Spider.”

Nothing. No vocal or visual response.

”Spider, look at me.” Quaritch said, getting no response again. His tail flicked in annoyance but he stayed calm and said, “We gotta bury the hatchet, kid. We made a deal and you disobeyed a direct order. Ya got exactly what I said would happen. I get you’re used to just doing what you want and gettin’ away with shit, but I ain’t gonna coddle you. Don’t give me a reason to give you a whoopin’, you don’t have to be scared of me.”

Spider straightened up before turning to look at Quaritch with a furrowed brow. The boy looked confused. Was he going to have to spell it out for the boy? Before the recom could break it down further, Spider spoke up in a low tone.

”…you think I’m scared of you?”

Now it was Quaritch’s turn to look confused. The way the kid acted around him…following orders, staying in sight, jumping like a mouse in a snake pit whenever the colonel got close to him. What about that didn’t show Spider was afraid of putting another toe out of line?

”I’m not scared of you…” Spider said before narrowing his eyes and something dangerous taking over his voice, “…but you should be scared of me.”

Quaritch couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. What the hell was the kid on that was making him go loopy and spew such bullshit? Glad to know he still had some fight in him.

”Easy there, tiger, it’s ok to be scared. I put you in your place and yea, I might’ve gone too hard on ya.” The recom said, letting the relief of this snarky attitude ease his guilt. He had to admit the kid was putting on a good show of it.

”I’m not scared of you. I don’t TRUST you. Big difference.” Spider reiterated, much louder, “And you SHOULD be scared of me…want to know why?”

”Enlighten me.” Quaritch humored instead of letting his mind hyper focus on what the boy said. Not scared of him…but didn’t trust him. This felt like a worse seed for his guilt to grow from.

”You and the rest of these fucking idiots are out here to learn. To go Na’vi or whatever bullshit you were spitting before. You told me to ride along…be your mascot or translator or own personal Pandoran tour guide. But you seem to forget that this is my home. Being out here? You’re in my fucking world. There’s a lot of dangers out here in the forest…” Spider explained, each sentence dripping with more poison than the last.

”Feelin’ tough, boy?” Quaritch growled, suddenly not liking how dead-behind-the-eyes the teenager looked as he spoke. “You know what will happen if you put us harm’s way. Straight back to the lab.”

”So what?” Spider said without a sliver of care.

”That what you want?” Quaritch snapped, his ears flattening back as he called out Spider’s bluff, “You know I’m a man of my word.”

”Yea…I do…” Spider said quietly again, giving Quaritch a false sense that the boy was backing down. Until he continued and said, “But so am I. Stuck in a prison cell or lab or with you? Doesn’t make a fucking difference to me. I already said you’ll have to kill me before you get anything out of me. And I meant it…”

Quaritch silently appraised the boy. He realized his threats didn’t have as much control as once thought over the boy. The way Spider was acting and speaking? It was not the teenager he plucked from the forest that fateful night; not even the one he’d first brought with them back to the forest. This version of that boy was playing the game with his own secret rules. A chill ran up the colonel’s spine at the revelation that this was not just a child prisoner of war; Spider was now as much a threat as he was an asset.

”The most dangerous thing in this forest? Is me. I know everything out here that can kill you…and I might just let it happen…” Spider said with a hollow tone before looking forward again. “You should’ve stayed dead while you had the chance.”

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

I love him but ........

And hear me out........

Konig, my beloved

Is an absolute IDIOT

Like dhycjfsshiigvbjj

Compliments???? A simple "you look pretty" Is somehow turned into "nice face"

And omfg is this man hella clingy and he won't ask for attention he sulk and follow sneak for it sneaks sitting on the bed konigs beside them thigh to thigh BREATHING DOWN THEIR NECK, till he gets what he wants

Sneaks reading or smthin welp konigs thrown the object away AND FUCKER WONT SAY ANYTHING HE'LL SIT THERE LIKE 🧍‍♂️👀

And oh

My

Fing

God

This man is ANNOYING he'll purposely hide thing on top shelves speak in german to sneak and sneaks like

Girl wtf???

I love him

I do I swear but omg konig ffs calm yourself

König is a SAP when it comes to Sneaky.

I could easily imagine them getting ready to go out and Sneak is in the mirror kinda putting last minute adjustments on their outfit and maybe jewellery if they choose to wear any and König ends up getting caught staring. Sneak looks up at him through the mirror and laughs, turning and catching him red handed.

"See something you like?"

"Maybe..."

König's cheeks would turn pink right in front of Sneak and he'd look away for a second. Then he'd smile real wide and blurt out the first thing he could think of.

"I like your face."

"My face? What do you like about my face?"

Sneak would be giggling their ass off.

"I like seeing you concentrate when we get ready like this. When you bite your lip like that...I think its cute."

And thats the thing, no matter what silly things he comes out with, he still manages to save it. Cause when it comes to Sneak he could spend all day telling them about all the things he finds amazing about them. Even if he's a lil sassy to them sometimes ✨

-☠️-

"What do you want, hm?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

Sneak would look behind them and come face to face with their ridiculous boyfriend. They'd look pointedly down to the arms and legs that have managed to wrap themselves all around Sneak like giant snakes and immeidatley sigh. It's times like those when Sneak likes to recount their date to the museum and will always remember walking through the nature hall, specifically the prehistoric section with the massive animal model that was stood tightly hugging itself to a tree.

"You've gone Megatherium mode," they'd say, shoving him playfully.

"Maybe I just want to hold you," König would say indignantly.

"Or maybe I spent five minutes on my phone and not paying attention to you?" Sneak would laugh.

"...Well, that's certainly a theory."

"Ok, big boy. I know when to take a hint, I'll get off my phone!"

-☠️-

I could imagine them getting into a stupid tiny argument over something sooooo small. While Sneak was trying to push through it and talk to him, König would be there arms crossed shrugging and answering back in German.

"You know that I know you can speak English König, don't do this to me right now!"

"Ich fürchte, Sie irren sich," he'd sniff.

"I don't know what that means!"

And König would stand there smiling smugly continuing to talk in German while Sneak threw their hands up in defeat and gave up trying to talk their side of it.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Summer Fic Week 2023 - Day 5: Tracing Every Part of You

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Work Summary:

No powers, college AU.

Spending a day at the lake with the Avengers.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3727

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Summer Fics Masterlist.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @mcximffs @noz4a2 @rottenstyx @starmansirius @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @lanemarvels @marrigold-2002 @kathrinchek @alternativeprincess @annocaprosmaloka @thrutheburnout

Taglist info.

Notes:

Sorry it's slightly late (it's past midnight here). I haven't had as much time to edit as usual so I hope it's good.

Everyone is in college.

Warnings for overprotective/jealous/possessive Pietro, FWB to lovers, mentions of drowning, alcohol, tickling, a lot of bickering, mentions of a car accident, mentions of casual sex, these bitches suck at communicating, background Stucky and Wanda x Vision

---

Wanda and Pietro were bickering in the front seat of Wanda’s battered station wagon. She wouldn’t let him drive, since he totalled her last car, and he was sulking about it.

“It’s been three years,” he muttered, “when are you going to get over it?”

“Oh, so you’re reckless and rusty, and you want me to let you drive?” Wanda rolled her eyes.

“I took a refresher course,” he said, slapping the dashboard. “I’m a better driver now! I won’t crash!”

“That’s nice. Get your own car.”

It had been like this for the entire drive. At least they weren’t speaking in Sokovian. They only did that when the arguments got serious.

You sat forward, leaning between their two seats. “Wow, you guys sure know how to make a girl regret riding with you.”

“There was no room in Steve’s car. You had no choice,” said Pietro.

“I’m sure Bucky would’ve let me ride on the back of his bike,” you said, a hint of suggestion in your tone.

Pietro frowned. “And end up splattered all along the sidewalk, I’d bet,” he huffed.

There was a not insignificant part of you that liked to get Pietro riled up. He wasn’t your boyfriend, not by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d been hooking up with him since the beginning of the school year.

Since summer break had started, you had spent almost every day over at his and Wanda’s place. Sometimes, he’d put his arm around you, or lend you his hoody, or sit a little too close to you while you played video games on the couch. But he wasn’t your boyfriend.

He was your friend that you sometimes kissed on the porch when his sister had gone to bed early. A friend who drew patterns on your back with his fingertip whenever he got bored. A friend who had seen you naked.

He never said anything, but he always got a little grumpy whenever you talked about spending time with Bucky or Steve. You couldn’t think of a single reason that he would have to dislike Steve, so you assumed – or hoped – that it was jealousy.

You encouraged it. Maybe if you kept pushing his buttons, he’d get his head out of ass and ask you on a date. A real date, not just you blowing him in the deserted laundrette after midnight, or him going down on you in the backseat of your car.

“Don’t worry, P, you’re still my favourite,” you said, lightly punching his arm. His lips twitched.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Don’t make you leave you two by the side of the road.”

“We aren’t doing anything,” you said, raising your hands.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

The first time you’d hooked up with Pietro was on the first night you’d met. You shared a psychology class with Wanda, and you’d struck up a friendship with her. She’d invited you to her birthday party, and you’d ended up chatting with an extremely pretty, very cocky boy with bleached blond hair.

When she’d stumbled in on the two of you in Pietro’s bed later that evening, she’d practically screeched, “What are you doing with my brother?”

You hadn’t known that Pietro was her brother, but it made a lot of things make sense. The fact that it had also been his birthday should’ve clued you in, since she’d told you she had a twin.

Your friends were already waiting for you at the lake when you pulled up. Tony had brought a portable stereo, and there was a large cooler full of ice-cold beers.

You were pondering the drinks selection, but Pietro had other ideas.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Come swim with me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “In the gross lake water?”

He let a laugh. It was a sweet, musical thing that made you feel warm inside. “Why do you come to the lake if not to swim?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Ambience?”

He snorted. “What about to cool down?”

He had a point there. It was blisteringly hot in the sun, and only mildly more bearable in the shade. You were already wearing a bikini under your clothes, so it wasn’t like you weren’t prepared.

“Alright, fine.”

A grin spread across his face. “Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he shouted, and then bolted towards the lake.

“Pietro!” you shrieked, but you were already following him. He kicked off his t-shirt and flip flops as he ran. You were having more trouble with your denim shorts. You had just reached the edge of the water when he took a running jump into it.

You swore. You shed your clothes, leaving them in a haphazard pile, and waded in.

Despite the hot air, the water was very cold. You got to knee depth, and then hesitated. Your reluctance wasn’t missed by Pietro.

“Come onnnn,” he whined. “Come play with me.”

“You’re a child.”

“If I was a child, I would be splashing you right now. What I actually am is a gentleman.”

You put your hand on your heart sarcastically. “Wow. My hero.” You waded in a little deeper, and his eyes lit up. You kept going until the water was just under your boobs.

This was the hard part. “Come on, dragă. If you get it over with, I’ll come warm you up.” There was a prickle of warmth across your skin.

You took a deep breath and then plunged under the water. Even under the water you could hear Pietro whoop. When you resurfaced, his eyes were on you, a wide grin on his face. He held out a hand to you and you took it, letting him pull you into the deeper water.

“Much better,” he murmured, pulling you close. “You want me to warm you up?”

His fingers played with the string of your bikini. “Everyone is right over there,” you said, nodding towards the shore.

“Who cares about everyone? Let me take you somewhere quiet and make you feel good.”

The offer was tempting, but you had a new resolution. No more casual sex with Pietro. If he wanted you, he was going to have to work for it.

“No, thanks,” you said brightly, and turned to swim in the opposite direction.

Nat was wading in up to her thighs. As you swam up to her, she put her hands on her hips.

“Pietro is watching you like a hawk right now,” she said, a half-smile on her face. You had already filled her in on your resolution.

“Good.”

Other people were getting into the water now. You watched as Victor (although everyone called him Vision) paddled in the shallows. He had come with Tony, although you knew he and Wanda were friends, and you were starting to realise why. Pietro was the worst cockblock in the world.

Wanda was watching Vision with a fond smile on her face. Their eyes met, and she gave him a little wave. He waved back, flushing bright red.

“What do you think?” asked Nat. “Are they already boning, or are they about to?”

“There’s no way they’re already boning. He’s way too shy and I don’t think Wanda is in the headspace to make the first move.”

“What are you talking about?”

You spun to see Pietro standing behind you. The water was waist-deep for him, and he had his hands on his hips, mirroring Nat.

“It’s not polite to eavesdrop,” you said, and he huffed.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. You’re loud.”

You looked back over to the shore. Wanda was wading into the water now, wincing with every step. You knew there were some sharp stones around there. Vision offered her a hand, which she gratefully took.

When you turned back to Pietro, his jaw was very tight. “I’m gonna-” he started, but you put both hands on his chest, pushing him into the water.

He flailed around, grabbing at you, and managed to pull you down with him.

“Gross,” said Nat. She swam off to go and talk to Clint.

“What did you do that for?” Pietro growled, but he still had his arms around you.

“I’m not letting you cockblock my friend,” you said, pushing him deeper.

“She’s my sister.”

“And she’s an adult. If she wants to get dicked down by literally the dweebiest guy I’ve ever met, that’s her choice.”

He groaned. “Don’t say ‘dicked down’.” You smiled at him, innocently. His hands came to rest on your hips. “Come swim with me? Watching her talk to him makes my skin crawl.”

“He’s nice. She could do a lot worse.” You also thought she could do better, but Pietro didn’t need to know that. Besides, you were sure that no one would be good enough in his eyes for his beloved sister.

“Come on.” He tried to pull you out into the deeper water, but you stopped him.

“Nuh-uh. We’re staying right here where everyone can see us.”

His eyes glinted dangerously. “Kinky.”

You lightly slapped his shoulder. “Not like that. We’re not fucking, Pietro.”

“We’re not?”

“I know you’re used to getting what you want right away, but delayed gratification can feel so good. You should try it sometime.”

“Well, you should try being less of a tease.” His hands went straight to your armpits, tickling you. You screeched, grabbing onto his shoulders so that you wouldn’t go under.

“Pietro!” you squealed. “You’re… gonna… drown me.” It was a struggle to get the words out. You were breathless from laughter.

“I won’t let you drown, pretty girl.” He stopped tickling you. His arms wrapped around you again, holding you in place.

In spite of yourself, it felt good. Pietro’s arms felt safe.

“I can’t say the same,” you said, and then you pushed down on his head, dunking him under the water.

He came up a few seconds later, spluttering, wet hair plastered over his eyes. You were laughing. You couldn’t help yourself. As soon as he’d managed to swipe his hair out of his eyes, he splashed you.

“Demon woman,” he growled. “Trying to kill me.”

The two of you play-wrestled, tickling and splashing each other until Tony’s voice cut through the air.

“Hey! Lovebirds! If you want some of this barbecue, you’re gonna have to hurry up.”

You looked at Pietro. “I’m pretty hungry.”

“Me too.”

The two of you swam back to the shore. You were the last ones out. Most other people already had their food on paper plates, sitting on beach chairs or towels.

Wanda and Vision were sharing a picnic blanket. You could see Pietro eyeing them, weighing up whether he should go sit down with them to break up whatever was happening.

Too busy watching him watching them, you didn’t see the empty bottle until your foot rolled over it. The ground was flat here, so it slipped out from under you, and you fell forward, letting out an undignified yelp.

Bucky, who had been manning the barbecue, grabbed your arms before you could go all the way over.

“Fuck.”

“You okay, doll?” asked Bucky. He pulled you upright. “You nearly took a tumble there.”

“I’m okay. Thank you.”

“You want something to eat?”

“Yes please.”

As Bucky served some food onto your plate, you snuck a glance back at Pietro, and found that he was staring right at you. His lips were pressed into a hard line.

“What?”

“N-nothing.” He tried to modulate his expression, but he still looked upset. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Bucky handed you your plate. “Pietro? You want some?” he asked.

“Uhh…” Pietro glanced at you, and then back at Bucky. “Sure.”

While Pietro was getting his food, you decided to sit as far away with Wanda as possible. You were pretty sure Pietro was more interested in being with you than cockblocking his sister, but with Pietro, who could say?

Sure enough, as you dug into your burger, Pietro sidled up to you. You were sitting on a stump that was definitely only large enough for one person, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Pietro.”

“Sorry, dragă. Not enough seats.”

You looked over at the empty beach chair next to where Steve and Bucky were sitting, and rolled your eyes. “Right.”

“We can share, right? You don’t mind sharing with me?”

“God, you’re so fucking clingy today.”

Pietro’s face fell. He shifted off the stump so that he was sitting on the floor. He didn’t look at you as he picked at his food.

You grimaced. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. It was in line with the kind of playful banter that you and Pietro usually had, but maybe you’d hit on a sore spot.

The two of you ate your food in silence, and it was strange. You weren’t used to him being quiet. Once you were both done eating, you took his paper plate wordlessly, stacked it on top of yours and then put a rock on them so that they wouldn’t blow away.

You could feel Pietro watching you curiously. You stood up, brushed yourself off, and then said, “Come here.”

Bemused, he got to his feet. As he stepped closer to you, you put your hands on his shoulders, manoeuvring him down onto the stump. Once he realised what you were doing, he sat.

You sat down in his lap, sideways on, so that you could put your arms around his neck.

When he gave you a questioningly look, you said, “Not enough seats, right?”

He smiled at you then. “Right.” His hand rested against your hip, thumbing against your skin there.

You had to suppress a shiver. You looked at Pietro, expecting him to look cocky or turned on, but instead, he just smiled at you affectionately.

“You know…” he said slowly. “I hear there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I was thinking maybe we could… stay out here?”

“How would we get home?”

“Uh… walk?”

“What if it rains?”

“It’s not going to rain!”

“Pietro!”

“Fine, it’s fine if you don’t want to.” He closed his mouth, looking away from you, and you felt a pang of longing. You wanted to watch the stars with Pietro.

You glanced over at where Wanda was sitting. Her and Vision were side by side, looking very comfortable with each other.

“Give me a sec,” you said to Pietro. He looked confused as you walked over to where Wanda was sitting, but didn’t try to follow.

“Wanda,” you said, flopping down onto the edge of her picnic blanket. Vision pulled away from her quickly, glancing nervously around to see if Pietro was with you.

Wanda glared at you. “What do you want?”

“I was thinking that you could do me a favour, and then I could do you a favour.”

She brought her eyebrows together in confusion. “Explain.”

“You let me borrow your car-” She groaned. “Let me finish! Pietro wants to stay here tonight. If you ride with Tony and let me use your car, you can have the house to yourself.”

You glanced at Vision, who, taking your meaning, flushed again.

Wanda gave you a hard stare. She pulled her car keys out of her pocket. You reached for them, but she pulled them back.

“Two conditions. One: Pietro doesn’t drive.”

“Fine.” You’d been expecting that one.

“Two: no sex in my car.”

“I wasn’t gonna-”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” She dangled the keys in front of you.

“Right.” You took them from her. “Thanks, Wands. You’re a lifesaver.”

The rest of the group had begun packing up. The light was starting to fade.

“Hey,” said Bucky, stopping you on your way back over to Pietro. “You coming for the afterparty? Think we’re gonna get some beers in and watch movies at Steve’s place.”

You glanced over at Pietro. Although he couldn’t hear what Bucky was saying, he was giving him a hard stare.

“No thanks, Buck. Me and Pietro are gonna stargaze.”

Bucky gave you a knowing look. “Alright, doll. Have fun.”

You walked back over to Pietro and plonked yourself down in his lap. He hesitated for a second, and then put his arms around you again.

“Don’t look so sour,” you said. “Look what I got.” You dangled Wanda’s car keys in his face. His eyes lit up, and he made a grab for them, but you held them out of reach. “No way. Wanda will kill me if I let you drive her car.”

“But-”

You put your finger over his lips. “You wanna sleep here tonight or not?”

Slowly, begrudgingly, he nodded.

As your friends packed up their cars and made to leave, you said your goodbyes, and then the two of you were alone.

They had left you few a couple of beers, a bag of chips and some of the leftover barbecue. You still had Wanda’s picnic blanket, which you laid out on the dirt riverbank. Steve had even had a pillow in his car, which he was happy to lend you.

When you were finally alone, you put your clothes back on – shorts and a t-shirt and a hoody – and Pietro gave you a funny look. He was already lounging on the blanket, but he tugged on the fabric of your hoody as soon as you were in reach.

“Kind of counter-productive, don’t you think, dragă?”

“I thought we were here to watch the stars.” Ignoring his searching hands, you opened the bag of chips and offered him one. He didn’t take it.

Instead, he slid his hand under your t-shirt. “Among other things.”

“I meant what I said, P.” You grabbed his wrist. “We’re not fucking.”

He drew his eyebrows together in an expression that reminded you of Wanda. He leant up on his elbow. “Why not?”  

You rolled onto your back, stealing the pillow from where it had been lying between you. “Maybe because it’s all we ever do?”

Pietro went quiet. You could feel his gaze, hot and prickly on the side of your face, but you refused to look at him. You wondered if he was angry at you.

He took a deep breath, and you braced yourself, but his words came out very soft. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

You huffed out a mirthless laugh, staring up at the sky. It wasn’t quite dark enough to see the stars yet, but it was getting there.

“Has it never occurred to you that maybe I want something real?”

“What do you mean real? This is real.”

He touched your thigh, not sexually, but creating a bridge between you. You didn’t shake him off.

Finally, you turned to look at him. His lips were parted in confusion, eyes fixed firmly on your face.

“Well, maybe I’d like the kind of relationship where you go on dates. The kind where kissing doesn’t always lead to sex. The kind where I know you’re not gonna be off with other girls the second I’m too busy to hang out.”

His face grew red. “That was one time! And we’d only slept together like, twice at that point! It was casual! We were casual!”

You sat up so that your face was level with his. “I don’t want casual.”

He frowned. “So you think Bucky can give you that? The kind of relationship you want?”

You drew back, brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s cool. If you’re seeing him too. I guess we never said we were exclusive or anything.”

“I’m not seeing Bucky. He’s a friend.” You wondered if your efforts to make Pietro jealous had gone too far. He looked hurt, one hand pressed against his chest.

“Right, but you have, yeah?”

You shook your head. “No. Not with Bucky. And I haven’t slept with anyone but you since winter break.”

He stared at you, disbelieving. “Me neither.”

“Pietro… are we dating?”

“… Maybe?”

“Do you wanna be?”

He exhaled sharply. You scooted in closer, nose almost touching his. The longer he went without speaking, the more this felt like a rejection. Still, you held your breath.

“I’ve done this all wrong, dragă,” he murmured. “Do you want to go out with me? On a date?”

Your nose brushed against his as you nodded, and then he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in.

You were in his lap again, kissing him fervently and feeling the hot skin of his neck under your hands. It felt like he was everywhere at once, his tongue between your lips, his hands in your hair, his firm body under yours.

He rolled you over onto your back, and you felt a little breathless as he went straight for your neck. He already knew exactly how you liked it. He knew how to find and suck on that spot that would make you keen.

This time, though, when you gasped, it was for a different reason. Pietro didn’t notice. He was too busy biting your neck.

“Pietro,” you gasped, slapping his shoulders. “I saw a shooting star!”

He pulled back so that he was hovering over you. “What?”

“A shooting star. Look!”

He rolled over onto his back, but it was obviously long gone by the time he was in position. “I don’t see one.”

“You have to wait. Be patient.”

He groaned. You both knew patience wasn’t his strong suit. After about five minutes, his hand started creeping up your thigh. You put your hand on his, stopping him.

“You’re gonna miss the meteor shower,” you said.

“You’re prettier,” he said smoothly, but you rolled your eyes.

“We’re dating now, remember? You can see me whenever. You can only see the shooting stars tonight.”

He huffed, but turned back to the sky. “This is rigged, they never happen when I- Ohhh.” He gasped. “I saw one!”

His childlike glee warmed you. You rested your head on his shoulder, but he barely seemed to notice. He was too busy staring at the sky.

“They’re pretty, right?” you murmured.

“Beautiful,” he agreed.

“More beautiful than me?”

“Ehh, it’s close.”

You giggled and rolled over so that you could look at his face.

“And another thing,” you said, “you know Bucky wasn’t flirting with me, right? He and Steve have been banging since, like, the first week of college.”

“… No. I did not know that.”

---

Notes:

Preview of tomorrow's fic: Getting railed in a sundress by your dad's friend, Dmitri Antonov. Hopper!Reader.

[mrstsung]

Mortal liu kang over dumb fire god liu kang

Vent ahead. Sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cuz dumbass fire god liu kang did fucking nothing. Nothing worth a damn. Didn't change anything. All mk12/mk1 proved is they can't write god characters and they make them fucking useless. What actual divine authority do they really have?! Eldergods mean nothing. These fucking titans are the stupidest useless plotpoint. Nothing actually changes or gets done. Everyone still suffers,no matter what they fucking change?! So.....yeah....what fucking new era is called a new era,if nothing actually happens? Some characters are ruined because the dynamics are changed in a way where it's not actually the character. It's someones oc fanfic. Legitimately NOTHING CHANGES. It's legitimately mk11 2 electric boogaloo. And using shang tsung again as the main baddie? Sus as fuck. You got nothing new? You gotta use my boy as a plot point again because you ran out of tagawa money? You couldn't get him again because your script sucks! Im not being nice,im being raw and the truth is and sometimes it hurts,you could have fucking stopped nrs and made your dumb superhero injustice game like all you stupid braindead fans wanted. But noooooo! You had to continue a storyline that's been fucking dead and is done. Mk11 wrapped it up nice. Both guys won anyways. It's already hinted at. Why go any more? It's fucking done. Shang won,liu won. End of story. Bye bye. Like ffs,mk spinoff game would have sufficed. Most fans wanted a mk shaolin monks remastered. Most fans didn't want a continuation. They just were doing fun fan theories as they always do that doesn't mean we want a new fucking game or continuation. Speaking of which. What did you actually continue? There's nothing to continue. New world? Dont fucking feel like it. If it was. You wouldn't be using the same fucking bad guy. Nor same roster. Nor would you be fucking over integral parts. You'd be actually writing something new. In a new world. That isn't basically high def of the same fucking world. Rebranding your shit isn't making it new or better! It's all to put money in your ips so you can renew shit and fuck over your fanbase. Im sorry but i hope nrs gets fucked over and boon gets a thousand hammer death. For real.

Thanks for nothing boon. The game is garbage worthless,like your job.

Mk12/mk1 is bullshit because there actually is integral lore to mortal kombats world and character archs and they ruined the characters and story by trying to be "look at me,im not like other games guys!" Pick me ass shit.

But back to liu

Liu kang,when mortal. Got more shit done. Abit it was very plot convenient for him to win. Hardly any real struggles after the first fucking arch of his journey. Aka the real mk1. The last time i saw any struggle was in the mk 1995 movie. And even then that was still Hollywood,convenient win.

Like i just want a story where liu kang stays fucking mortal. And liu actually struggles and has realistic ups and downs throughout his life and heroes journey?

Still got more done. And he had fucking actual help. And friends.... as a god he made the same mistakes as raiden yet gets none of the flack. Fuck outta here. Nah liu kang as a god sucks and all who like that version of him can fuck right off

Also that fusion bullshit that happened in mk11 is ridiculous. And a cop out. Everything in the story thus far....is a fucking cop out.

It's lazy LAZY LAZY WRITING

I get it,they don't want the same dudes on the roster. But....guess what? You do it anyways nrs?! Is wb fucking you over in the ass? Just blink twice if they are. Like that's the only reason nrs keeps making mistakes,problems,and stupid ass decisions.

Anyways. Mortal liu kang any damn day.

No questions.

Anyone who picks god liu kang over sweet boy mortal liu kang is a fucking fool and honestly doesn't really know liu kang.

Fuck fire god liu kang,Oops i ment boons comicbook insert.

Mortal,shaolin monk liu kang ftfw.

All day any day.

Like I'm just sad they couldn't have just let....ya know....his shaolin bromie kung lao take over? And ya know LET FUJIN DO HIS JOB!? and ya know....let liu kang fucking retire from the narrative?

Without god powers,without killing him off,without making him evil from plot device,without making him undead,like ffs man this man has been thru every trope except having a fucking sexy honey boo on his hip! Ffs man let this guy have happiness?

Ya think the narrative would be kinder to him considering how much bootlicking they do to him.

But nope....they want their cake and eat it too. Fuck nrs.

I'm sorry liu kang,im so sorry they made you a joke. (And to all the other characters that i know n love and grew up with so much)

People think that shit is funny,or nothing to sneeze at. Well how would you feel if something that bringed you joy growing up was being fucked over by corporate greed? And fans just eat it up and consume mindlessly without actually thinking about it? Like they buy cuz of brand and "it looks cool" .

Ugh im just sick of it man.

[borathae]

Chapter 2

That dick is all over campus” call that a hoeyager

oh they are very serious oof

running for her life?? TAE WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT TO DO TO ME???

“A gentleman’s secret muhee hee hee hee

“Your car is really sexy truer words ahve never been spoken

Do you enjoy music? watch his ass play johnny marvin

WHAT IS DOIJG ?? *im guessing he can charm/manipulate minds?

You didn’t want to say this, why did you say this? MOM(2seok,kook) PICK ME UP IM SCARED

You shiver and blink, feeling as if you finally found the way out of something. But what?  BYE TAEHYUNG UM I WILL COME BACK TO YOU, later..... like 500 years later as reincarnation bye

I knew that you would enjoy this place”, hOW DID U KNOW??

(footsteps)Taehyung’s were silent. STOP BYE IM LEAVIMG IM SCARED KOOK SHOULD HAVE BEEN FASTER TO COLLECT ME AAH

every lovely lady I spent time with, always shifts to my descent sooner or later.” whoops hee hee

“I want to talk to that source one day, they seem to have the raunchiest details about artists” mr. dracula must be fluttering

resting bitch face is very annoying, especially when it looks like a certain someone and u cant rest it, even at home (was a struggle in lockdown)

“It’s a little eerie here HOMEGIRL IS THAT THE ONLY THING U FOUND EERIE YET???

ofc a murderer wouldnt tell you, imagine u going

excuse me, young lady, you look really good tonight

-oh thank you, u shouldnt have

well i have to, cuz its going to be your last night.

-what?

im a murderer, so let me just stabby stab yeah?

-oh yeah sure why not, since u are polite

ok mr. not a murderer, would u mind making me hungry for more healthier stuff??? and also not let me gain weight???? thank yew

such a big house????? that you own???? in this economy????

Are you going to cook dinner for me? nope he is about to pull a hannibal and make u the dinner for all the housemates 😭

I fear not, I am quite terrible in the kitchen. But worry not, you will still get delicious food. sir i wisheth u stopped thy habit of speaking old english (jk, go on, make me laugh lol, i literally pulled on my old pants that comes up to knees and wore socks above)

A scarlet red rope adorns his naked body, opened in the front to reveal his toned torso and the matching silk pants adorning his sculpted legs. I AM HOE, SERVANT, AND MAID AND YOURS PERSONALLY, HOW MAY I SERVE YOU, SIR????

descending down the stairs like a graceful cat. ah the line is so good i love it, i can see it, not like i wasnt seeing 95% of the scenes like a movie in my head

she snorted she snorted SHE SNORTED GOOD NIGHT

He answered it clearly and loudly. WHAT DID HE SAY AAH

Where did he get that glass from? You can’t remember watching him stand up and get it. Or did he have it all this time already? boi what goes on

The movie about the messy street rat helping that weak cook U LIVED THAT LONG AND THATS YOUR OPINION??? UNCULTURED SWINE

his movie is a masterpiece. It’s about friendship and love and overcoming stereotypes, it’s so much more than just a rat helping a cook PERIOD TELL EM SIS

CARS ISNT BAD JIMINSHI MY LOVE

I like to refresh my memory sometimes SIR ANOTHER HINT AAH

How could I, a mere mortal man, sleep next to your beautiful body and not be tempted by my carnal desires?” MORTAL MAN??? U SURE ABOUT THAT?

feeling that i’ve seen them before somewhere” SAY WHAT OMG she is indeed special, i mean obviously why would 2seok call her and kook say we smell good

Do not open your doors tonight. Keep them locked.” THEY GOT DEAD BODIES PT 2

HUH??? how did she end up in the library?? does opening the door even for a second cause such stuff?

omg bad boi yoongles came to save us

the suspense is killing me the foreshadowing is hecking great

and im already excited to know more about all characters *squeaks

heheheh I love your reviews hehehe thank youuuu 💜💜

That dick is all over campus” call that a hoeyager

LMAOAO FOR REAL jfajds f

running for her life?? TAE WHAT ARE YOU ABOUT TO DO TO ME???

SUSPICIOUS INDEEEED

WHAT IS DOIJG ?? *im guessing he can charm/manipulate minds?

mhmhmhmmhmhmmmmmmmmmhhhhmmm 👀

You didn’t want to say this, why did you say this? MOM(2seok,kook) PICK ME UP IM SCARED

BESTIE HE IS DANGEROUS LIKE HELPPP

You shiver and blink, feeling as if you finally found the way out of something. But what?  BYE TAEHYUNG UM I WILL COME BACK TO YOU, later..... like 500 years later as reincarnation bye

LIKE LISTEN WHAT IS HE DOINNG??? HELLELEOOOO

I knew that you would enjoy this place”, hOW DID U KNOW??

👀👀👀👀👀

(footsteps)Taehyung’s were silent. STOP BYE IM LEAVIMG IM SCARED KOOK SHOULD HAVE BEEN FASTER TO COLLECT ME AAH

GIRLIEPOPS WE ARE SCARED

resting bitch face is very annoying, especially when it looks like a certain someone and u cant rest it, even at home (was a struggle in lockdown)

Oh no I'm sorry to hear that you can't even relax at home :/ I'm manifesting a safer living situation for you 💜💜

such a big house????? that you own???? in this economy????

so he rich RICH i see i see

Are you going to cook dinner for me? nope he is about to pull a hannibal and make u the dinner for all the housemates 😭

GIRL LEGIT LIKE PLEASE HELP HER

A scarlet red rope adorns his naked body, opened in the front to reveal his toned torso and the matching silk pants adorning his sculpted legs. I AM HOE, SERVANT, AND MAID AND YOURS PERSONALLY, HOW MAY I SERVE YOU, SIR????

lmao for real fjasjdfa

descending down the stairs like a graceful cat. ah the line is so good i love it, i can see it, not like i wasnt seeing 95% of the scenes like a movie in my head

GAAH EHEH THANK YOUU <33333

CARS ISNT BAD JIMINSHI MY LOVE

i must let you know that Cars is not Jimin's fave movie, Tae was just teasing him HAHAHAHAHAH i don't think that Jimin even has a fave movie tbhf JFAJDSFJ

feeling that i’ve seen them before somewhere” SAY WHAT OMG she is indeed special, i mean obviously why would 2seok call her and kook say we smell good

mmhmhmmhmhmhmmhmmmmm

Do not open your doors tonight. Keep them locked.” THEY GOT DEAD BODIES PT 2

LIKE SHE IS REALLY GONE NOW ISNT SHE FJASDFJ

HUH??? how did she end up in the library?? does opening the door even for a second cause such stuff?

mhmhmmmmmmmm 👀

omg bad boi yoongles came to save us

he is so hot tbfh.

the suspense is killing me the foreshadowing is hecking great and im already excited to know more about all characters *squeaks

gaah thank youu <333 I'm so happy that you're enjoying it so much heheheheh thank you for reading ilyy

[weird-dere-fics]

A little birdy told me you were having period cramps so I came here as fast as I possibly could to send you some Ichigo n' Bakugou lovin'

As insufferable as they both are with their trademark snark and brash attitudes, they're both very, very perceptive men and they're quick to pick up on you trying to hide the period pains and the cramps that come with it

Bakugou speaks in a much softer tone, his touch lingering over your skin for a couple seconds longer whenever he strokes your shoulder. He's seen first hand from his mother about just how bad monthly pangs can get and he's both gentle, yet firm, to offer you a massage. If you try to deny his offer, he shakes his head and he's already guiding you towards the bedroom

"Stop trying to fuckin' hide it and sit down," sounds suspiciously a lot like 'just let me take care of you' and there's a hint of concern in that low growl of his

He's insistently stubborn, refusing to budge or let you go until he's absolutely sure that the tension in your shoulders has alleviated. After tending to your body, he cooks up your favourite meal, having perfected it down to the very last detail

Ichigo is just a liiittle bit more insufferable when he notices that you're in a pretty bad mood. That boy likes to taunt and push you around in a playful manner, but when you snap back at him, baring your teeth, he backs off with wide eyes and raised brows

He honestly looks like some kind of bristled cat

He watches you stalk off in tense silence, wanting to ask a sassy, 'Jeez, what's eating your ass this morning?' but he just barely manages to hold his tongue back from muttering the words out of his smart mouth

Instead, he lets out a small sigh, and approaches you in an apologetic manner; gently wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back flush to his firm chest, before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, the bridge of his nose ghosting along your warm skin

"Twyla... " He murmurs your name quietly, his voice much more softer than usual, with his lips peppering tiny kisses all along the side of your throat, and he picks up on all of the sensitive spots that make you shiver

Me reading this in real time:

Knifie I will let u kith me back a thousand times and then I will proceed to kiss u back AGAIN another 10,000 times.

Pls I love them both so much :((((( 💖💖💖💖

Love how attentive Bakugou is here, n how he gently forces his way into taking care of me cus knowing me, if I thought it was inconveniencing him I prolly would decline. Crying at how I would be thanking him n telling him he didn’t have to and he just gets annoyed and straight up says “Let me love you, shitty woman” with a bit of a chuckle. He’s so sweet to me. It isn’t u til after the massage that I notice his lingering touches, the extra warmth, eye— 🥹🥹🥹.

And Ichigo? Man 🧎🏾‍♀️. We prolly would push each others buttons at times when teasing each other, but I appreciate so much that he can realize sometimes it’s the wrong time and that he goes to make up for it 🥺. I would melt very shortly after he murmurs my name during his embrace, starting to cry once he starts kissing my skin. Would feel so bad about snapping like that and absolutely crave the warmth he’s offering pls, I would crumble 😭😭😭. The way he chooses to go after me instead of leaving me be to stew on things 🥹🥹🥹. I love him so fucking much.

Thank you sm knifie I am coming to your house with treats and a plushie of a little spider with a knife and another smol plushie of a black bird with a red (hawks) feather in its beak.

[whysojiminimnida]

So What's with Jimin Lately, You Asked

WARNING THIS IS A LONG-ASS POST And please remember that this is a NO SOURCE NO RECEIPTS HOUSEHOLD OKAY. I don't know shit, I ain't confirming a damn thing, anything you read is my opinion based on maybe info or maybe utter garbage. That's my disclaimer and I am STICKING TO IT. I can't be the only one who has noticed our Jiminie looking a bit...like this, recently:

And I think I may have one reason why.

Scandals are a fact of life among idols. What in the West might be considered a normal life event is, in the world of the K-pop system, often a career-ending event. Like, IDK, members dating actual women. Or men. Or each other.

In the last couple of months, all of these things have been alleged - one of them in the press. The other two, behind the scenes. We know about Jimin's mail being stolen and the security failure there, and it's not a stretch to believe that security for BTS overall has taken a hit. It was adequate, even excellent, for years. BigHit pays very well.

But information pays better, and blackmail pays best. Lest you think "NO but that whole Taehyung-Jennie thing was a stunt"... maybe. Maybe not. Tae, actually, is one of the most scandal-proof idols in the business because he primarily or only dates women. Sorry not sorry, I said what I said and I ain't wrong.

I have said privately, if not publicly, that Hybe will NEVER DENY THOSE RUMORS because Taehyung himself will not deny them. They aren't even bothering to keep them out of the press.

Being straight or even passably so is not a problem, for artists on Bangtan's level (is anyone else even ON Bangtan's level? NO.) The Jeon-Parks, though.

See, the thing about being *gaily involved* in Korea is that... it's a problem no matter how famous or powerful you are. Idols are not immune - ask Holland.

That's Homo Hill, kids - the WeHo of Seoul. The gayest gayborhood in the entire of Korea. And famous unstr8 people are not safe, there, now.

There was a pay-for-info attempt floating around about JeiKei awhile back. And he was alibi'd for the date(s) in question. Wasn't there, wasn't him, the fakes were good but not good enough to put him somewhere he wasn't. You maybe didn't hear about it because those of us who did, didn't discuss it out loud.

More recently, though.... I'm gonna say this in public this ONE TIME and we will not speak of it again. OKAY? Okay. Sometimes people are for sale that shouldn't be. And security failure has happened more than once in the last couple of months - a problem that, I am told, has since been rectified. And I am not saying money changed hands, do not get me wrong. I'll come find you if you say I said that. But there are REASONS that Jimin and Jungkook are currently not sharing vehicles, not being seen as too friendly, are not "together" in public, not even in interviews or photoshoots. Sometimes a bit of perceived distance is necessary. I don't feel like I should or should need to elaborate.

Add to that the depth of emotional and psychological damage, it's no wonder Jimin doesn't trust anyone, very much, lately.

My favorite couple have not been seen together in public since their off period began and I don't think I need to further expound on why, unless you're completely unaware of the eyes that are currently on BTS as a whole. (Sorry, I keep deleting stuff. This is taking longer than I thought). But Jimin was the one whose security had already failed - enough that Hybe had to clean up after them.

The others have had sasaeng problems and those are constant and pretty normal business. All idols get that. But all of them are not Park "It Boy" Jimin.

So being threatened with a very real tax lien, and immediately following that even a hint of the possibility of being outed, right NOW? I've deleted a lot more than I can ever write on how gross, how invasive, that is. And that when this is his normal commute:

In the West, Jimin gets a lot of hate from cultists and we don't like to talk about that. But within the last year, a small but rude wave of anti-Jimin sentiment has made its way into Korea. Airplanes and money exist. I've been shocked at what some people are willing to do to further their narrative. If your favorite translator can afford to hit every show with their anti buddies but can't seem to remember to support Jimin's OSTs or solo efforts, ask yourself how they benefit from that and who they support and what else they might be up to that we aren't aware of. If you casually see cult-adjacent accounts that seem to somehow be turning a for-profit narrative ask yourself what loyalty that cash might be buying. It doesn't take a lot of people to crowdfund someone's entire livelihood. Maybe 1000 at $5 a month could get it done.

HELL IF I COULD COMMAND $5K A MONTH FROM Y'ALL I WOULD MOVE OUT MY MAMA'S HOUSE NEXT WEEK AND PAY MY MEDICAL BILLS.

If y'all don't have anything else going on I'll just put me up a whole Ko-fi or Patreon and write fanfiction for a damn living and YOU THINK I AM JOKING I AM NOT EVEN. My services can be bought. Most people can, if they like what they're doing and can get paid to do it. I won't lie to you for cash and I mouth off here for free but hey, a girl needs rent all right, my fanfiction commissions are OPEN.

Get up to a quarter, half-million ad-revenued followers and do the math on that kind of income.

We can't all be Ryan Kaji, Super Spy, but it ain't for lack of trying.

Now imagine a paparazzi journalist with the idea of a second and third source of cash, plus the street cred of breaking the biggest news story in K-pop history, and their neighbor's second cousin happens to know someone with a vacant window view to a certain apartment and this is how careers get shot down and reinvented much later on another continent.

That's the level of stress, I think, for all of them in general but for Jimin in particular. Maybe on a similar level for Jungkook, somewhat less so for Taehyung. The hyungs have it a little easier, but not by much.

Now add to that Schrodinger's Hiatus and other things we never know about - family stress, life in general, maybe Jimin's plumbing went out or his invisible cat got sick, we don't know everything -- how would we begin to look at our lives, in Jimin's place? Would it be worth it?

Based on his smile at MNet last night, I really hope so.

[elovval]

Gwi-nam Headcannons

[ So I was making an edit & thought of these hcs so ]

[ unedited ]

Random Hcs

• The reason why Gwi-nam hates Cheong-san so much is because Cheong-san has the life he always wanted, he hates how "perfect" Cheong-sans life is, hints why he wanted to take his eye [ofc cuz Cheong-san took his but-], he knew if he ruined Cheong-sans face, Cheong-sans life wouldn't be perfect anymore

• His family either were never around or just never payed attention to him, he never had affection as a kid & no one was there to help him express his emotions, so he just expresses them through fighting

• Myeong-Hwan was his first "friend", im convinced Myeong-Hwan manipulated Gwi-nam into thinking Gwi-nam owed him the world and that freinds should listen to each other [like when Myeong-Hwan orders him around] and since Gwi-nam never had a real friend before that, he thought it was a normal thing

• another reason why he's friends with Myeong-Hwan is because he's scared to become an outcast, he likes the fact he can be useful to Myeong-Hwan and how ppl automatically feel the need to be nice to him even if it's out of fear, he likes to be "liked"

• He's scared of thunderstorms! Okay so yk the scene where he tried to block the sound of the thunder? Yeah that expect all his life, like before the apocalypse, whenever a thunderstorm happened he would cover his ears with his pillow and hide under his covers or just blast music until the morning

• I feel like he is a nail bitter, like when he's nervous he bites his nails until they are to the brim, sometimes till the point he's bleeding, and if he has no nails to bite on, he bites the inside of his cheek or lip

• As a halfbie we can see he has a high pain tolerance, but I feel like when he was a human he had a low pain tolerance, like whenever he DID bite his nails untill he bled, he would have to take multi deep breathes before removing the dead skin that was hanging off and when he did, he would just curse until the pain is gone

• speaking about low tolerance, he gets drunk easily, even though he's a minor I'm sure he's drank once or twice, and each time he got drunk off like one and a half shots, he's the type to mutter stuff that no one could ever understand, I feel like he gets extremely affectionate, like he would clinge onto you and bury his head into your neck while saying random ass shit

• he has a drawing hobby, when he was a kid, he found a red crayon with paper...so he just started drawing, he found comfort in drawing, added with some music as well, He uses art to express himself whenever he cant, fight or was just bored, he doesn't brag about it though, sometimes when he's walking home and sees art suplies in the garbage, he grabs them secretly and takes them home

• He's the type to laugh at boys [kid] crying, like he would run over a kids sand castle and laugh in their faces, if it was a girl tho? I feel like he is much more gentle, he's the type to see a lost girl and help her home [only to ask her parent for reward money]

• I just wanted to add, I feel like he isn't homophobic, more like he doesn't give two fucks, like if you told him you were gay he would be like "the fuck is that?" And when you explain to him, if you're a guy he would ask you if you like him and wouldn't let you answer because he would say "sorry i dont like dick" and if you're a girl, he would be like "so you like pussy? Nice", he doesn't care, pretty sure he would have to care about you first before he actually caring abt you being gay

• Gwi-nam hasn't fallen for anyone, whether if it was a crush or actually in love, he doesn't see the point if you'll eventually get bored or fall out of love [ his pov ], he's witnessed his parents fight a lot as a kid so his mind is fixed on that image

• OMFG JUST THOUGH OF THIS ONE, if you compliment him on something, he'll do it everyday to get another compliment, like for example, his hair is sweeped back because he was sweating and yk he sweeped it back, you see it and say it looks nice on him, at first he tells you to fuck off but the next day he came to school with his hair sweeped back, and when you ask him about it, he tries to act slick but he obviously is fishing for compliments so you compliment him just to satisfy him AND if you don't realize it, he tries his best to make it obvious until you see it

"Hey you look really nice with your hair sweeped back Nam!" Y/n gave a cheeky smile and gave Gwi-nam a thumbs up "Are you dumb?" He grumbles before walking away The next day... "Morning!" Y/N jumped and bumped into Gwi-nam, who sent her a death galre "Fuck off" He replied as he looked away, he acted like he didn't care but his pace slowed down to match hers "Hey...you seem different...your hair!!" She finally pointed out, Gwi-nam sent her looks before nodding "You look nice Yoon" Y/N exclaimed, giving him the same thumbs up She gave him yesterday "Whatever" He muttered, he sped up his pace and ran straight for the gates of the school, not only did his unusual pace give his cover up...but so did his bright red ears

I'll be making a dating hcs for him too!!

If you guys have any characters that you want me to do hcs for, feel free to suggest it!

[starkermeup]

The game of multitasking

inspired by this prompt

AO3

taglist: @nerdylocksandthethreebears @muse-of-gods @tonystarkisntaslut @starker-oasis

Tony loved distracting Peter. It was one of his many joys in life. Whether it was kissing the young man's neck when he was trying to study or giving the boy a blowjob while he's on the phone with his aunt, Tony loved it, loved seeing the boy's eyes turn dark with desire and cheeks red with embarrassment. Loved seeing what kind of sounds he can pull from Peter. Especially in situations that absolutely did not call for it.

Peter didn't mind it, not really. He liked when the older man was handsy and acted like he couldn't keep his hands off him, made Peter feel wanted and pathetically horny. But sometimes, like right now, he'd really wish the man would take a hint.

"Not now," Peter says, moving away from Tony's advances. "I have a co-op mission to play and I can't have you distracting me."

"Come on, baby, you know I get hard when you push those little controls," Tony teased but he didn't edge off, instead he pulled the boy further into his lap, making Peter pout.

"Tonyyy, I'm serious. This is an important mission for our party and I have to be focused. Ned and everyone else are counting on me to do my part." Peter explained and slid his headset over his ears.

Tony gazed at the imagery on the flat screen, barely able to gauge what he was looking at. He never understood the appeal of video games, but then again he was Iron Man who dealt with real life horrors on a daily basis so he didn't have a need to see them virtually. Peter obviously didn't share the same sentiment, despite being Spider-Man, loving video games and had gushed like a kid on Christmas when Tony bought him a PlayStation 5. The boy was so happy, kissing Tony all over his face before immediately hooking it up and calling his friends to tell them the news. Even if Tony didn't care for it, he would do anything to keep his young boyfriend smiling.

"I just want you close, okay? My hands are staying put." Tony says, emphasizing his fingertips on Peter's waist which made the boy jump.

"Please, just keep your hands in place and don't say anything weird. I'm putting Ned on the mic so you have to behave." Peter warned but Tony could see the blush on his cheeks and couldn't help turning the boy's head to kiss him. Peter gasped and Tony slipped inside, licking his tongue and mouth open. It only lasts for a moment before Peter is pulling back, his eyes dark and face red. Tony licks his lips, staring at him, and gets an glorious idea.

"I won't do anything baby, go ahead and play your game." Tony says with a smile and Peter stares at him unsure, like he's trying to read his older lover's mischievous expression. But just as he was about to respond, he heard a voice in his headset.

"Peter you there?" Ned's voice comes through and Peter's attention is back on the screen.

"Yeah, I'm here. What's the game plan?" Peter was immediately in game mode after that. Tony could tell in the way he leaned forward in his lap, unintentionally backing his round ass right on Tony's crotch. He already felt himself getting hard from the warmth in his lap, but he shook it off, for now.

Within the next few minutes, Peter becomes completely captivated by his game, only speaking into his headset and pressing buttons on the controls. Tony, on the other hand wasn't quite as captivated by Peter playing, though he did always find it interesting watching Peter play games with nearly the same determination he'd seen with Spider-Man. It was quite pleasing, but not as pleasing Peter in his lap.

The boy had a habit of rocking his hips into Tony every time he got excited playing and it seemed to happen alot and Tony got harder with every rock. He had taken to rubbing Peter's hips tenderly, slowly lowering his hand into the boy's boxers. Peter didn't seem to notice, still engulfed in the screen so Tony takes it a step further. He presses a kiss to Peter's neck while sliding his lingering hand into down further and grips one of the boy's ass cheeks.

Peter lets out a sharp gasp, hands momentarily still on the controller. He stares back at Tony with narrow eyes that were meant to be a warning but it only egged Tony on.

"Play your game," Tony says with fake innocence and a knowing smirk. Peter looks back at the screen, face reddening.

Tony massages Peter's cheek for a whole minute before getting impatient. He slipped between the boy's crack, stopping when he finds his hole and marvels how it's still wet from the load Tony busted in him earlier that morning. He easily slips a finger in and the teen jolts.

Peter slams a hand over his own mouth to cover up his shameless moan. Tony doesn't stop his movements, even slipping another finger inside Peter's needy hole.

Peter stares again at the older man and he looks wrecked. He moves the headset away from his ear. "P-please, f-fuck, don't stop- I mean stop, I-I have to do this and oh god-" his speech is cut off when Tony's finger graze against his prostate and he bites his lip hard to stay quiet.

"I'm not doing anything honey, focus on your game, your team needs you right?" Tony says, not easing up on his fingering for a second.

"Peter, where are you? We need you in the next room." Ned's voice comes through in Peter's still covered ear.

Peter stares at Tony scandalized by the man's ministrations but diligently responds to his friend.

"Y-yeah, I'm coming right now. My controller glitched for a moment." Peter's attention once again returns back to the screen but his hips follow Tony's fingers in a shy motion.

Tony smirked, twitching at the effect he was having on Peter. His boy was so cute when he was horny and was downright adorable when he tried so hard to not get distracted. It was even more fun to make him break.

The man pulls his fingers out abruptly, Peter gasps, but his eyes stay glued to the screen, probably thinking Tony is done having his fun and he can finally play his game in peace.

However, the thought quickly goes up in flames as Tony leans Peter over the coffee table, spreading his cheeks so he can see his pink little hole in all its glory, still so wet, Tony's cock twitches. He can't hold back anymore. He lines up with the needy pucker and presses fully in on one go.

"Fuck baby, still so tight for me," Tony groans, Peter's insides clinging to him like vice. Like they didn't want to let him go and it gave him the idea of letting Peter cockwarm him but that was for another time. Right now, he wanted the boy and thrusted a little as he bottoms out.

He peeks over Peter's shoulder and realizes that the boy is no longer playing, rather holding the controller in one hand and uses the sleeve of his button up to muffle his moans. Tony's tsks at the display and promptly pulls Peter by his lithe hips until he was sat full on Tony's lap and cock.

"Mr. Stark," the boy pleads with big brown eyes and Tony takes note of the pretty unshed tears under them.

"Peter, if you keep stopping you're gonna disappoint your friends. Don't be rude," he says, fucking the boy with one thrust that lands right to his weak spot. "Finish your game, understand?" Peter nods helplessly, quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Peter's a wreck for the rest of the game, biting his lip with every thrust and only speaking one word answers via headset. Tony kept up his pace, fucking the boy steadily and pressing soft kisses on his neck. He was so close he could even hear Peter's friend on the mic, trying to maintain Peter's attention. It gave Tony another idea.

"...There are more monsters coming from the left...."

Tony moves the head piece from Peter's right ear, licking it. Peter gasps, not expecting it, but ignores him regardless.

That is until Tony starts spilling his own words into the boy's ear, counterparting his friend's.

"Okay, so we just have to kill the boss and his minions. Don't forget to loot them too and..."

"You take my cock so good honey, your needy hole isn't happy if there isn't a cock in it hm?"

"We should get him at long range so let's climb the stairs. I lost too much health in the basement. Peter, can you give me a health boost?"

"It's like you were made to my little fuckdoll, mine to fuck whatever I want and you'll always let me, isn't that right baby?"

"Yes," Peter simultaneously says to both questions. Pressing controls and bouncing his ass down to meet Tony's thrust. He whimpers outwardly as Tony pounds him but doesn't stop playing. Tony is impressed with his growing ability to multitask while being fucked but he wants all of his boy's attention.

He wraps a hand around Peter's neglected hard cock, and Peter yelps loudly, taken back but Tony doesn't stop, squeezing the boy's cocktip, pre cum dripping between both their spread legs.

"Yeah I know, this boss is not only hard, he's really hideous too. Don't worry we'll get him though. His health bar is lowering." Ned chirps, mistaking Peter's yelp for one of fear.

Peter's hole squeezes Tony's cock hard rather than responding to his friend, much to Tony's delight.

"You thought you were caught didn't you? Thought your friend heard you cry out like a needy whore and found out that instead of focusing on your little co-op, you're focused on getting fucked like a hungry cockslut? Your teammates would be ashamed of Peter." Tony taunts in his lover's ear. He couldn't help it, he loved seeing Peter get all worked up because of him.

"He's almost dead, a few more shots, people!"

Peter is silent but he's practically vibrating on Tony's lap, smashing the game controllers violently. As if to hurry along this game so he can properly ride Tony's cock. The older man takes his hand off Peter's hard rod, reaching around him and sticks two fingers in his mouth that Peter welcomes immediately, sucking the tips of his thick fingers and rolling his tongue around them.

Tony swears, unable to hold back any longer. He places both of his hands on Peter's hips and pounces into his delicious heat at full force.

Peter yanks the headset off whines, gripping the controller like he was trying to break it.

"Please, please, fuck I'm going to come. Tony please let me, I need it so bad," Peter babbles, his determination for his game evaporating, he cocks his head towards Tony for a kiss which the man gives him. Tony licks into the boy's mouth, appreciating his eager kissing back and how his little plan had worked like a charm.

Tony pulls back and the boy whines again, much to his amusement. "Okay baby, I'll let you come... once you win," Tony says, jerking Peter off in motions that match his strokes.

Peter's eyebrows furrowed, determination returning to have but for a completely different reason. He's playing again but his focus is only on the slick feeling of his cock in Tony's large fist.

Somehow he manages to stay sharp until the screen reads "YOU WIN" in huge letters. At that, Tony squeezes his tip and Peter moans as he comes, some landing on his hands and controller. The sticky controller slips from his hands and he leans forward, using the coffee table for leverage as Tony fucks him with abandon.

"Congratulations Peter, you win. Now here comes your prize for being such a good cockslut," Tony says, shoving in and out of Peter so hard the table shakes.

"Y-yes, please, I want it sir, Tony, give it to me," Peter pants, mind mush while still in post orgasmic but his cock already hard again.

"That's it baby. I'm gonna give it to you, fill you up nice and deep, just how you like it and fuck," Tony groans deep, hips halt balls deep inside Peter as he empties his seed.

Peter cries out as he feels himself being filled with hot cum, eyes teary as he comes untouched again. Tony pets his hair and moves the teen around until he's laying on his back on the coffee table. Tony holds Peter's legs in his hands until his cockhead pops free from the opening. Almost immediately cum waterfalls out but Tony catches it, feeding it back into the boy's needy hole.

"Now, wasn't that better than a co-op?" Tony smirks, kissing his lover's lips.

Peter pouts but there's no heat behind it, too fucked out to be upset. "Remind me to play video games when you're at work for now on." He says and grabs Tony's face until they're kissing again.

Little do either of them know, Ned's still talking to himself on the long since abandoned headphones.

[emisanemu]

Give It Up For Fallen Glory

Gabriel x Plus-size!Female! Reader

(Word count: 4248)

(Rating: M)

(Warnings: strong language, blood, death, murder, just a lot of rough stuff)

(Description: Everyone has a story.)

Your fingers slide gracefully across the keys of your laptop, small 'clacking' sounds following each letter you typed. The lore website loaded slowly, your pen sat still on the table beside you, still warm from the notes you've been taking. You can smell the pungent odour of the fresh black pen ink, probably still wet on the paper of your little journal. You can feel the slight heat radiating from your MacBook, most likely from overuse, or maybe because you haven't replaced it in years. Your nose also catches the faint scent of your now cold coffee, long abandoned next to you as you threw yourself into your research.

      You were trying to find whatever information there was available on lake monsters, and besides catalogues of articles about the Loch Ness monster, there wasn't much to be found. I mean, who even believes in lake monsters, sure there's the occasional picture of some blurry log in a dark lake that people claim is some elusive cryptid. Other than that, you haven't found a lot of relevant information, at least not for the case you were looking in to. Young men, between the ages of 25 and 30 disappearing. They had all been swimming within the same area, streams and small rivers that all pour water from the local lake. Of course the first thought from Dean was a lake monster, for being a seasoned hunter, some of his ideas were a little...out there at times. Nonetheless here you were, wasting away in front of an old ass laptop researching lake monsters.

       Sam and Dean had gotten all "feded" up to go ask questions around the town. People are obviously more than willing to discuss lake monsters. Not. So you stayed back hoping to find a more reasonable answer, something with at least a few pages of credible research behind it but so far, no ball. Your eyes felt weary and your back ached from being hunched over uncomfortably in front of the small screen, your hands cramped up from taking useless notes. Man you really needed a vacation at some point, it would only be a matter of convincing the boys and Cas, well and your new tag along, archangel Gabriel himself. He has proven to be a helpful asset but also a major pain in the ass. He was somehow messier than Dean, leaving his candy wrappers anyway he went, angels don't even need to eat, you swear he does just to spite you.

         At least he kept himself sparse for the most part, he would either tag along with Sam and Dean or bother Cas who was always on some random heaven related mission. Thankfully that left you with down time, even if your downtime consisted of nonsense research. Sometimes you liked the nonsense, it was like a little unwanted learning experience.

"Heyo!"

       Speaking of unwanted. His voice sounded overly chipper, maybe even to the point where it was being forced. Now you just wanted to have a real lake monster come through the window and take you hostage, like a water king kong, except with drowning you instead of carrying you to the top of the Empire State Building. Or maybe you could just slam your face into your laptop hard enough it put you out for a few hours. Two unreasonable options but probably more enjoyable than a one sided flirty conversation with the faux trickster.

"Yes Gabriel?"

       You don't even pull your eyes away from your screen, maybe he'd take the hint and flutter off somewhere. That was only a hope, angels weren't much for subtlety, they were actually quite abrasive, except for Cas, he was more awkward than brash like Gabriel.

"Just seeing what the pretty lady was up to, which is-"

  He pauses for a moment to eye your computer screen.

"Sea monster research?"

       You could hear the amusement in his voice, it was kind of funny. A hunter with years of training and lives saved under her belt looking at articles about cryptids and fairytales. There was no perspective that could make this seem normal, it could only really be seen as funny, like some messed up comedy routine.

"Actually, it's lake monsters, which probably isn't any better now that I say it."

       You laugh a bit at the end of your sentence, trying to suppress giggles that were building in your throat. You finally turned around to meet Gabriel's gaze, the sea- erm, lake monsters could wait a second.

"Is there something that you want Gabriel."

        Your voice sounds flat and kind of annoyed, and your face definitely matches as Gabriel reaches to scratch his chin like some cartoon character. Gabriel was at times a living cartoon character, at least he was funny.

"Why don't you..tell me a story, your story."

        His statement comes out "matter a factly". But you just look and feel a bit bewildered, your story? The saga of your life? Or maybe why you're looking up damn lake monsters? But the look in his eyes answers your question, he wants THE story.

"I don't have a story Gabriel."

     The words roll of your tongue, a clear tell that you have said that same thing before, that you had brushed people off a million times. Why did he want to know? I mean he's an angel, he's seen all and knows all, he could just read your mind and figure it all out.

"Of course you do, all you hunters have one, some sobbing heartbreaking story of why you became a hunter, who or what brought you into the life and I know everyone else's but yours, so please, do tell."

       You could feel your jaw clenching, anger building in your chest, heat rising to your face. You wanted to punch him, how dare he ask you that, and especially like that. He was so condescending at times, like all the times he tried to be understanding it was a lie. You were practically seething, and for once, Gabriel looked scared, fear brewing in his honey coloured eyes.

"Go to hell Gabriel, I don't owe you any answers or any story or anything for that matter."

        Your words came out as venom, like the bite of a snake. Your teeth were grinding painfully, the enamel almost wearing off into your mouth, your throat felt dry and constricted. Your hands shook to an almost painful degree as you all but slammed your laptop shut, the noise echoed through the room, cutting through the uncomfortable silence. You could almost feel the wince that came from Gabriel as you packed your things into your brown side satchel, you just needed some air. At least that's what you told yourself, you wanted to run until your lungs burned and your legs were numb, to keep going until you collapsed into some ditch, somehow that would feel less painful than this moment.

"Hey, just hold on."

         Gabriel punctuated his words with his hand on your own, in some almost pitiful attempt of stopping you from running out, to stop you from hiding. This only furthered your anger as you slapped his hand away, your eyes shot daggers at the angel, you almost wished an angel blade would manifest itself, give you some comfort and freedom. You just wanted to be free from the prison of your mind, and you felt hopeful as you went to walk out the door. Your legs moved fast until they suddenly stopped, your whole body stopped, like a giant hand had wrapped itself around you keeping you firm in your place. You tried to move, to get to the door, to feel the air of outside on your skin but it was no use. You were trapped and immediately you knew why, Gabriel.

        His grace had wrapped around you like a cage, keeping you immobile, stuck just like you have always been. He had no right, no right to ask questions that didn't need answers and no right to keep you here.

"Gabriel, let me go right now, I've been plenty gracious to you but I promise you I'll do whatever it takes for you to let me go if you don't do it on your own."

        You meant every word, in this moment you could probably kill him with little to no remorse. That was a horrible thought but you couldn't help it, you felt naked and vulnerable, like Gabriel had stripped you down and thrown you in front of the eyes of a million people. It was like those nightmares where you show up to high school in nothing but your socks and shoes, embarrassing and horrible and just angry. In this moment though, your emotions were a bomb, and you didn't know which awful feeling would ignite it first. You had a suspicion it would be sadness as hot burning tears stung the corners of your eyes. A choking feeling was rising in your chest, creating a painful knot in your throat. It was rushing to the surface faster than you could push it down.

"Gabriel, please, let me go. You- you can't do this."

       You felt pitiful with the way your voice cracked as you begged, if you could get to your knees you would sing your pleas like prayers and hope they didn't fall into deaf ears.

"YN..."

         Gabriel came around to stand in front of you, his golden honey eyes looked stormy, like the eye of the hurricane in physical form. His pink lips were pulled into a tight line, eyebrows furrowed in worry. You had seen Gabriel in pain, on his knees begging for mercy but you had never seen him like this, with remorse brewing deep within his being. His contention almost brought you comfort, soothed the sinking feeling in your chest. Almost, but not quite. Even if he DID feel conflicted about his actions, at this moment nothing could calm the waves crashing in your brain, drowning any rational thoughts you were having.

"I'm sorry, I just, I didn't want you to leave. I know I pushed it but I'm so sorry, and I understand if you don't want to but you can tell me, I'll listen, I can help you Y/N."

  

       He sounded truly sincere, Gabriel never felt sorry, at times you wondered if he could even comprehend true human emotions. In this moment you knew he could, that he wasn't just being comforting or luring you into some false sense of security, he was being unabashedly honest. Even so, you couldn't just tell him, you're not sure you'd even survive explaining what the air smelled like on that day, but you yearned for relief, for someone else to feel your agony so you didn't have to.

"Gabe...I can't, I can't say it."

       You meant it, there was no possible way you could fathom voicing your biggest pain, but, you wanted to.

"You don't have to say anything, just let me see, it may be uncomfortable, but I won't do anything to hurt you, I would never."

        You knew what he meant, you knew what he could do, how he could save you from your own internal turmoil so you just nodded. A slow painful nod that helped tears finally drop from your already puffy eyes. Your eyes which allowed you to see Gabriel slowly approaching you, weary that you may change your mind at any turn, that you would you scream at him, but you didn't. You didn't even move as he placed a warm gently hand over your forehead and you were suddenly gone.

        Warm air blew through your clothes and hair, the scent of wildflowers and summer grass staining your body and travelling up your nose. You were surrounded by tall grass and little dandelions, birds chirped over head and the sun warmed your skin gloriously. You could feel the cold dirt beneath your bare feet, the foliage tickled your legs, but you loved it, you loved how the world felt on your skin, it was comfortable.

“Y/N, supper is almost done, bring yourself inside now.”

Her voice is sweet, a slight but barely there twang. She sounds like hot chocolate on Christmas, warm and inviting. You dust your small hands on your dress and skip to your front porch, it’s a white wooden wrap around porch, it shows clear signs of aging and weather damage but it still stands, strong and beautiful. The front door is slightly ajar, in front of it sits a straw like ‘welcome’ mat, the ‘W’ is slightly worn away so it looks more like it says ‘velvome’. You can smell the savoury scent of homemade cooking, it engulfs you as you walk through the threshold of the door. A dog greats you, she’s an aged sheep dog, slightly dull black and brown fur with small white patches scattered about. She is rounder, a clear sign she’s been well taken care of, her nose is black and also dry and her eyes droop with age. You spot the collar, ‘Maggie’. Your family dog, she’s beautiful, 13 years old but she stands firm, always protective of you, even if you have to care for her more that she is able to care for you these days.

She rubs her nose happily against your hand, tail wagging madly, flapping through the air in a way you find almost funny. You crack a little smile and scratch her head, she’s appreciative and gives your hand a happy lick as she wonders off into the kitchen, you follow close behind. Maggie plops herself heavily into her dog bed, head resting tiredly on her paws as she closes her eyes contently.

“Wash your hands before you eat, I know you were playing in the grass, dirt doesn’t go down well with supper.”

She speaks sternly but with a hint of humour in her voice. She isn’t facing you, instead she’s taking dinner out of the oven, she’s wearing a black dress with little sunflower designs and a little yellow cardigan. She also has a white apron resting around her waste, it has hints of what you suspect is flour on it. Her hair in pinned up on her head and she is wearing her reading glasses on the edge of her nose. They’re slightly fogged up from the heat of the stove but she doesn’t seem to notice. You take in her figure and notice the little flower earrings and locket around her neck. Her accessories are elegant, she speaks poise but also comfort, she has an ageless beauty, looking almost ten years younger than her actual age, the only thing that gives her away is the very few fly away greys she has in her hair.

You snap your gaze away from her, stepping up to the sink on your makeshift step stool, too short to simply reach the counter on your own. You take a few pumps of lavender scented soap into your hands and you flick on the sink, waiting a few seconds until it runs warm. Not cold or hot but a sweet medium, you rub the soap across your hands and wash them under the steady stream of water. You scrub until the feeling of soap is gonna, it’s only then you turn the sink off and step down. You turn to your right grabbing the hand towel that was set out for you on the counter, it dries your hands delicately and your place it gently on the counter.

“Now would you look at my beautiful little girl.”

You feel two hands pinching your cheeks carefully, she has a smile on her face, it’s exaggerates the few, if any, wrinkles she has around her mouth.

“Momma, I’m not little anymore.”

You cross your arms is faux anger and blush bashfully. Your mother gives you a light chuckle, her laugh sounds like music, it’s the only sound you’d ever need to hear again to smile. She pinches your cheek once more before stepping back to look at you.

“How can I argue with that face, I mean your growing up so fast, you might as well get yourself a little job. You may even be too old for ice cream after dinner huh?”

Your eyes light up and you shake your head, causing yet another laugh to fall from your mothers perfect almost heart shaped lips.

“No momma, I’m not too old for ice cream, I promise.”

Your use your fingers to represent you crossing your heart in a cute little promise. Your mothers nose crinkles up as she cracks another smile and takes you into her arms. She smells sweet yet elegant, like roses and honey, and her dress is soft, her hands rub gentle circles on your back with one hand and tucks your hair behind your ear with the other.

“Okay, go sit down and we’ll have dinner together.”

Her smile warms you and you scurry to your seat excitedly, practically bouncing. You love spending time with your mother, she’s your safe space, the only person in this world that you truly trust. She’s with you for breakfast in the morning, to watch you play on the old tire swing in your yard, to sit with you during dinner, and to tuck you into bed at night. She is your everything, ever since she brought you into this world she had been your grace, the shining light at the end of every dark tunnel. You look at her as she settles at the table, passing you a white glass plate and a fork. She scoops mashed potatoes and delicious smelling chicken onto your plate, your favourite dinner of hers. It looks so good, to the point your mouth is practically watering at the sight, but you don’t dig in, you wait for your mother to plate up her food. You had never eaten without her, you both had to have food before you’d even think about it, it was a matter of respect but also a matter of never wanting to leave your mother out of anything. You were practically her shadow, dancing gracefully with every move she made, never falling to far behind her, her footsteps were yours in every sense.

“C’mon, let’s say grace before the food goes cold.”

You guys aren’t to religious but even so every night you say grace, a trait passed down from your grandparents, a little prayer for good things to come. You enjoy the nightly ritual, it brings you a sense of calm and peace, so you take your mother’s soft hand into your own, you can feel the cold metal of her wedding ring. It’s a small band with a little but noticeable diamond on it, given to her by your father, passed down from his mother. You close your eyes and bow your head waiting for your mother to begin the prayer but she doesn’t. Instead you hear a sickening gurgling sound bubble from your mother’s throat, and her grip on your hand tightens to an almost painful point.

Your eyes fly open and fall onto your mother, the sight is something you’d never forget, not even if you tried. Sticking out of the back of head is the handle of a knife, the tip of which protrudes through the front of her throat. Crimson blood gushes from the wound and on to the table in front of you. You could throw up, your mother was still holding your hand and she was dying, right before your eyes and you couldn’t do anything.

“Momma, no, please.”

Your begging fell on deaf ears as her hand went limp in your light little grip and her head fell forward into the table with a disgusting thud. You jumped back, and straight out of your seat, it was only then you noticed the figure standing behind her. His hands were covered in blood and you could smell the distinct scent of cigarettes wafting off of him. He had a nasty grin on his face and a dirty scruffy beard. Your father. You hadn’t seen him in days, your mom said he was on some sort of business trip. God you wished he was on a business trip and not here, now cowering over you.

He took a dirty blood covered hand and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks roughly, painfully. You could feel your mother’s blood seeping into your skin, it was sickening, the worst feeling anyone could experience. The situation only heightened when he raised his hand above his head, ready to come in contact with you when a sudden shot went off. Blood and brain matter splattered onto your shocked face, coating your hair disgustingly. Your father’s grip completely loosened off of your face and he fell to the floor revealing yet another man behind him.

He was holding up a shot gun, which had a little steam of smoke coming from it. He was gruff looking, he had a light salt and peppered beard, wrinkles and scars adorned his face. He wore a plaid flannel and mucked up jeans with a pair of old worn brown boots. He was an intimidating figure but he dropped his gun and his face softened upon seeing you, and you finally screamed. A heart breaking wailing scream, tears streaming from your face as you fell to your knees, everything you knew was gone, ripped away in a matter of minutes. So you closed your eyes and prayed, wishing it was some kind of nightmare, that you weren’t just sitting here with your parent’s blood on you.

When you opened them, before you stood Gabriel, his hand had finally left your forehead and he had tears in his eyes. Clearly he was deeply affected by your story, by what horrors your mind had to live with every day since you were five, you had hidden it for twenty five years. He had finally let you pour it all out and you felt a weight lifting from you, the weight of the fact that you no longer had to carry the burden alone.

“W-was that Bobby Singer?”

Bobby. Or as you now knew him, dad. On that night he had been the one to kill your father, he had been following your father’s trail of bodies. Unfortunately he didn’t make it in time to stop him from making another one, form ruining another life. He had ruined your life and not under the influence of some demon, or shifter, he was completely and utterly him, an evil, sick man. It was just unfortunate your mother had found out what he was doing. He was the “Indiana Stalker” a monicker he had earned by terrorizing the college girls, leaving their lifeless defiled bodies in ditches. Bobby had been on his trail, he originally thought it was a hunt before realizing he was for more dangerous, he was human. He wasn’t driven by some supernatural urge to kill, he was just the pure embodiment of evil and Bobby had saved you. He made a decision that day that he couldn’t leave you, he couldn’t throw you into the foster care system, having to recount over and over how your father had killed your mom. So he adopted you, taking you in as his daughter and you have been living like this for years, never telling a soul what had really happened. It was a secret between you and your adopted father, well, until now.

Gabriel just continued to look at you in shock, not knowing what would be appropriate to say, I mean what could you say in this moment. He could only hold your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. Your eyes met his, a tear falling from your eye as he leaned forward to place his forehead against your own.

“I am so sorry Y/N..”

His voice was breaking as he spoke, and more tears came from your eyes. Your grief was finally being let go somewhere besides your bed in the middle of the night. You had cried yourself to sleep for the past 25 years, wishing to wake up and to be 5 again, and just to have it all be a dream, to have a happy family again. But you never woke up back home, you just would continue to spend every day as a hunter, hoping to save just one kid from the same fate you had fallen to. And you had, you hadn’t saved just one kid but thousands, a fact which you prided yourself on.

You look up at Gabriel, eyes locking onto one another and before you knew it you had leaned forward and connected your lips to his. You allowed your sadness to pool into the kiss, it was deep and emotional, fueled by grief and trauma. His lips were soft and warm and for the first time you felt safe again, Gabriel was your safety and he gave you what you thought you could never have again. Pure unfiltered love, with no hitch or pity behind it, just a pure form of love and you stopped wishing. You no longer wanted to be a kid again in this moment, you just wanted to be with Gabriel, to never let go of this closeness you felt. He was just everything perfect felt like, and you yearned for this more than anything, yearned for safety. Yearned for peace.