#every once in a while o remember that edit someone made where they removed all the music from this scene

[harrowharkwife]

man "alright cowboy go get 'em" is really giving pretty little liars season 4 episode 11 Bring Down the Hoe her moment in the spotlight, huh

[hyunjilicious]

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

-

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer. 

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next. 

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation. 

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information. 

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?" 

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind. 

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes. 

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you. 

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display. 

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up. 

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet. 

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs. 

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment. 

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter. 

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes. 

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted. 

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear. 

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties. 

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease. 

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?" 

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?" 

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-" 

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

"Did he spank you good?" 

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me" 

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him. 

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before. 

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear. 

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear. 

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise. 

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it. 

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going. 

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone. 

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now. 

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely. 

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible. 

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing. 

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times. 

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

[skellebonez]

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2���1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

[servingy-nneeds]

PROMPT:HOW WOULD THEY REACT WITH A BIG BREASTED S/O: VILLAIN EDITION

Dabi

“You got them big tits” he said nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders when you were first introduced in the League of Villains

He would notice your above average breast but that’s it

Honestly doesn’t see the appeal with boobs, as he would put it, tits are tits.

Although, he understands your charms and has used you multiple times as an information gatherer mainly on male Pro heroes, other times on female pro heroes

Lets you wear whatever makes you feel comfortable; You want to wear baggy shirts and pants go for it. Wanted to wear badass clothes that shows of your curves? Hell go for it. He ain’t gonna guilt trip you into hiding your assets, if you have it, “fuckin flaunt it” as he say

When you first started dating he was still aloof with you, however was quick to avert you away from the League of Villains whenever you want to mingle with them. His reason was that “they aren’t the most sane people to be around”

Quite the prick when someone tries to hit on you

Namely going behind you and groping your knockers in front of the poor soul who decided his luck with you. He does this every damn time just to point out that yes you belong to him and yes he better be damn jealous of Dabi’s privilege

And if being dense was the offender’s choice of action. Well, cremation awaits for the other guys/girls, his hands ain’t rated E for nuthin’

It irritates him when one of his companion, most likely Shigaraki, stares at your tits for a second too long. He was rude to him to no end for the whole week. Doesn’t trust Shigaraki enough to leave you with him alone

Jests that you stay with him in order to scare off potential perverts. He was after all your ‘big bad boyfriend’

It doesn’t matter on how you two went to sleep that night, you always wake up to an arm under your breast or a hand exactly at your boob

You caught him sometimes staring at a mirror tracing his scars and then back at you wondering if you would finally realized you’re too good for a nobody like him

He KNOWS he has a shitty personality and looks and isn’t the best boyfriend out there for you

You learned that he responds well at cuddling and surrounding him with positive affirmations

BONUS✨: You tried surprising him with the whole concept of only wearing his coat with nothing underneath it. You think he appreciates the thought, but really, if your rearing to go just ask him.

Shigaraki

When you were first introduced to the League of Villains he didn’t even greet you and openly staring down under your chin never meeting your eyes. Thus, your first impression of him was pervert and imprudent, how is he the boss anyway?.

He just openly stared at your breasts until somebody pointed it out Dabi and Kurogiri

“Boss I think it goes dinner first eye fuckin later yeah?“

“I think this person would appreciate if you stopped undressing them with your eyes Shigaraki”

Unlike Dabi, this man would be obsessed with your boobs

One time you wore a low cut shirt and he had the audacity of blaming you for distracting him.

You kneed him in the gut for that comment followed by scampering off for your dear life

He would like to think he is sneaky with his glances

But honestly EVERYONE knows he’s ogling your breast

Doesn’t had a lot as a child which explains why he is quite childish and selfish with you when you two started going out

Would literally kill someone for you, LITERALLY

Someone just happened to look at you? boom dust. Someone just asked for direction and he didn’t liked the way the stranger looked at you? boom ashes

One time you heard him mutter a “+5 points” for wearing a round collared neck shirts and a “+30 points” for wearing the low cut shirt

Please someone tell this man that breasts are actually fragile and not some stress ball

A night with him results in sore breasts littered with bruises and bite marks

BONUS✨: Loves being babied resting his head on your breast. Doesn’t care if you were taking nap, nor does he care that he was trespassing on your room and privacy. Your breasts are open for naps? boom there his head goes. “Honestly, stop flaunting them” he argued to you one day.

Mr. Compress

When you were introduced to the League of Villains for the first time he low key hinted that he needs assistant for his magic tricks and you just so happened to be quite his type the distraction he needed

Another ‘all tits are tits’ kind of man

He may want all the applause of the world but lives for your amusement

Reserves all his pretty tricks for you

Is canonically a showman at heart so don’t take it the wrong way when he said that you were the center of attention, “it’s a compliment” he argues

Has a love hate relationship with the idea of you being the center of attention

He loves that everyone is staring at a glory that is you

Hates the idea that everyone is staring lecherously at you

Uses the phrase “You’re so cute I wish I can keep you inside my pockets all the time” quite literally

One time you got sent together with him at a public area, say the mall, to gather intels on pro heroes where you went separate ways. When he went back to you lo and behold you were being surrounded by horny males who just wants to get sum of that piece

He was quite flashy with distracting them, he called it a magician’s trick, but really all he did was asked you to be his assistant and then the next minute you were in his breast pocket no where to be seen

You threw a fit after you were decompressed 

He apologized for doing his parlor tricks unto you without consent. Lowkey would do it again if ever you were in trouble or he’s just downright jealous

Would love for you to wear a magician’s assistant garb; the one with the top hat, corset, long coat and really anything that allows for an easy misdirection of tricks for his advantage.

BONUS✨:Wearing his costume or anything of his turns it on for him. One time he made you wear his top hat and only his top hat while he was scrambling up your guts.

Twice

When you were first introduced to the League of Villains he greeted you with  “You look fuckin hot to bed” “ or to Wed”

Being teamed up with him was both exhausting and amusing at the same time

He would likely drop some random conversations like “You know we could be fucking each other at this time?” “Remember to focus at our mission, ‘mkay?”

Although his multiple personalities often clash with each other, protecting you is always their top priority.

You have to be really patient and understanding when dating this man. His shifts from hot to cold personality, so some days he would be praising you, and then some other days he is giving you the cold shoulder

“I could do better than you” “You’re literally my whole world”

Poor man was lonely to death and gets a lot more unstable when you leave him alone. Like he would cry a river and put up some kinda tantrum if you’re not there with him to accompany him

You caught him one day with a clone version of you cuddling him to sleep. You weren’t sure if you call this cheating or cry that he was so lonely he even considered cloning you to be with him.

However when you cleared your throat announcing your return, his expression was a mixture of shock, relief and a hint of embarrassment

Though he immediately rushed over to you once he saw the real you standing at the doorway. “Why did you leave me all alone?!” “I never missed you, you know?”

Both you and the clone was standing there awkwardly with Jin still clinging at your side

“Are my boobs really that big?” you asked trying to break the tension

He would just grab them saying “It’s humongous!” then removing his hands and inspecting said boobs the very next seconds saying “Nah they’re perfect for me”

Eventually the clone returned to being a mud and both of you agreed to never clone yourself again unless he’s really really desperate

BONUS✨: Is very spontaneous with his affection one minute the two of you would be 6 feet apart watching some kid’s cartoon the next minute he would be crawling all over you asking you to suffocate him hold his head dearly against your bosoms 

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Little One (M)

Jung Hoseok Oneshot

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: You find yourself in a position where you must choose between certainly addicting or below-average satisfaction for the rest of your life.

•••> Pairing(s): Hoseok/Reader

•••> Requested by Anon: “Hey I was wondering if you could possibly do a Hoseok smut oneshot and like hes a super dom? Love you 💜”

•••> Word Count: 6.41k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: smut | ceo!au(?) | office!au | Hoseok!AU | Strangers to Lovers | Dominant!Hoseok | Submissive!Reader | 

•••> Warnings: smut, slight impreg!kink, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, mention(s) of masturbation, slight choking/strangulation, spanking, dirty talk, slight mention(s) of BDSM, dom/little one relationship, hobi is filthy, but he’s also respectful, cursing, pining, mild stalking?, alcohol use

Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for the request, anon! Sorry, it took me like a week to get it done, but here it is! I hope you enjoy :) I didn’t go back and edit it so please excuse any mistakes.

~#~

The light from the chandeliers of the ballroom dimmed as the night came undeniably closer to its end.

The event was organized by your company- a Friday evening to relax and celebrate the closing of another fiscal year. The flurries of snow that dusted the sidewalks outside the venue served as a reminder that the year, in itself, was coming to an end too.

Smooth, Christmas-themed jazz music acted as a factor in your sleepy demeanor, relaxing you into a comfortable glow of warmth despite failing your mission.

You were here strictly on business; there was no time to mess around and slack off. A handful of flutes of champagne and a double pour of whiskey- which you hardly ever drank- were enough to relax you and make you confident in the success of your duty to find a proper suitor to make you cum tonight.

In the past, you had tried flings with acquaintances and a few friends, but they had turned out to be absolutely disdainful in the fact that, despite them, you had only cum twice at the hands of another in the last year and a half. Instead, you wanted to give a one night stand a try- purely for research purposes, of course. Who knew? Maybe you were into the riskiness and detachment of it all.

As the hours passed, however, you found yourself slowly resorting to the quiet and dark corners of the room, sipping on another flute of champagne in hopeless surrender with your warm buzz fading pathetically.

Unbeknownst to you, a set of dark eyes had been tracking you for a good portion of the evening. On the prowl for its prey, the owner of those eyes weighed the options sat before him, but he needed to make sure you were alone before he could risk indulging too far.

There was no ring on your finger; no one bringing you a drink; no one you interacted with longer than a short greeting and the occasional hug.

It didn’t take him very long to realize that you were incredibly and unbelievably by your lonesome.

He couldn’t help the smirk from pulling up the corner of his lips while his friends spoke loudly around him. From his seat at the table, he had a perfect view of where you stood in the shadows, however, staring too hard could prove to be the downfall of his plan as he did not want to get caught. Instead, the glass of scotch in his hand held his gaze while he rolled the sphere of ice around it in thought. He would have to be patient.

He recognized the look of defeat when he saw one. He read the way your flawless lips had slowly formed a permanent scowl of self-pity as the minutes turned into hours.

What a pitiful look on such a gorgeous little thing. He mused in thought.

By the time your phone read 12:45 am, you accepted defeat in its ugliest form. Shoulders no longer held back with your chest out and back no longer purposely arched to attract anyone, you allowed yourself to slouch.

Fuck it. You thought. Guess it’s just another date night with my magic wand.

Sourly, you left the large room to retrieve your dress coat from the coat check counter, pulling out your phone to order your Uber once you gave the desk man your ticket.

In your hunt for a ride and the slight tipsiness of alcohol still in your system, you failed to notice the presence of someone behind you.

“Excuse me, Miss.“ You jumped, knees slightly buckling in the process, and turned to find a slightly familiar man dressed in a finely-tailored Armani suit standing behind you.

“Jesus.” You mumbled before speaking up. “You scared me.”

“I apologize for the intrusion.” He laughed, sending an unexpected rush of flutters through your chest and straight to your lower belly. “I just couldn’t help myself in worrying if you were going to get home safe.”

You studied him for a moment, trying to remember who he was. His undercut, despite being a more unpopular haircut around the office, exhumed modern professionalism. A few of his black hairs that were gelled back had fallen over his forehead after several hours of holding its form throughout the night. Milky brown eyes and a narrow nose sat upon his lightly tanned but beautifully contoured face with a dark pink set of lips to grace his regal-like look.

You couldn’t help the sense of familiarity as you gazed at him. Instead of addressing his statement, you blurted out your thoughts, curiosity getting the best of you.

“I’m sorry, but… do I know you? You look so familiar to me.” He was about to respond when the desk man came back to the front with your coat in hand. Before you could reach out to grab it from him, your mystery man was taking it from his grasp.

“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He smiled, holding your coat out for you to place your arm in. So he’s a Jung, huh? Maybe he’s related to the chairman. Would be a nice snag for the night.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You held your hand out to shake his once you successfully slid both arms into the coat. With a smoothness uncanny to any man’s hands you’ve ever felt, he took your fingers in his grasp and leaned down to touch his lips to your knuckles.

“Believe me, Ms. Y/N.” His eyes lifted to meet yours as the warm surface of his lips met your skin followed by the warm teasing exhale of his breath. You suppressed a whimper from growing in your throat. “The pleasure is all mine.”

He stood straight abruptly, shocking you out of your stupor. “So is Uber your way of getting home tonight?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve had a few drinks and I was planning on it, so I didn’t drive here.” You replied to him, hoping he would fall for the action and jump in. He nodded his head in understanding whilst you falsely resumed the task of securing a ride from a few moments ago. Please ask to take me home. Please don’t be nonchalant.

“Are you returning home alone?” Hook, line and sinker.

“Yes, I am. I do have a cat to welcome me though, so no need to worry.” You joked, hoping to push him along and give him the hint that you were very single and very available at the moment.

Deciding that your conversation should be taken outside and away from the prying eyes of your associates, you made your way out the door and into the crisp night as you spoke. The small flurries of snow began lightly pelleting your face, catching on your eyelashes. Hoseok followed close behind you, intent on listening to what you had to say.

You came to a stop on the sidewalk and faced him, shivering slightly.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your homecoming with your cat. I’m sure he misses you dearly.” He smiled smugly, his breath forming visibly in front of him. Wow. So he’s an intellectual. He knows the game.

Fine. I’ll play.

“The homecoming won’t be too glorious. He doesn’t even greet me at the door.” You faked a pout.

Hoseok took a step closer, eliminating some of the distance between the two of you and effectively removing acquaintanceship from the air between you as he spoke. His previous polite behavior wavered slightly, transitioning your small talk “Oh? Is that so? Why?”

“I’m pretty sure he hates me even though I feed him and give him a roof over his head every day.” You chuckled with an air of breathlessness. “He’s a brat.”

“And are you?” He took another step and circled his arm around you to place his hand on your lower back, chest lightly brushing against yours. He was radiating an incredible amount of heat through the layers of his suit. You almost missed the random question with the way your vaginal floor tightened in anticipation.

“A-am I what?” You stuttered, looking up into his eyes and quickly crumbling. You hoped that he would catch you past the heady sensation of lust that crowded your veins.

“A brat.” He graveled, lifting his hand to pinch your chin between his thumb and index finger. You gasped and couldn’t help bringing your lower lip between your teeth as you were rendered silent, biting down in an attempt to use the pain as a distraction from the pooling of desire in your belly and panties. Good god, he just went right in.

Hoseok’s thumb brushed over your trapped lip, dragging it out and pinning it below his nail before he leaned in. His lips, inches from yours, held your attention and his eyes, locked on your own lips, grew dark with arousal. You thought he was going to kiss you but, instead, he only tutted and answered his own question for you. “So you are.”

The taste of his breath on your tongue was sinful with the tangible scent of his scotch overpowering the aftertaste of your whiskey and champagne. His cologne surrounded you, turning your body into a live wire as your olfactory senses were ambushed with his masculine musk.

“I’m going to need an actual answer when I ask you this, little one.” He whispered, lips mere millimeters from brushing yours. All you could do was gulp and nod in suspense of his question- but he wasn’t having it. He squeezed your chin sternly. “Verbalize.”

“O-okay.” You croaked through the lump in your throat. Hoseok smiled and released your chin from his grip, sliding his hand to your cheek to caress it instead.

“Good enough… for now.” He drew his own lip between his teeth as he slightly pulled away to scan your body in his grasp. His eyes locked on yours again, the closeness of his face scrambling your thoughts completely.

“May I be the one to take you home tonight, Ms. Y/N?” He asked genuinely.

With almost no hesitation, your desperation rose to the surface once more. “Yes. Yes, you may.”

It took mere seconds for Hoseok to back away and wave his hand in the air before a black SUV pulled up in front of the two of you. Grabbing onto your hand, he tugged you towards the vehicle.

“Mine or yours?” You asked as he opened the door for you to slide yourself across the leather seats to settle towards the far window. Following suit and settling behind the passenger seat, he spoke.

“Hm… Are you alright with coming to mine?” He asked, crowding himself on you as he shut the door behind him. His closeness was suffocating- in a good way. The way you felt the heat from his face on yours reminded you of just how close the two of you were about to get.

“I’m alright with anything, Hoseok.” You breathed, eyelashes fluttering in pure bliss. Your panties were clinging to your heat uncomfortably, begging to be removed.

“Be careful of what you say, darling. I might get a little excited.” He laughed lowly. Turning to his driver, he quickly ordered him to take him home. For a brief moment, you wondered what his place looked like and where it was.

Hoseok’s beauty was uncanny; even in the dark, you marveled at his features as the shadows of the street lights passed over them. His hands were constantly attached to you yet no kiss had been shared, causing your nerves to run rampant with tension and excitement.

After a short fifteen-minute ride, the vehicle pulled up in front of large gates and you gazed in wonder at the house that stood behind them. Situated up a small hill past a large courtyard with a giant fountain in the middle was a mansion. The mansion, from what you could see in the night, was dark brown in color due to the bricks it was built by. The fountain lit the front of it in a soft multicolored glow as it transitioned between colors.

“Wow.” You breathed, eyes locked on it as the gate opened and you were dropped off at the front steps into the cold of the night.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” He asked from behind you, his body heat immediately returning to your cold form.

“Absolutely.” You turned to him as you whispered, noticing the snowflakes gathering in his hair. Even as your bones chattered from how little your dress and coat properly covered your body, you still felt the heat of want flooding your veins and warming your blood deliciously. Looking into his eyes felt like the call of the wild, the sun, and anything and everything that could cause the bout of excitement and pure joy in your heart.

You just hoped he was able to make you cum tonight. At this point, with his beauty and smooth game, getting you to cum was just a plus.

“Y/N.” He muttered, taking a step to you while pushing you against the large front door to his manor.

“Yes?” You answered nervously, heart racing in your chest. Could he hear it?

“May I open my door?” He chuckled. You quickly looked behind you and realized that you were blocking the slot for his key, quickly moving to the side and rushing an apology with a blush on your cheeks. Looking at the ground, you waited until he opened the door behind you to look back up.

He was pulling you by the waist into his foyer before you could fully look at him again. “C’mere.”

Shutting the door behind you, he pressed you against the wall and pressed a kiss to your lips unexpectedly. Finally. Oh, good god he tastes so good.

His lips moved tentatively at first, smoothly molding yours to his will and pressing against your body with his. Hoseok placed his hands on your hips, sliding them delicately up your sides to your shoulders and under your coat, sliding it off with ease. He was pulling away before you could fully kiss him back, your lips chasing after his in dislike of the loss of contact.

“I’m sorry,” He heaved. “I couldn’t control myself for a moment.”

“No, Hoseok,” You whispered, sliding your hand to the back of his neck and bringing his face back to yours. “It’s okay. I want you to.” He pulled you tightly to his body with a hissed breath between his teeth.

“What? What do you want me to do, Y/N?” He picked you up by the backs of your thighs and you squealed in surprise. Automatically, you locked your ankles around him, cocktail dress making it easy to spread your legs. Hoseok continued to speak before you could reply, carrying you up the stairs as you stared intently at him. “Do you want me to nail your pussy into the bed? Do you want me to rail you until you lose your voice? Do you want me to spank you until you get welts? What? What do you want me to do?”

Wow.

Again, he made you speechless. The way his change of pace had victoriously shut you the fuck up for the second time was shocking. 

Hoseok shoving you against the wall next to a door and grinding his hips into your own pulled you from the silence-rendering shock.

“Fucking speak, Y/N. What do you want?” He said sharply.

“I want it all- all of it. Please.” You were quick to reply as his domineering tone sunk into the pores of your skin whilst you whimpered from the friction. He only smiled and took one hand out from under your leg to open the door.

“As you wish, little one.” He smirked. Swiftly, he brought you into the dark room. How he found his way to the bed, you were unsure, for even a person living in a room for years has a difficult time finding their way under such circumstances- and he was carrying you. Regardless of your wonder, you still felt the cool sheets of his bed below you as he threw you onto it with a grunt.

You laid there in the dark, confusion following when he did not follow you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyes attempting to adjust themselves. Hoseok chuckled, the sound ensuring you that he did not move from his spot in front of you.

“I must undress first before I can fuck you.” He laughed lowly. You blushed again, realizing that the removal of clothes was definitely a necessity. You moved to strip off your dress when he abruptly stopped you. “No. Don’t. I will undress you.”

You laid back in wait, listening to the ruffling of his clothes as you heard the articles hit the ground one by one. The sound of his belt unbuckling reawakened the jitters in your limbs, excitement reappearing in the form of more of your juices in your panties.

A deep ache sat itself on your clit, pulsing away with your heartbeat in an almost painful sensation. Trembling, you reached a hand down to relieve some of the pressure that built up over the past hour, emitting a quiet sigh from your lips once you lightly cupped your heat.

Briefly, you felt the mattress dip in front of you before his body covered yours. Tearing your hand away from your pulsing heat quickly, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to allow him to slot himself onto your body. The warm, smooth skin of his arms underneath yours felt heavenly yet extremely intimate.

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?” He muttered onto the exposed skin of your neck, grinding himself into you and eliciting a mewl from your throat. He cracked a hand down on the side of your thigh, the hot lick of pain doing wonders to your clenched core.

“I’m sorry,” You whined as he slowly rocked against you again. “It was just hurting so bad.”

“Don’t touch yourself.” He said, pulling away to glide his hands over your calves and thighs. “That’s my job.”

In the darkness, you were beginning to make out Hoseok’s figure; a dark and foreboding form that covered your own- and he was moving downward.

“I was watching you all night.” He pressed his nose to the skin of your inner thigh, inhaling deeply. “And I just can’t find it in myself to believe that someone let you go to that thing alone.”

It was hard to think with Hoseok so close to where you needed him, but it didn’t stop the words from slipping past your lips. “Well, you obviously came alone too. How did someone let you go alone?”

Hoseok chuckled in response, tracing his nose up to your hamstrings before moving further, passing your hip bone to trail over your underwear.

“I have a very particular taste in women and you happen to be the one I was looking for.” You froze for a moment as you felt his teeth on your skin, goosebumps littering your skin again. “You smell so damn good.”

He passed his nose and mouth over your abdomen before you felt his mouth latch onto your panties and bring them down. Your heart rate picked up once more.

“Hoseok.” You breathed, watching his figure as he pulled your underwear to your knees before grabbing them with his hands and sliding them the rest of the way off.

“Y/N.” He whispered in response. “I’m going to ruin you.”

Hoseok slid his hands back up your legs, sliding under your dress and grabbing it to pull it off you.

Once your dress hit the floor, you expected him to go for your heals, but all he did was sit back and stare.

“Y/N, before we start, I must insist that you choose your safeword.” His large hand made itself present on your naked waist, gripping it lightly.

Shock filled your veins and caused a mild sense of panic within you. “S-safeword?” You stuttered. He was one of those people? Fuck. I’ve never done anything like that before.

“I assure you that I will not bring you harm and that we won’t do anything like that… yet.” You quivered under the word. “Things like that require a contract so that I have your explicit consent. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”

“That’s…” You trailed off. “Actually amazing.”

“What, that there’s a contract?” He asked, scooping his arms under you to pick up your body and move you to the headboard.

“No, that you’re actually asking.” You replied, staring at the contours of his body that was now punctuated by the small amount of moonlight streaming in through his window.

“I can promise you that I never do anything like that without asking.” His voice, volume a mere breath, feathered deliciously over the skin of your chest as he looked down at you. “It’s why I am asking you to tell me what you want me to do. I don’t want to become a danger to you.”

You raised your handle to cradle his cheek, wondering how in the world someone who looked like this could be a danger to you, however, you knew that there were much more dangerous games to play than the one you had played with him earlier.

Hoseok leaned into your touch as you spoke with a newfound sense of confidence in his words, an unfamiliar sense of reassurance filling you. “My safeword will be consent, then. And Hoseok? Ask me what I want and I will answer you.”

“Y/N.” He hovered over you to ghost his lips over yours. “What do you want me to do?”

You moved your hand from his cheek to tangle in his hair. “I want you to touch me.”

“Thank god.” Hoseok delivered a soft smack straight to your heat as he smothered you with his lips, the quick contact forcing a whimper to burst from you into his mouth. He was quick to smooth it with a caress of his fingers straight to your clit, shock subsiding into pleasure.

At this point, you’re drenched. Constantly flexing your walls around nothing had created an accumulation of your wetness between the lips of your pussy. Hoseok groaned when he began spreading it around your bundle of nerves.

“May I eat you out? Please?” He pulled his lips from yours and pressed his thumb to you, softly rubbing circles. Your thighs spasmed every so often.

“Yes, Hoseok, yes.” You wobbled. His lips and eyes, now visible, pulled into a grin as he lowered himself down your body.

Without warning, he pressed his face into you, tongue out and lips agape. Immediately, you brought your hands to his hair with a low, breathy groan building in your chest. He started with zero hesitation.

Hands holding you by your thighs, he licked once, then twice, and then shoved his tongue past your folds to slightly enter you. You couldn’t help the groan as it escaped you, tossing your head back and widening your legs for him. He removed one of his hands from your leg, realizing he didn’t need to do much to keep you pliant, and used it to spread your lips further apart.

Blissed out and not paying attention, you didn’t feel his eyes on you as he surveyed your body, growing dangerously hard as he watched you slowly rock yourself into him. Your breasts swayed just slightly with the movement and his hungry eyes struggled to capture your entire body all at once. Experimentally, he slid a finger into your heat, loving how one of your hands that was tangled in his hair yanked back to tangle into your own.

He dropped his tongue back to your clit as he watched your body, a beautiful instrument that he was playing to produce the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

You were in complete bliss. Hoseok laved his tongue over you in rhythm with his finger as he began pumping you. You couldn’t think straight anymore. The texture of his tongue was slightly rougher than the fragile skin of your folds, sending you into a quivering mess as you felt it attack you with fervor.

It wasn’t long before you were approaching your first orgasm that Hoseok added a second finger, the feel of the stretch paired with his tongue truly exquisite. You were losing your mind if your wails of pleasure were any sign of that.

The knot that began forming in your lower belly had begun to pull your legs closed as it was pulled tighter with each stroke of Hoseok’s tongue and fingers.

“Hoseok-“ You moaned past your labored breaths, gasping aloud. “I think I’m-“

“Then cum on my face, little one. Give it to me.” He moaned with you, pumping his fingers into you with the pads dipping against that specific spongy spot within you.

To say your orgasm was glorious was a heavy understatement. Your legs clapped against the sides of his head, trapping his face against you as he pulled his fingers out, tongue pushing past your folds into your pussy to welcome the juices that rushed out of your tremoring walls. His lips sloppily locked with you as if in a heated french kiss, driving you to a babbling mess whilst you let your climax riddle your body into a trembling heap. Breathless and high with ecstasy, you felt the strokes of his tongue lick you up and assist your spasms of sensitivity.

“Fuck.” You croaked, staring up at the ceiling which you then noticed was graced with a large chandelier, the crystals twinkling in the moonlit room like stars. Hoseok moved over you again, obstructing your view with his face that glistened with your release.

“Y/N,” He whispered, voice almost straining. “What else do you want me to do?”

You took a moment to look down, noticing his considerable, weeping erection mere inches from touching your skin with a pearly bead of cum at the tip glinting at you teasingly. Your mouth watered despite your post-orgasm stupor. He’s fucking huge.

Your response was almost automatic and robotic as you lifted your eyes back to his.

“I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Hoseok was quick to kiss you again, groaning with relief while he lowered his body to yours. The sheen of sweat that covered your skin caused his to slightly stick to yours. The weight of his cock on your stomach and the taste of yourself on his lips only made you press your shaking body up to his in anticipation, locking your ankles around his back.

“Y/N,” He muttered in between his kisses. “You may call me Hobi if you’d like. My full name is a little difficult to scream coherently.”

“Hobi?” You tested the name on your tongue, distracted, before smiling at him. “I like it.”

“Very good. Use it as much as you’d like.” He smirked, reaching for his cock to rub it into your pussy lips, spreading them slightly so that it massaged your clit and folds. The halted groan that Hoseok choked down proved that the feel of you on his dick affected him just as much as the feel of his dick affected you. “You’re wet as fuck.”

“Only for you.” You moaned, widening your legs to allow him more room. You held your breath as he gripped himself and positioned.

Slowly, Hoseok entered you. You were wet and prepared enough that the stretch of his girth was only mildly uncomfortable- not painful. The hiss drawn in between his clenched and bared teeth made you bristle with pride as you were able to make him feel good.

You watched the way your bodies slid together, inch by magnificent inch. The sight overpowered any previous exhaustion you felt from the first orgasm. You became completely hyperaware from the way he had seemed to reach the end of you, stuffing you full, with a bit more of him still unsheathed. Dammit. You want to fit him all.

“Shit.” He spluttered and hiccuped, causing you to realize that he was holding his breath. “You’re tight.”

Gathering your legs up into his arms, he began fucking you just as you wished.

He began his pace brutally, hips snapping into yours with abandon and stunning precision. Despite wanting to watch him, your eyes couldn’t focus, constantly fighting the urge to roll to the back of your head. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he leaned over and spread you wide.

“H-Hobi.” You sobbed. The sounds of your pussy slurping on Hoseok’s dick was ungodly, yet you couldn’t help but love the sound of him invading your depths with your body greedily taking him in.

You felt his cock deep within you as if he was pushing into your lungs with each surge of his body into yours. Could you breathe? You quickly determined that yes, you could breathe, because of the loud sounds that you made that were a mix of gasps and screams.

Sweat began dribbling down Hoseok’s forehead, gelled hair now damp and falling over his face into his eyes with a look of determined ecstasy plastered across his features. His eyes, accompanied by his drawn up eyebrows, focused in concentration on where your bodies met before scaling up the expanse of your bodies, locking on your breasts bouncing with the hammering force. Hoseok brought his hand down to rub circles into your clit so that he could watch you squirm even more.

Still sensitive from your first orgasm, the second came to you much quicker. With Hoseok grunting over you, his dick railing into your heat like a jackhammer, and the feel of just him, you were coming undone quickly. Grasping onto his neck with one hand and using the other to dig your nails into his back, you began caving in on yourself, unable to leave any muscle relaxed whilst your climax approached. Your legs tensed, heels digging into the globes of his ass to bring him on top of you.

“You really want my cum, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly, to which you only managed to nod and release a quick mhm. Hoseok’s growl in your ear only brought you closer. “I’m going to pump you full of my kids, little one. Just be patient.”

But being patient was impossible with the way he was in your guts and the fact that he had slowed his rhythm in exchange for more depth. Stroke after punishing stroke, you could feel his tip battering your cervix, the slight pain making for a dizzying sensation as it mixed with the onslaught of his thumb on your swollen nub. The concern that he could possibly get you pregnant was only an after thought as you were on the pill, but you had to admit that thinking about taking Hoseok’s seed straight into your womb was a sinfully pleasing idea.

He was much too deep; too far into the pits of your stomach for you to fathom how you had never been fucked this thoroughly before. You were going to fucking die. You were going to be killed if you didn’t stop it now. There was no way you wouldn’t come back begging for more if you didn’t stop now. He would own you because you would be obsessed- but he would want nothing to do with you come morning.

You desperately tried to escape him, legs digging into the mattress to push yourself away in order to gain some sense of mind, but you only crowded yourself further into the headboard with Hoseok following you, wrapped around you, on you, in you- everywhere. Hoseok delivered a solid smack straight to the underside of your ass, the ‘clap’ resonating through the room and mixing with the slurping sounds of your body eagerly pulling him in.

“Don’t you run from me, baby. Take it like a big girl.” He smiled devilishly whilst wrapping a hand around your neck, forcing your gaze to meet his. You sobbed loudly, clawing at his back in a fruitless attempt to detach him from your body. Hopelessly, you tried to press your hand to his stomach in an effort to push him away.

His grip tightened slightly on the sides of your neck, effectively leaving your airway unbothered yet the blood flow to your head stinted. “Move-” He thrust into you roughly, triggering a cry from your lips through the lightheaded feeling of being mildly strangled. “Your fucking hand.”

What was the damned safeword? Your thoughts were jumbled as you tried to remember it, yet you found yourself wondering why you were trying to remember when he wasn’t hurting you in the slightest. The ache in your cervix was an unholy and iniquitous sensation that you found yourself literally drooling out the side of your mouth for. You were fucking addicted to it.

“Hobi!” You cried, tears welling up in your eyes as you called for him. You couldn’t wait any longer. You were about to cum and nothing could stop it. “Hobi!”

“Cum on my dick, Y/N. That’s it. Swallow me up.” He muttered softly, aggression in his tone completely gone as he softened his hold on you in order to focus on ravishing your heat.

You brought him in one last time, body seizing and clawing for him as if you wanted to completely absorb him into yourself, before your orgasm exploded on you in the form of your juices rushing from your snatch around his girth. Mere moments after, before your orgasm was done climaxing, Hoseok came with a curse, pressing himself entirely inside you to spill his cum onto your abused cervix.

In the decrescendo of your orgasm, you found your mind and body unreservedly satisfied.

This man, Jung Hoseok, was a god- in the purest human form. Your entire world was shaken as he panted over you, sweat dripping down both of your bodies. It was no use trying to reason any other way that he had ruined you for any other man on the planet. You had gone through such a dry spell only to be welcomed back by him? You were going to be one spoiled brat if you ever hoped to bed another man again; you knew that, even as a one-night stand, there was no other like him.

With a sore, pulsing body and a slowly calming heart, you watched him as he removed himself from the bed. “Hold onto yourself for a second, will you?” He asked, bringing your hand down to stop his cum from leaking out of your depths. The touch of your fingers on your heat warranted a gasp of oversensitivity, causing him to smirk at you while he got up. He seemed to smile to himself as he mused, “Maybe next time.”

You watched him as he approached a set of doors in the dark, contemplating his words. Next time? My god, yes, please.

Reaching for a towel, you got a divine view of him from the back, perfectly muscular, and plump in the right areas. He looked as if he was sculpted by the Greeks themselves.

You tried to speak but your voice cracked into silence, making you clear your throat to try again. “There’s a next time?”

He turned around quickly with the dark towel in hand, stalking towards you. “If you desire one, that is.”

“Oh! I do very much…” You trailed off as you realized how fast you were to respond to his statement. You grew quiet in embarrassment. “… desire a… next time.” All Hoseok did was grin down at you, eyes flickering to your hold on your core. He was quick to help you clean his essence from your body while he chuckled.

“I guess I made a good impression on you?” He laughed lightly as you laid there, vulnerable and spread out before him in the glow of his aftercare.

“You could say that…” You blushed, turning to look out the window into the night, grateful that it was too dark for him to see the embarrassing flush.

“I hope I satisfied your needs, Y/N. Please tell me if I didn’t.” Hoseok turned serious, lightly placing his fingers on your arm in a feather-light caress so that you would look at him.

“No! No.” You were quick to jump in and assure him. “You were… amazing. The best I’ve ever had, in fact.”

“Really?” He asked whilst tossing the soiled towel to the floor. “And why do you say that?”

You shrunk under his gaze as he laid back in the bed with you, circling his arms around you to roll the two of you over to the side that wasn’t wet with your cum in the sheets. He wasn’t going to kick you out? No. Don’t jump to conclusions. He’s probably just trying to be nice. “Let’s just say that my past escapades were a little less than satisfactory.”

Hoseok sat with his elbow propping him up so that he could look down at you.

“Y/N,” His eyes turned concerned. “When was the last time you had a proper orgasm?”

Stupidly, you replied almost monotonously. “Uh… a few nights ago with my vibra-“

“No. No.” He chuckled, cutting you off. “I meant when was the last time someone else gave you a proper orgasm?”

“Oh, god.” You laughed. You raised your hands to cover your face. “Probably about… ten months ago? Give or take.”

“That explains the brattiness earlier.” He snickered. You only looked at him in confusion. 

He looked back at you, waiting for you to understand, but you were only drawing a blank. Hoseok looked down and grimaced in disdain, shaking his head slightly. With his free hand, he placed it on the side of your neck, thumb brushing your cheek delicately. “You haven’t been taken care of, little one. Would you like me to properly take care of you?”

Hoseok began to lightly trace patterns with his thumb while his eyes searched yours for an answer. Gulping, you nodded and breathed the word ‘yes.’ Are we about to go again?

“Good.” He said lowly, ghosting his lips over yours. Oh fuck, we’re going again. Your heartbeat skipped back into the race, accelerating in speed.

As quickly as he leaned into you, he pulled away and stood up. “We’ll start by getting something to eat because I’m hungry as fuck and I didn’t see you eat anything at the ball. What’re we feeling, McDonald’s?”

And good lord. If you weren’t addicted and stupidly in love then, you were now.

~#~

If you’d like to read more of my work, feel free to check out my Series Masterlist! If you’d like to read my first fic, check out the DHYB Masterlist!

[heartofsnark]

He’s Not Real, She’s Not Pretending (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; Sooooooo, I’m posting porn for a game that won’t be out in 20 days, that I just started to seriously look at 2 days ago, but ummmm Johnny Silverhand like fuck man. He’s living rent free in my head both in game and irl. I already have an oc and I really wanted some fuck, so my V is named Aidan, she is a baby and a a slut in this context. This is completely based off oh hey, if we fuck in game, and Johnny in brain, Johnny watch us fuck. And then it spiraled. 

Word Count: 4303

Chapter Warnings: Voyeurism, Unprotected Oral Sex, Blowjobs, Cum Swallowing,  Protected Vaginal Sex, One Night Stand/Semi Anonymous Sex, Calling out the wrong name, MMF Threesome, but like while he gets laid Johnny is like lowkey cucking this guy but he don’t even know cause he can’t see the man cucking him, its weird, metal fingers on clit, like that’s a thing here, cumming on someone/semi-facial???? And the weirdest thing to explain is like, she’s deaf and takes out her hearing aids, so she’ll only hear johnny since he’s in her head that bypasses hearing damage, so like, disability device being removed for sex????? What is this??? Who knows?????

Edit: I HAD A FUCKIN SENIOR CITIZEN MOMENT AND FORGOT TO MENTION; @enchantedbythebidders IS ALSO TO BLAME BECAUSE SHE HELPED PUT THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD, SO THIS IS NOT ALL MY FAULT!

“Really, this guy?” Johnny scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning against the bar. Aidan is once again somewhat thankful that no one else can hear the long dead Rockstar that lives in her head. 

She pretends she doesn’t hear him either, despite him being the one voice other than her own who she can hear no matter what. The man standing in front of her is attractive, as far as she’s concerned, over 6ft with plenty of muscle and some cybernetics glinting against the side of his shaved head. The alcohol in her system has made it easier to ignore Johnny, but it brings the reason she’s here to the forefront of her mind. 

Aidan needs to get laid, plain and simple. She hasn’t had a proper orgasm since Johnny started living rent free in her head. There’s a certain level of embarrassment at just how easily and maybe even unavoidably peeps on her. He pops visibly into the world whenever he feels convienet, for him that is, and seems to make a habit of making sure she knows he’s there when she’s in some state of undress. Johnny’s watched her change without a hint of shame, making comments on her body and laughing at her reactions, like he’s not the weirdo. He’s sat in the bathroom while she showers, talking to her about plans of burning the city down, like she wasn’t fucking naked. 

Safe to say, she hasn’t ventured into what would happen if she tried to get off with him around. She doesn’t need him making snide comment while she has a hand in her panties. But, with a hookup, another person and a decent amount of booze. She may just be able to distract and loosen herself up enough that she won’t even notice him, though he has a habit of making himself impossible to ignore. But regardless, the former nomad needs this, she’s constantly tense and finding herself horny at every provocation, her dumb sexually frustrated lizard is even starting to think Johnny’s hot which is not a road she needs to traverse. Talking to the ghost in your brain is one thing, trying to find out if his holographic form comes with a dick is another. 

“You do remember I can hear your thoughts, right, Samurai?”  

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted?” The guy, who’s name she’s already forgotten, asks. As if she needed more reason to ignore Johnny. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, there’s just been something kind of annoying nagging at the back of my mind. But I’m good, you wanna get out of here?” 

“Yeah, sounds good, there’s a motel not far from here.” 

“What are we waiting for then?” 

“Ugh,” Johnny groans and rolls his eyes, evaporating into cyan static as Aidan leaves with her bedmate for the night. 

Hands reach up into her bleached bob as the man presses Aidan against the door, his lips against hers, a strangers tongue roaming her mouth. She puts her hand over his, attempting to move it lower, as nice as her hair and face being touched is… This isn’t romance, she wants to be groped, manhandled, to feel him squeeze her ass or shove his hand down her pants. Even at the door before they’ve entered the room, she just wants to get fucked. But he doesn’t get the memo. His hand doesn’t move from cupping the back of her head. 

“Didn’t go for brains, did ya?” Johnny’s voice taunts and Aidan bites down harder on the stranger’s buttom lip than needed, her annoyance for Johnny seeping through her actions. 

Normally, when someone annoys the everloving fuck out of her, as Johnny is so prone too. She’d remove her hearing aids, submit herself to silence until they get bored and fuck off. But, Johnny’s in her fucking head, his voice echoing through her mind as clearly as her own thoughts, the only noise in this world she can’t shut off. 

Aidan reaches behind her, opening the motel door and stepping into it, tugging the guy, what the hell was his name again, in by the bottom of his t-shirt. Kiss broken, she watches as he closes the door behind him, right in the holographic Johnny’s face. If that would actually prevent him from following, she’d be ecstatic. She’s sure he’ll be back in a moment, because he’s never fucking gone for more than a heartbeat. Doesn’t matter, she decides, this isn’t about Johnny. It’s about scratching her itch and cumming. She yank her shirt off over her head and throws her bra after it, whats-his-name, blinks for a moment before his eyes look over her breasts; pale and freckled. It was sudden, a quick cut to the chase, and she knows that. 

“I, uh, really fuckin’ need this.” She admits, face flushing. 

“Hey, no need to beat around the bush then,” the guy laughs, and he has such a pretty smile, she wishes she remembered his name. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you that damn desperate?” Johnny’s laugh mingles with the strangers, now plopped down on a chair in the motel room, “you gonna start humping his leg, next?” 

The chair is positioned just across from the small room’s bed, Aidan and her partner standing beside it, between where Johnny sits and the old mattress. Johnny sits casual, strewn with his legs wide open, at the perfect vantage point to stare dead on at Aidan and what-his-face. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just that annoying persistent nagging fuckin’ thought,” she grumbles, tapping the back of her head, she’d give anything to rip that fuckin’ chip out right now.

“We don’t have to if you’re-“

“No, no, uh, if you’re still up for it, I really really want this.” It’s so sweet of him to offer to stop and she recognizes that but dear lord that kindness is not what she wants right now. She needs someone to fuck her brains out, so Johnny will leave with them. 

“You’d probably be getting laid more if you didn’t act like a nutjob, you know that?” Johnny cuts in, that too pretty cocky smirk across his face. And he probably heard that too, fuck. 

“Okay, if you’re sure,” the stranger says, pulling his shirt off over his head, Aidan’s eyes following down the line of hair that vanishes into his jeans. She kicks off her boots and starts unbuttoning her jeans, waiting for him to get the message. As nice as his chest is, she needs his dick, like yesterday. In her mouth, her cunt, anywhere, she just fucking needs it. 

“I’d be puking if I could,” Johnny taunts again, but he’s laughing dark and deeply, no hint of disgust, “really had to wind up in a cock whore’s head, didn’t I?” 

He could always leave, she nearly tells him so, but stops herself. Knowing it’d confuse and or frighten her hookup. Instead, she kicks off her jeans, leaving her in nothing but her panties as the stranger starts to undo his own jeans. Her thighs are clenching and she’s already slick. 

“My entire existence is in your head, so no, I can’t help but see your little show. So, if I’m stuck watching it, I might as well have some fun with it too.” 

He wants to see a fucking show? She can give him a goddamn show.  

Stranger drops his jeans, kicking out of them along with his shoes. And Aidan doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knees in front of him, she’s practically drooling as she pulls down his boxers, hearing him curse above her. He’s already hard, leaking pre-cum, and hot in her grasp. She licks up the length the next moment, dragging the silver ball piercing in her tongue along it, wetting the underside with drool. 

“Oh fuck…” 

“Fuck.” 

Johnny’s and the stranger’s curses mingle, she tries not to worry about what the forgotten rockerboy is thinking, why he’d curse like she’s drooling on his dick and not a rando’s. Whatever he’s going through is his own fucking problem, he’s the one who wanted to treat her like his own personal porno flick. She teases her tongue across the head of his cock, licking along every curve of it, then lapping where pre-cum drips out. Aidan gives a moan when she tastes it, trying to convince her bedmate it’s the best thing she’s ever had. And while it’s more a faint bitterness, the mere fact she’s tasting cock makes her insides clench.��

She looks up with big gray eyes, her pick of the night has his eyes closed, biting his lip at the feeling of her on his dick. And then she takes him down her throat, gagging softly at the resistance there as she pushes her head down further. Determination, she takes him until her nose is flushed to his hips. Her jaw aches at the stretch but she ignore it in favor of swallowing around his dick, letting the muscles squeeze around him. It’s hot and heavy in her mouth, twitching in and leaking in her throat. Aidan holds still for a moment, just swallowing and moving her tongue around him, imagining how the length of him  will fit inside of her cunt. 

Then the ache is a bit too much, the need to breath a bit too strong, and he’s murmuring curses as she pulls off of him completely. She keeps her mouth open wide, panting and showing off the way saliva still connects her mouth to his cock. 

Johnny curses and she sees him in the chair from her peripheral, watching with heavy lidded eyes as she sucks cock. She spares a side glance at a shift of movement, silver arm glinting as it catches the light, she realizes he’s rubbing his own cock through his pants. There’s a noticeable tent forming, which may answer a previous question… Her face goes brighter red, but she pushes through, this isn’t about Johnny or at least it shouldn’t be. 

And she’s back on the stranger’s dick, sucking him off in earnest as she bobs her head up and down the length of him. Never quite as deep as the first swallow, but she moves as far down his cock as her new pace will allow. Occasionally feeling the head teasing the back of her throat. Fingers entangle with her hair as she reaches a hand to play with his balls, squeezing and massaging them, his groans have gotten louder, testicles drawn tight. He has to be close, she wants her reward for a job well done. 

“I’m gonna cum…fuck…” He warns and she pulls back for a second, gently clenching the base of her cock between her fingers to help stop him from shooting his load right that minute. 

“You want to cum on me or in my mouth?” She gives him his options and he whines, she expected to be the one tossed around and fucked raw, but it’s becoming more obvious she picked out a guy who’d rather be bossed around a bit. Even if it’s not what she was looking for, she’ll take it, happily. 

“Can’t fuckin’ think right now,” he groans, “just wanna cum, please.” 

“On your face and tits,” Johnny says, low and husky, making it clear he has no trouble making a choice. Though, judging by his cock still being tucked away in his leather pants, he’s not quite as cum-brained as her hookup. 

And after a moment of considering Johnny’s request, Aidan wraps her lips around the man’s dick and gives a hard suck, letting go of the pressure around him. He groans as he cums directly down her throat, hot heavy spurts of it on her tongue. She swallows every last drop, not letting any of it touch her face or chest. 

“Bitch.” 

She swallows the last bit, grinning at Johnny’s insult, as she strokes the stranger through the last of his after shocks. Aidan stands up, she’s still in her panties, now soaked through with slick. She turns to face the bed, her ass now to Johnny and her hookup, allowing them a view as she purposely bends over to peel her panties off. Allowing both men to see her slick aching cunt; panties in hand, she turns back to face them. And she tosses them at Johnny with a devious smirk, to the unnamed stranger, she threw them to empty chair. But her and the ghostly anarchist, within their own reality that exist merely due to a chip in her head, her panties landed in his lap. His hand grabbing the wet black silk and wrapping them around her fist. 

She’s not sure how it works, far from a techie in her knowledge, but she can see him interact with objects. From smoking cigarettes to leaning his weight against whatever he sees fit, after all if he couldn’t interact with anything in the physical world he’d phase through the chair, floor, and everything around them. But to everyone else it’s not seen, the objects just laying flat and useless. 

The stranger’s hand grasps her hip, in her personal space within the moment, having stroked his cock back to full erection. 

“Want me to return the favor?” He offers to eat her out and she’s surprised at the heat that rushes up her cheeks, despite just slobbering on his cock the question makes her blush. 

“Let him do it,” Johnny says with a drawn out groan, her panties still in his hand as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock out, “wanna see you get licked.” 

Would have though he’d have learned by now, she’s not interested in fulfilling his requests. 

“Fuckin’ really,” he curses out at the thought, realizing he won’t get what he wants from her and he can’t do anything about it. His voice is edged and sharp, a hint of anger. 

“Appreciate the thought, but I need you in me, bad. That okay?” 

“Sounds good, I got a condom in my jeans, give me a second.” He starts to rifle through his abandoned jeans and jacket, Aidan clenching her thighs as she waits, she’s finally about to get what she needs most. 

“He’s not gonna fuck you right.” 

She tries hard not to audibly groan at Johnny’s words or watch the slow drag of his hand over his cock. Then she notices the black fabric he presses against himself, using to jerk himself off, her panties. Aidan likely deserves that, but she’s more distressed over the way it makes her insides clench than worries of the fabric. Though given what he is, she’ll probably find them virtually untouched later. 

“I’m serious, Samurai, he’s not gonna give you what your after. He’s too soft for you, can’t fuck you the way you need.” 

Shut up, Johnny, she rolls her eyes letting the sentiment ring out in both of their minds. 

“Got it,” her date, if you can call it that, returns with condom in hand, she takes it from his hand. 

“Lay back on the bed, I’ll take care of everything,” she tells him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and god if she wasn’t so desperate the words could have dried her up quicker than the Sahara. Even when she wants control, that is not a nickname she cares for. Johnny laughs when she wrinkles her nose. 

“Told you so, ma’am.” 

“Don’t call me that,” she says to both to her hookups earnest slip up and Johnny’s condescension. 

“Sorry,” her hookup offers as moves to straddle him, her back to his view. 

“It’s okay, we’re strangers, don’t know everything about each other.” Her voice is a little kinder as she rolls the condom down his length, listening to the little inhales of air as he feels her touch. 

“Hmmm, wouldn’t be nicer with someone who does, someone who knows it all, someone in your head.” Johnny has moved, zipped, to stand at the foot of the bed. So, he can watch her more clearly she assumes. His cock and her panties are still in his hand. 

She ignores him, instead moving to hover over the stranger’s cock, letting the head just tease her slit open. Aidan whimpers and whines, unable to help it at the feeling of being stretched open as her weight comes down slowly onto his dick. Inch after inch sliding into her, pressing at her deepest parts. Despite some kinks misaligning, he fits nicely inside of her, helping scratch the itch. 

“A nice dick don’t mean anything if they don’t know how to use it,” Johnny taunts again, his gaze is hot on her skin, “I know everything you’ve been wanting, everything that you dream of that gets you going and makes you whimper, and I know for a fact this guy isn’t gonna give it to you.” 

‘Fuck off’ she mouths the words, despite knowing he can just hear her think them, she starts to bounce herself on the stranger’s cock, chasing her pleasure as she fucks herself on him. But she doesn’t miss how Johnny starts to stroke himself faster, nearly matching the pace she’s set for herself. 

“Might as well be ridin’ a toy. 

“Fuck… you feel so good,” the man beneath her groans just as Johnny starts to mock his prowess. 

“Good? That’s all he’s got is good?” 

“Fuck…” 

Aidan closes her eyes, trying to shut out the image of Johnny if nothing else, while both men’s voices ring out, audible even over her own whines of pleasure, she tries to focus on how good it feels to finally be full. Bouncing her ass harder as she rides the stranger’s cock, hoping somehow the smack of flesh against flesh, the creak of a bed could drown them both out. 

“Bet your tight, a wet little vice wrapped around his cock.” 

“Fuck…faster please…” 

“He’s probably already close, feeling the way you stretch around him, watching the desperate little way you fuck yourself on his dick.” 

“Hnnnn, fuck..” 

The two men’s voice go back and forth, a mess in her head, an overwhelming mess where Johnny’s words edge her further but the noises of her hookup stir up guilt, how could she get off to him being shamed? How could she get off on Johnny’s taunts and teasing, why does every word he say stoke a fire deeper inside of her, make her wetter, and push her closer to edge. While the man she’s actually fucking only seems to set her back on that journey.

Johnny isn’t real. She tries to tell herself, not physically, he only exists to her. Aidan should focus on what real and here and beneath her, but everything draws her back to the phantom in her head.  

Despite how close she is, she can’t cross the precipice, a wall built up in her core that won’t let her cum. That tension in her stomach refuses to snap, refuses to allow her the pleasure, the rush of endorphins, she’s been so desperate for. She fucks herself up and down as hard as she can, the smack of skin hitting skin echoing, and she’s sure she’ll bruise herself in her desperation. Tears of sheer frustration build in her eyes, why can she just fucking cum?

A hand cups her face, flesh and warm, vaguely slick with sweat or precum, she doesn’t know. But Aidan opens her eyes, looking straight up at Johnny. His dark brown eyes look down at her, dark hair falling into his face. 

“Take out your hearing aids for me?” For once his voice comes with a little upward inflection, insinuating a question and not a demand. 

“Huh?” 

“I want to be the only thing you hear right now.” 

And this time she listens, throwing one quick look over her should at her hookup, his eyes closed and head tossed back in the pillows, lost in the feeling of her around him; Aidan gently pulls out her hearing aids and the world goes quiet. No more sounds from him, not even the faint whirr of the fluorescent lights, or the slap of flesh. 

“Good girl,” Johnny says, his voice ringing out as clear as ever, for it comes from her own brain. The praise makes her clench and whimper, the kind of attention and names she likes best. He leans his forehead to hers, his hair tickling her face. 

He’s not real, but he feels real. She feels his skin, hears his voice, can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. And she feels metal fingers, cool as they pushing against her slick cunt, finding her swollen clit with ease. She whines, as he rubs her, stroking friction against her nerves. 

“So fucking wet, you’ve wanted my hands on your for a while, haven’t you?” He teases, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. 

“Yes,” she lets him hear it in voice and thought. 

“He may be inside you, but I’m the one who’s gonna make you cum, you got that?” 

“Yes, yes, fuck, please,” she whimpers, fucking herself and grinding against Johnny’s fingers. Every bounce and rub of his fingers pushes her closer to the edge. 

“Who’s gonna make you cum?” 

You, Johnny. She thinks but doesn’t dare say it, for fear of the man beneath her hearing, even in the throes of pleasure, she needs to be rational, Johnny isn’t real and if she starts screaming the name of a ghost while she cums… 

“Say it, out loud,.” His fingers slow their movement, nearly stopping their motion altogether, his threat clear and she fucking needs this. 

“Johnny!” Another hard rub before she’s finished the first syllable and his name becomes a scream, the tension snaps, the bubble of pleasure pops, and she’s overwhelmed by her pure euphoria. Toes curled and squirming she finally finds her release, cumming around the man inside of her, mind going blank for a moment.

Then the fog in her brain starts to lift, aftershocks coming and going, she can feel the condom bloated with cum inside of her…. Johnny is laughing, chuckling a rich and warm sound, and oh god she said his name. 

Aidan puts her hearing aids back in, clenched in her sweaty fist this entire time, trying to do so quick enough that it isn’t noticed and she can catch anything he may say. 

“…ohnny?” 

She catches the very end of it and oh no, oh no. Johnny’s still laughing. 

“Hmm, didn’t quite catch that, something wrong?” She tries to act nonchalant, like she just missed it, as she pulls herself off his cock. The emptiness makes her whine, but she may need to detach herself from this situation as soon as possible. 

“Who’s Johnny?” He asks again as she turns to face him on the bed, the stranger’s eyebrow raised. He doesn’t seem mad, just genuinely confused. 

“Yeah, who’s Johnny?” The old rockerboy says, smirking and how he can look so cocky with his dick still hard and out, she has no idea. Why is she even thinking about his dick, she catches herself, that’s oh lord. 

“Uhhh, why do you ask, who said anything about a Johnny?” 

“You did, loudly, while you came.” 

“Uhhhh….” 

“He got you there.” 

“Look,” the guy says, smiling kindly, “like, if you’re hung up on some other dude, it’s cool, like you said, we’re strangers. But, uh, if you’re thinking that much about this Johnny guy, you should probably just like talk to him about it.” 

“I’m not hung up on, Johnny, I assure you.” 

“Hmmm, debateable,” Johnny taunts and she’s gonna rip this fucking chip out of her brain if it kills her. 

“Say what you want, but I clearly wasn’t the guy on your mind tonight.” 

“Hard to compete with the guy who’s in her mind.” 

“Uh, yeah, I guess, sorry…” 

“No worries,” he says and she’s continuously thankful he can’t hear Johnny’s snide ass remarks, “I’m gonna grab a shower then head out, rooms already paid for if you wanna chill here.” 

And her one night stand gives her a friendly tap on the shoulder, like they’re bros and his dick wasn’t just inside of her, then heads to the motel bathroom. Aidan collapses on the bed, face flushed and struggling to accept the mess of a night. 

Then a weight settles over her, Johnny suddenly straddling her sternum, knees on either side and pressing into the bed before he sits his weight fully on her. His cock is still hard and leaking, has been the entire time, now smearing precum hot into her skin. 

‘The fuck are you doing?’ she mouths, glaring up at him. 

“What no love for the guy you’re so hung up on?” 

The shower starts up in the background, which should block out the sound of her talking to the ghost currently stroking his dick over her tits. The head flushed red and his pace quickening, he’s been shifting pace back and forth this entire time, no doubt he’s close to bursting. 

“I fuckin’ hate you, you know that?” 

“I know for a fact you don’t,” he groans beneath his breath, as his cock twitches in his hand, “besides, told you where I wanted to cum.” 

“Y-Ahh!” 

He curses beneath his breath and she yelps as it hits her, cum splattering across her chest and face. It certainly feels real, hot and thick across her breasts and chin, salty when her tongue swipes away a drop that hit her lip. But no one else but her and him would ever be able to even see it…  

Images of being able to walk around Night City filled and covered in his cum, with no one else even knowing flicker across her mind. 

“You’re not even pretending to hate me anymore, are you?”  He’s grinning wickedly, face flushed beneath the dark scruff of his beard, long hair sticking to his forehead. And she can’t find in her to disagree. 

[trashfor-imagines]

How I Met Your Mother Father: Haikyū Edition! | 2

Ft. Oikawa / Iwaizumi / Ushijima / Tendo / Semi

Summary: How you met your husband-o! Warnings: I took creative liberties regarding Ushijima’s story and how the Olympics work. Also I’m sleepy and going back in and editing my mistakes. :)

Part 1: Ft. Kuroo / Bokuto / Akaashi / Yaku Part 3: Ft. Daichi / Sugawara / Asahi / K. Ukai

-

Oikawa Toru

You and Oikawa met in university. You were studying for a degree in Kinesiology & Sport Science and your goal was to get into Sports Medicine and work for one of the National or Olympic teams.

It was by chance you joined the men’s volleyball team as their manager. You originally gunned for track and field, but a mishap with your train pass at the station made you late for sign ups.

On your first day of practice you arrived early to get a head start on things - ordering uniforms, getting sports drinks ready, gathering clean towels. You were coming back from the laundry room when a ball was headed straight for you. Fear reached your knees decided to lock them in place so your first instinct was to block, holding your palms out, but the sheer force and velocity caused your hands and the ball to be thrown back, still smacking you in the face and quite literally knocking you off your feet.

Lying there, you wanted the gym floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Are you ok?! I’m so sorry!” Eyes fluttering open, you looked up into brown eyes, wide with worry.

“Well boys, this is your first year team manager. Oikawa! I thought I told you first years to stop showing off! Take responsibility and help her to the nurse’s office. When you come back you’ll be doing flying laps until I say stop,” the coach yelled, blowing a whistle and signaling the start of practice.

He picked you up easily in his arms, some of the boys who were out of earshot of the coach whistling at him. Now that you weren’t lying on the ground and he wasn’t so close in your face, you could really take in his features and god was he handsome. You really did wish the ground had swallowed you whole.

The nurse flashed a light in your eyes. “Well, you’re definitely going to have a bruise.”

“You don’t have to stay with me,” you told told Oikawa as the nurse looked you over for signs of concussion.

“I feel bad; I just want to make sure you’re ok,” he reasoned, giving you his most charming smile.

“If you feel bad, then you can make it up to me later instead of using me to stall facing your punishment.”

“It’s a deal. No take backs, my cute manager,” he sang, quickly escaping before you could rebut.

And that’s how you ended up going on a date with Oikawa Toru and marrying a year after he went pro.

Iwaizumi Hajime

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you watched Iwaizumi from across the library. While most girls at school fawned over Oikawa, you were absolutely smitten with his best friend.

Letting your shoulders drop, you turned back to your textbook, tapping your pencil eraser to the tip of your nose as you bit down on your lower lip, clueless that the boy who’d invaded your thoughts had noticed you.

Months later and graduation was today and it was official. You’d spent the whole year pining for a boy you’d never ever spoken to. In a month you’d be starting college and hopefully someone new would catch your eye.

The summer wasn’t exciting. You spent your time packing for Tokyo and wandering around town, hoping to catch even a glimpse of Iwaizumi in passing; no luck.

You were starting classes at UTokyo in a few weeks for two degrees in Creative Writing and Publishing. You wanted to write stories and if you couldn’t do that then you wanted to help people get their stories out there.

First day of classes were incredible. Everything was interesting and you were reignited with a new sense of excitement. You’d almost forgotten about why you were so mopey before.

It was Wednesday and you were on your way off campus to find lunch when you felt your heart skip. There he was just across the courtyard; Iwaizumi.

Was he seriously here too? Gripping your hands tightly around your book bag, you considered your options.

New school.

New city.

New you.

Right?

Breathing steady, you quickly crossed the courtyard. The closer you got the stiffer your body felt and the more your hands shook until you couldn’t walk anymore. Your feet were glued in place and you watched as Iwaizumi walked right past you.

Dammit.

As weeks passed it was like high school all over again. Now that you’d seen him once, he seemed to be popping up everywhere and it was driving you mad. You even saw him at a coffee shop off campus the other day.

You sat in the library, studying for your first exam. Nervously, you bounced your restless leg as you tapped your pencil’s eraser against your forehead, frustrated.

Things were supposed to be different.

You barely registered when someone sat next to you.

“If you aren’t careful, you’ll leave a mark on your face.”

Your face flushed and you dropped your pencil; that’s Iwaizumi’s voice. Almost mechanically, you turned your head and met his gaze.

He sat with his body turned toward you, arm propped up at the elbow with his cheek resting on his fist.

“I wasn’t sure it was you, but now I’m positive,” he said, smiling at you. Smiling at you. You’d only ever dreamed.

“You know... who I am?”

“Well yeah, we went high school for three years together.” His voice was teasing and everything you ever wished for. “I was always busy with school and volleyball, I never gave myself a chance to talk to you.”

“You wanted to talk to me?”

“I might have seen you looking at me a few times.” There it goes. Called out. You were a stuttering mess. There was no way you could play it off now. 

Letting you flounder a bit more, he rested his hand on your bouncing knee, sending a jolt of electricity through you, and that expression on his face told you he might have felt it too.

“(Y/N) why don’t we go out and we can catch up for lost time?”

And that was how you and Iwaizumi Hajime became inseparable ever since, marrying a few years after starting your careers after college.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The Olympics were almost every athlete’s dream.

You were raised to play, eat, breathe, and dream gold.

Gold medals that is.

All your life you’d been on national teams and qualified for the Youth Olympics in Track and Field at 14.

Now, four years later, you were off to the actual Olympics. You were boarding the plane to London for athletes who were heading over early. It was a long flight with a layover in Turkey.

Dressed in leggings, your Team Japan Olympic sweatshirt, and slipping on a pair of comfy house shoes you wore specifically on planes, you snuggled into your window seat, gazing through the small frame of glass.

You snapped out of it when you felt someone sit in the seat beside you. Turning, you felt your jaw slack slightly at the large and fit build seated right next to you.

Okay, full disclosure, you were boy crazy deep inside. Your parents didn’t allow dating and drilled into you that boys were just a distraction from your dreams.

“Go for gold. Boys come later.”

But holy shit. He was looking right at you too. Oh my god, was he talking to you? What was he saying?!

Oh right.

Smiling, you reached up and removed your earbuds. “Sorry, what was that?”

“My seatbelt.”

You felt your mouth run dry. His voice. Was life serious right now?!

“Sorry,” you laughed lightly, reaching under your thigh for the belt strap, handing it to him. You might have handed it to him in a way so that your hands touched on purpose. Maybe you didn’t. All you knew was that you wanted to keep talking to him and you definitely wanted to touch him.

“Thanks,” he spoke simply, buckling in before facing forward.

 Okay, you mouthed silently, straightening up in your seat. Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, you turned to him again. “I’m (Y/F/N), Olympic Track and Field.”

He turned to look at you. “Ushijima Wakatoshi. Volleyball.”

A man of few words? “You know, I think I recognize you now.”

“We were featured in the same article in Number last month.” His voice was blunt.

Your eyes widened. “Wow! You remembered what article we were both in?”

He didn’t respond, but by god, he just said more than just three words to you and it was a full sentence. You gave a few more tries at making conversation, but he had no response. With a sigh, you shrunk into your seat and put your earbuds in.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but you were awakened by a jerking and shaking motion. An arm was wrapped tightly around you as the cabin continued to shake and rattle.

A ding sounded and the captain made an announcement: “Sorry passengers, but we’re currently experiencing some turbulence. We’ll be adjusting our flight pattern. Please stay seated with seatbelts fastened.”

The hand on your arm tightened, but you were tucked tightly into his side to where you couldn’t adjust your head to look at Ushijima’s face. Reaching over, you placed one of your hands on top of his and he adjusted to hold your hand tightly, as your other arm stretched across his torso, holding onto him.

Even when the plane moved into less turbulent air space, he continued to hold onto you and eventually you slept again.

He woke you up when you landed in Turkey and asked if you’d spend the layover with him in the airport while some of the other athletes left to explore. Though most of the conversation was one sided with you talking and him listening, there was a connection and when you finally made him laugh, you knew you wanted to always be the reason for his smiles.

When you finally reached London, you spent as much time as possible with one another before the events began; morning runs in the city, sightseeing, eating meals together, taking tons of photos together.

You’d won gold in the 500 meter. The volleyball team won bronze.

When the both of you finally returned home to Japan, the two of you stayed in contact as more than just friends, but he’d never label your relationship out loud.

That’s how you and Ushijima Wakatoshi, medal winning Olympians, ended up together, keeping your relationship on the down low and out of the press for two years and marrying just before the next Olympic Games.

Tendo Satori

As far as you were concerned, Tendo was an insensitive goof.

You had known him since you were babies, your mothers were best friends, and by god he was the most annoying force to ever appear in your life. Your childhood was filled with plenty of hair pulling and teasing.

It was embarrassing when girls started growing breasts and you were still flat as a board. His teasing was unrelenting. And when you finally grew some semblance of breasts? You didn’t even want to get started on that nightmarish period of life.

When high school came around, he was like a second shadow to you, never far. It was irritating, but you tolerated it.

He wasn’t an idiot, managing to also get into Shiratorizawa. He also knew when you were reaching your limit with him and he’d instantly change his behavior, turning into the sweet and gentle boy you first knew.

Hell, you even welcomed his attention at this point. There weren’t any other boys looking your way. As soon as you’d start talking to a guy, the next day they’d avoid you like the plague.

He was your best friend.

You hated him.

You loved him.

Second year didn’t seem to be any different from first year. Valentines Day came around and a boy you’d been crushing on rejected your chocolates. It was absolutely embarrassing.

You studied in the library, keeping yourself mentally preoccupied, while waiting patiently for Tendo to walk you home after school, you only hoped his practice didn’t run late like normal.

You heard girls whispering about your rejection earlier. It was so hard to not just break into tears. You’d been holding them in all day.

After a couple hours, you slammed your book shut, temporarily stopping the whispers while you packed and left, waiting for Tendo outside of the school gates.

“Hey washboard!” came his cheery voice.

Biting your lip, you kept your head down as you walked with him down the street. You hadn’t made it ten steps before stopping, trying to hold in your sobs. Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your thoughtfully wrapped rejected box of sweets and held it out to him.

“Weren’t you going to give these to that Suzukita guy on the swim team? Chicken out?” He turned the box over in his hands.

Balling your hands into fists, you snatched the box back from him. “Look Sato, if you don’t want them then just say so!”

He took a better look at your face, noticing streaks of tears down your face. With a small growl, he snatched them back before tearing into the box, eating a couple of pieces. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them!”

Shoulders trembling, you let yourself cry freely.

Tendo frowned, brows furrowed in worry. Stuffing the chocolates into his bag, he held your hand, pulling you along with him and walking you home silently. No jokes. No teasing. Just the sweet boy who always made you hold his hand when you were toddlers.

Your troubles weren’t over just yet though. White Day came along and you weren’t ready for the horror show of feeling alone again.

The day was uneventful. You hardly spoke to anyone. Even your girl friends avoided you so they didn’t accidentally make you feel bad.

White Day was lonely and it sucked.

Thankfully, the day didn’t drag out and Tendo didn’t have practice, just a quick team meeting, so you waited at the front gates like normal.

“(Y/N)! Ready to go home?” he asked, ruffling your hair.

You shrugged, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Hey.” He caught your wrist, gaining your full attention. Holding out his hand, he offered you a small white box with a white ribbon. “Here.”

Carefully, you accepted, removing the ribbon and handing it to him. You opened the box and a small smile made its way onto your face. Marshmallow chocolates. You got them once when you were little from your dad. You shared them with Tendo and hadn’t had them again since.

“Thanks, Satori,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

He reached forward and grabbed a lock of your hair, clumsily braiding it before tying the end with the white ribbon from the box.

Reaching down, he took your hand, walking you home. As the two of you walked, the hand holding yours began to fidget. Glancing over you watched as he slipped a white beaded bracelet from his wrist onto yours.

Stopping, you let go of his hand to look at it. Peeking up at him, you caught the faint blush on his cheeks before looking at the hand made kid’s bracelet carefully.

SATORI <3 (Y/N)

“Sato...”

“It’s true. I... I love you, (Y/N).”

And that’s how you and Tendo Satori ended up attached to each other for life, getting engaged after high school and marrying after college.

Semi Eita

“What can I get you?”

Those were the first words you ever spoke to him. He was dressed casually and brooding at the bar you worked.

At night, you worked at one of the many tiny bars in Shinjuku’s Golden Gai, a huge tourist trap, and during the day you were a student at Bunka Fashion College.

He wasn’t much of a talker and wore an unmovable scowl, but he bought drinks all night and didn’t bother you unlike the other customers.

You were surprised when he showed up again the next night, and the night after that, and again after that.

When he stepped into your tiny bar for the sixth day in a row, on a Monday night, it was almost automatic the way you moved, pouring him a whiskey before setting the glass and bottle down in front of him.

It was pretty quiet tonight. And late. There wasn’t a ton of activity. In fact, your only other customer left within the next thirty minutes, leaving you and Mr. Serious alone.

“Let me know if you want something different for a change,” you said, laying out some books on the counter before hopping over the bar and taking a seat at one of the eight stools - the only seating in the whole place.

“What are you reading?” His voice surprised you. Honestly, you almost forgot he was there.

“Ah, it’s for one of my classes. History of sewing, basically. Kind of boring, but they say I have to learn it,” you shrugged, laughing a little.

“Where do you go?”

You smiled at him in a teasing matter, holding a finger up to your lips. “Can you keep a secret?”

He quirked a brow. “Promise.”

“Hmm... I guess I can trust you,” you teased, “I go to Bunka. Students aren’t supposed to have jobs so my life’s in your hands, okay?”

He scoffed, masking a laugh that almost escaped him. “Sure.”

From that night forward this was a common theme. He’d stay late and when it was just the two of you left, you’d have deep conversations and talk about anything and everything either of you could think of.

You learned quite a bit about him.

He was a musician in a band and a civil servant.

He was stressed about some projects he was working on, which was why he started coming to the bar.

He liked “your calm energy” and how you didn’t bother him; that’s why he kept coming back.

He played volleyball in school and was a setter.

His favorite food was tekka maki.

He was a Scorpio.

His friend used to tease him a lot in high school about how he looked in clothes so now he tried to be more conscious of how he dressed.

Soon your relationship evolved from just bartender-patron. He was inviting you to his concerts and asking to see you during your time between school and work.

You recalled him mentioning wanting to find a new casual jacket that didn’t make him look weird, so you spent a few days in your design class making him a jean jacket you thought would flatter him.

He met you outside of the school building one evening - the two of you had plans to go to a night market for dinner and try the different stalls. It was supposed to be chilly so it was the perfect time for you to give it to him.

“Semi! Here, this is for you,” you said, holding out a simple gift bag to him. You literally finished today, applying some patches and last minute details. “Go ahead and open it.”

“(Y/N)... This is exactly what I was looking for.” His normally grumpy expression was softer as he held it up, examining it. He noted there wasn’t a tag and he was pretty sure there was the tiniest bit of blood on the collar. “Did you really make this for me?”

You stuttered, “I-I know y-you were having a hard time finding something you liked so I thought you deserved something you wanted.”

“I... deserve what I want?” he repeated, looking you in the eye.

A blush flared across your cheeks. “Well... Yeah.”

He paused, taking in your face and how different you looked when you were flustered. “I want to date you, exclusively.”

And that’s how you became the musician Semi Eita’s girlfriend, marrying a year later.

[alltingfinns]

Part 2

John crestfallen at what looks like another sign of Sherlock not caring. Except Sherlock obviously sees it differently, time is of the essence and this is probably not the first kidnapping case he’s seen.

He looked through the fairy tale book probably because it was noticably out of place.

“Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment”. So close to Jim’s method.

Oh God. Sherlock telling the John mirror that they’re better off avoiding relationships since at least one attempt involved a master criminal. At this point John is avoiding relationships but will soon enough meet “Mary”. Also worried about his interest in Sherlock who has the air of menace drawn thickly around him.

Did that sentence even make sense?

The modern equivalence to ACD Sherlock knowing the origin of soil samples.

“Thank you John” “Actually I’m just his mirror”

Keeping a sharp eye on John so the mistake seems more psychological than visual.

He looks upset when she says she doesn’t count. Just because he doesn’t like her romantically it doesn’t mean he doesn’t value her as a friend. He’s just really bad at valuing his friends. But also she might be so long gone on him that his lack of reciprocation is seen as an all out rejection.

Oh God the quick shots of the kids eating the poisoned chocolate. That’s my fill of horror for the holiday.

“Not be myself.”

Collar goes down.

I wonder how Jim faked a Sherlock to traumatize the girl.

We know Anderson’s theory on that from TEH, latex perfection.

Sherlock being subjected to the “they’ll think you’re crazy or lying if you say anything” quick show of “I O U”. Also known as the dancing frog effect.

Sally fishing for a reaction because she needs a bit more than a hunch and a screaming child to go on. But keeping it subtle enough that you have to be Sherlock Holmes to fully pick up on it and deduce what she might be thinking.

John being snubbed but it’s like other times. Sherlock is going into danger and needs to keep John out of the firing line. Not the first or last time he pulls this stunt.

Next on fairy tales with Richard Brook: The Story of Sherlock and His Very Bad and Downright Awful Evening.

Wonder if being found with a dead body is going to compound his situation? I mean, obviously he didn’t have a gun and the guy was shot from a distance, but at this point it’s the rumors that matter not the facts.

Been a while since I saw TPLoSH, but wasn’t that the one where dust was part of his filing system?

“Can’t kill an idea”

The breaking point. The wrong conclusion I wrote in the last post. Here it is.

He thinks what would upset John is being duped by Sherlock into liking/praising/admiring him.

I want to write a bigger thing about it, although I can’t imagine that the subject has gone unexplored in the fandom.

Sherlock is the one doubting in this scene. Doubting that John sees him for more than the Persona.

Remove the Persona, and John’s affection goes with it.

But John isn’t just there for the clever man in The Hat. Coat collar up or down, he cares for Sherlock.

The doubt will unfortunately not die here, or The Hat wouldn’t have such a pronounced presence in future episodes.

Are English gingerbread men always that thick? Then again it’s possible we just generally bake them thinner in Sweden, judging from a couple of German cookie cutters I have that doesn’t quite work on the level of thin we usually bake.

John standing up for him throughout this scene while Sherlock just quietly accepts it.

Am I even going to make it to the rooftop?

Both John and Sherlock get such good smash cut scenes in this episode.

“A good friend bails you out of jail, a best friend sits next to you and say ‘We fucked up.’”

The way Lestrade underreacts to the situation is amazing.

Once again on Gun Safety with Sherlock Holmes.

Lestrade’s face in his hands. Sherlock’s very tired dad/babysitter.

“Now people will definitely talk”

Priorities, John!

They’re going to need to coordinate. Good thing that they at least can do that in life or death situations, because they’re terrible with it otherwise.

“A lie that is preferable to the truth.” Also known as every straight Sherlock reading, because people can’t deal with their hero being gay.

Interesting that the guy got shot just as Sherlock lowered his gun. As in after he got the information. He wasn’t shot by one of the others. This is the work of Moriarty’s shooter.

I thought from the look on Sherlock’s face when John mentioned Brook that he had an idea who it was. But apparently not.

So the money was good enough that he’d risk jail time but still not enough that he wouldn’t risk the wrath of his ex-employer, the master criminal, for what she could get him? Sherlock was right on the money in his analysis of her. Not smart or trustworthy, just hungry.

Oh her look of pity to John. Like he’s the one that was duped.

A folder with printouts. That’s her big cache of evidence?

For Christ’s sake, her character in The IT Club is smarter than this!

And to top off her character she does a pathetic repeat of Sherlock’s insult to her and then John brushes her aside.

Wrap up a lie in the truth. There are way too many good lines in this episode.

“If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, that I think I am, would you still help me?”

So close to the actual question he has for John but will never ask.

Mycroft doesn’t actually believe in the key code nonsense, does he? Both Holmes brothers can’t be this blind on matters of cyber security.

This scene was at the end of THoB, which doesn’t have to mean anything timewise, granted. But I sincerely doubt a hypothetical key code was of concern.

Are there any updated versions of M theory around? I think I saw some new idea about Mycroft being in charge rather than Moriarty, but I still get the impression that these scenes happened even if no key code was involved. So why did he really have Moriarty slapped around?

“Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, and you have given him the perfect ammunition.”

Wasn’t there a theory that Mycroft manipulated John into Sherlock’s path because he thought the doctor could save his brother?

Jim used the code to change his identity in the records. You seriously think Kitty checked the records, rather than taking him at his word and printouts?

Even then, Jim has worked with someone who knows what the record keepers like. No need for a magical key code.

Ah yes, about ten characters of binary. The ultimate key code!

“No. Friends protect people.”

People is John.

I personally love coming up with names with hidden meanings, so that’s probably what I would have picked too.

On the one hand he brought back the scary SUDDEN SHOUT he terrified me with in TGG, but on the other hand he used it to say “doofus”.

“Ordinary Sherlock”. This scene must have been fun to act.

Mrs Hudson assuming that John’s back because Sherlock did something clever and made it alright.

“Police! ...sorta”

Sherlock has already set Lazarus in motion, but the possibility of not having to leave John if he can get to Jim has to be explored.

Faked suicide like the bride. I don’t blame Sherlock for not seeing it. He’s running on no sleep, more adrenaline than blood in his veins and someone just seemingly shot himself in front of him. Not to mention the overall pressure he’s under.

The little laugh when he can’t make John doubt him.

Everything’s blurry.

“I researched you”. Subtle slam at Elementary?

Oh God their hands reaching.

“He’s my friend” with his voice breaking

“Say it now.” “I can’t.”

Mrs Hudson outangering John is the levity needed now.

“Stop this.”

Things are blurry again.

Risked being seen just to see John one last time and hear his words.

And I need to wash my face.

I also remembered that Sherlock talked of a lookalike in TEH, but I’m keeping my musing on Sherlock faking for transparency. Also I’m too lazy to go back and edit.

[elsapheonix]

Wolffe with a halo

“Hey Wolffe, look there's a letter here” Gregor called

“Alright” I called

“It’s for you can I read it?” Gregor asked

“For me? Uhh no I’ll be there in just a second” I said and I left the Bedroom and went the table where Gregor was. He handed me the Letter. My breath caught when I saw the handwriting on the envelope

Return Address:

Wild space Coordinates

G-9 76937-O-930

Commander Wolffe Koon

Seelos

AT-AT Imperial Walker

“Oh my….” I said trailing off and then I tore into the letter before my fear caused me to throw it away.

My Beloved Wolffe Koon,

Kah-ta-yar Wolffe, how are you after all these years? These year go by slow without you here by my side, it’s been so long. I still love you more than anything else. Especially more than my own life. I even discarded rules for you. The Jedi Code was probably the biggest one, but I didn't care and i still don't. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about you, not a day goes by without me missing you, my Angel. It’s so hard being away from you day in and day out. It’s hard to do anything without you. You were, still are, and will always be my everything, my life, my world, my angel and my reason for living, for fighting, for existing. I believe it’s the will of the force that we meet and that I fell in love with you. Too me you are an Angel from the force. I could go on but then I’d need an entire notebook and it’s not easy to put a notebook in a envelope. You would know.

Do you ever think of the good times, Angel? About the Clone wars? I know I do. Almost everyday. The wolfpack was my family, My clan, My Aliit. Although they are not really my Brothers It sometimes felt as they were. Aliit ori'shya tal'din, Family is more than blood. I loved each and everyone of them, no man was just a clone. Losing then was the worst part of Order 66.

I miss everything of the clone wars, i guess when you grow up in a war zone you come too miss it when life changes. I miss taking down clankers, pranking shinnies with boost, leading assaults, hanging out with boost and sinker, destroying astromechs, fighting the sith, disobeying direct orders, Pissing off Rex, being able to use my lightsabers, spending countless hours with you doing ship duties, us breaking rules just so Master Plo would put us on deck duty while they all went down to battle, our countless arguments, even the ones over stupid things, scaring you with my piloting, you spending the night with me when I had the bad dreams, goofing off while doing paper work with you and the time we spent in the med after one of us had gotten hurt. I miss you're singing, and the silly little pet names you had for me. Most of all I miss Master Plo and you. I miss you more than him, Angel.

I had thought I had lost you forever after the purge, I wish I had not left you Angel, it has bothered me for longer than i can remember. I was a fool when I thought we were better a part, when in reality we are always better together. I had an harder time hiding from the empire on my own, I actually have been captured and escaped many times each time changing my name. I now go by Elisa Koon and have not been captured since Ahsoka and I started the rebels. I’ve made many reckless and stupid decisions. Some of them i’m sure would had been prevented had you been with me or had I stayed with you. I was a coward for leaving you and running like i did. I was afraid. I didn't even thank you for saving my life, Didn't even say goodbye. I abandoned you and I’m so so sorry.

I would like to see you again even if you don't look the same as you did before. It’s been so long and Rex says I need to stop pushing people away, I haven’t let anyone get close to me. He’s right I need to stop pushing people away and locking them out, Especially my Angelic Riduur. Speaking of Rex he couldn't figure out who I was and I eventually had to tell him who I was then he told me that you and gregor were camping out in an Imperial Walker on Seelos hunting Juppa's. That doesn't seem like a good way to spend the rest of your days.

Personally I think you’d be better off here with me Angel. I know you don't want too join our fight against the empire and you don't have to if you don't want too. I would never make you do anything. If you were to come I will protect you, I won't let anyone hurt you, never again. You remember that promise I made too you after Kholum right? Well, I’ll still stand too it. No one is ever going to hurt you again on my watch, not if I can help it, Angel.

I don't use my Lightsabers much anymore unless I have too, but I do keep them on me at all times, hidden of course. I mentioned I had to use a different name right? Elisa Koon, I have it as the shortened version of my real name Elizabeth Koon, Force how I hate that name. I’ve lost count of how many I have had. All have been shortened versions of my real one. I’ve used a different last name every time. I’ve been El Vizsla, Eliz Diana, Lily Uma, Lisa Tiana, Lisbeth Bonjo, Ela Vila, Izzy Tuttle, Libby Gulo, Beth Di Angelo, Bess Lupus, Bette Kyzie, Bessie Humble, and once I even used my full name Elizabeth Phoenix. Now I am Elisa Koon.

I decided it was time that I went back to my married name. I have even started to wear the diamond band you gave me again. If you do come I would like to redo our vows or even do a public wedding since the one we had was private. I’m sure you’d like that to.

We have found many of our Vods, Angel. Several of them, like yourself, don't want too fight so we provide them shelter and protection, I’m over that part of the rebellion. Some of them fight only as a last resort if we are really in a pickle, actually that's how all of them are. They like to help with planning and spare small jobs we have that need to be done, Comet, Sinker and Boost are some of the ones that are around.

The rebellion is lead by Ahsoka Tano, Separatist leader Commander Sato, Hera Syndulla and myself. We have been helping many systems who are in need because of the empire. Oh yeah, Senator bail Organa and princess Leia Organa secretly lead us in our fight while pretending to support the empire. I’ve edited my Armor, added extensions to it and made it bigger so it would fit me, I also changed it’s color from purple to grey. It’s markings match the ones on you're clone armor.

If you and Gregor do come I’ll find a cure for your fast aging. We’ve found cures for the ones that are here, aside from Rex, but it’s different for every clone, we have a serem but it has to be altered for every clone, we are currently altering it for Rex and I’m sure we could alter the serum for gregor. Not so sure about yourself since at one point you were a Werewolf. We may have to unblock the werewolf part of your blood, which would make you a wolf again.

I know you might not be too keen too that Idea but I highly doubt the serum could be altered for you seeing as you have wolfblood in you still. It wasn't actually removed like you thought I just used the force to contain it and make it inactive. We will try to do the serum but if we can't i’m going to free the wolf-blood. I don’t want you to die on me anytime soon. I don’t think I could live without you my beautiful Angel. It’s not fair that we are the same age yet you're near the end of your life.

It’s boring here, some of these guys have less personality than some of than some of the shinnes fresh off of Kamino did. And that’s saying something.

After battles were always fun with you and the wolfpack. Especially if Rex and the 501st were involved. Those boys were always having a party. I remember Rex’s favorite phrase at those times “It’s always a party in the 501st”

Master Skywalker is not Darth Vader like we thought he was. So the mystery of who Darth Vader is, is still open. Master Skywalker is currently being held at an imperial complex. Highest security one. I think the emperor is keeping him alive too use his force signature too give to whomever darth vader is too make it seem as if master Skywalker is Darth Vader.

I know for a fact he’s not I came across files, imperial files of where he is being kept and his cell number. That's not information I can put in this letter. I have a few guesses at who Vader is.

I think he is Master Jrul, Master Pong Krell, or Master Quinlan Vos. Though he could be another fallen Jedi I think these three are the most likely. This would be a conversation best for comms or better yet being face to face.

I really wish you were here with me Angel, I need someone who understands me. I need you more than I ever thought my Angel.

If you decide to come you can write and I’ll come pick you up or you can just call Rex, I’m not in the command center often so the chances of them getting a comm message to me is slim.

Hope too see you again Angel,

Love,

Elsa Phoenix-Koon

“I...She….” I stumbled over the words I wanted to say. Gregor took the letter from my hands, I was in complete shock and could feel my eyes starting to water. “She still loves me” I finally choke out

“Of course she does Wolffe, she’s your wife, she’ll love you no matter what” Gregor says

“She’d be safer finding someone else” I say

“You don’t really belive that do you?” Gregor says

“I miss her, but I don’t want to risk hurting her” I say

“I doubt you could ever hurt her, she’s a strong kid” Gregor says, “We should go, sounds too me that she really wants you there”

“But…”

“No buts” Gregor says “I’m comning Rex”

“Wonderful” I say when Gregor leaves the room.

[inyournightmares97]

Ultimatum (Part 1)

Park Jinyoung is a master negotiator. He’s used to preying on people’s weaknesses and manipulating them to get his way. So he can’t understand you; a lawyer who sees the world in black and white, as either good or bad. Conflict is inevitable. 

But if the two of you can just set aside your differences, perhaps you can perform miracles together 

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: Angst, office!au, enemies to lovers!au. Some language. 

Part 1: In Which You Win

Part 2: In Which He Wins 

Part 3: In Which the Common Enemy Appears 

Part 4: In Which You Work Together

Part 5: In Which Nobody Wins  (coming soon)

Part 6: In Which Everybody Wins (coming soon)

Midas, they called him in Sales. Because everything he touched turned to gold, and there wasn’t a single lead that Park Jinyoung couldn’t eventually convert into a paying client. He was relentless. His clever tongue worked with his cunning mind to spin even the most unfavorable situation into an attractive opportunity. 

Jinyoung was a master negotiator. 

He could convince anyone to do what he wanted them to. 

Except you. 

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

“He’s coming, he’s coming,” Yugyeom hissed urgently. “Wow, he looks maad.”

You didn’t look up from your laptop. There was no need. You could hear the ominous sound of Park Jinyoung’s expensive leather shoes walking towards the Legal Department’s corner of the office. The company had recently adopted an open floor concept, meaning there were no more cubicles or individual offices to hide behind. Just flat tables, couches and colorful beanbags. 

The CEO thought the lack of walls and barriers encouraged collaboration and creativity. Really, it just made it easier for people to come and complain to you while you were busy. 

A shadow fell over your table. 

“Why did you reject the term sheet I submitted?” 

You took a deep breath and looked up. Park Jinyoung was undeniably handsome. He had big, innocent brown eyes and kissable plump lips. His shoulders were broad and the buttons of his formal white shirt were slightly strained across his chest. Dark hair fell carelessly into his eyes. 

He might have been attractive, if he hadn't been glaring at you like you had murdered his first-born son. 

“I didn’t reject your term sheet,” you told him calmly before you turned back to your laptop. There was a meeting in half an hour and you didn’t have much time to prepare. Park Jinyoung always picked the worst time to throw a tantrum. “I made some edits and sent it back to you for approval. You can take your time to approve it and then we’ll draft the agreement accordingly.”

Park Jinyoung’s hand landed on your desk and he leaned forward. The scent of his cologne overwhelmed you. 

“Well, I don’t approve. You’ve changed half the terms! It’s an entirely different contract from what I originally negotiated, the client is never going to sign it!” he insisted. His lips were pressed together and you could see his eyebrows furrowing. 

“We only changed what was problematic, Mr. Park.”

“You changed most of it,” he corrected. 

“Then it would appear that most of it was problematic. This is why we recommend that you have someone from Legal in the room with you when you negotiate with clients. That way, you won’t make promises that the company can’t legally afford to follow through with.”

Jinyoung scoffed. "Oh, I see. So now I'm a bad negotiator?" 

God. Did you have to go through this every time Park Jinyoung negotiated a new deal? It was exasperating. He never did what you asked but somehow expected Legal to sign off on his outrageous terms. Just because he could sweet talk the client into paying incredibly large amounts for shitty products didn't mean that his exploitative agreements would hold up in a court of law. 

"You're an excellent negotiator, Mr. Park, but we have to do our jobs. There's a reason the legal department is required to approve your term sheets before drafting the final agreement. We have to make sure the company isn't going to be facing any legal risks. In your case, the risks are enormous."

"You have no idea what you're doing."

You bristled. "Don't I?"

Jinyoung's grip tightened on your desk. "This is the biggest client and the largest deal of the year. Do you know how many other companies were bidding for this client? At least fifteen. It's a ten million dollar deal. I got them to accept our terms. Me."

"I know. The numbers were on the term sheet."

Jinyoung spoke through clenched teeth. "Then why can't you just approve it? Come on. Your job is a mere formality, just sign the bloody term sheet and hand it to one of the interns to draft the agreement!"

"I'll do that once you consent to the changes we made."

"The client won't consent to those changes."

"That's unfortunate," you replied calmly as you stood up and closed your laptop. Jinyoung glowered as he watched you slide it into your bag. "If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. If you want to discuss this further, you can email me and we'll set up a meeting."

"I will be emailing you," Jinyoung promised firmly. He straightened up and shot you a glare before he walked away. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him leave. Not just because you were relieved to be finally rid of him (for now), but also because he had a rather attractive backside. 

It was almost worth the whole headache to be able to watch Park Jinyoung walk away. 

"Are you done staring at his butt?" Yugyeom asked you cheekily. "You have a meeting to get to, remember?"

You rolled your eyes. 

"Do you have all my files?

"Yup."

"Great. I'm off. And uh, do me a favour and block up my calander for the rest of the week with whatever stupid reasons you can think of. I don't want to be available to meet with Park Jinyoung until next Monday. Let him learn how much of a mere formality we are."

Yugyeom grinned. "Understandable."

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

"She's ruining the entire deal!" Jinyoung fumed. 

Jackson Wang grunted. He'd had too much to drink the previous night. The entire Sales team had gone out to a bar to celebrate meeting their quarterly targets. Jackson now possessed a painful hangover.

"Uh… what?" he asked groggily. 

"That witch from Legal!" 

"Did she reject your term sheet?" Jackson asked knowingly. 

"Worse! She sent it back to me with all the terms altered! Half the conditions are removed and it's an entirely different contract now! If everything has to be according to what Legal wants then why the fuck do I even bother negotiating with the client? How about Legal just hands me the standard contract and I can pass it on to the client and go- here, this is all my Legal team will allow, take it or leave it?"

Jackson hummed. "That would make our jobs easier."

"I spent months negotiating this deal," Jinyoung complained as he paced up and down the corridor. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in frustration. "It took fourteen meetings with the client reps to convince them to give it to us. And what does that witch do? Types on her laptop with her dainty little nails for five whole minutes and destroys my skillfully negotiated term sheet!"

"Hey, how about some coffee-"

"I don't need coffee! I need my term sheet approved by Legal!" 

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "O-kay. But you know, what I usually do is that I take Yugyeom or someone else from Legal with me while I'm negotiating the term sheet with the client so I don't have to-"

“You know what her problem is? She’s deluded herself into thinking that the Legal team is somehow important. It’s not. It doesn’t matter what fancy school she came from or what fancy law firms she worked at before this. Sales is what keeps this company running and she should just be grateful for her nice, comfy 9 to 5 job where she has to do nothing except sign off on agreements that other people spent time and effort negotiating!” Jinyoung ranted. 

Jackson yawned. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee? Because I was about to send the intern to go get us some coffee. Hey! Hana! Come over here!”

Hana, who had been sitting a few trendy armchairs away and pretending to look busy, jerked her head up and hurried over. She was a cute young college student- perhaps too shy and hesitant to last long interning with a Sales team full of loud and confident men, but her resilience was admirable. 

“Yes, Jackson?” she asked hopefully. 

“You look exhausted. Why don’t you take a break and get yourself some coffee? Here, take the company card,” Jackson said generously, pulling out his wallet and offering her the company card. “Get yourself a piece of cake too.”

Hana blinked at the card and then looked at Jackson again. “Uh… thanks. Do you want anything?”

Jackson’s smile widened. “Well since you asked, I wouldn’t mind an Americano. Jinyoung will have a latte, with extra cream since he’s had a rough morning.”

“Okay.”

Jinyoung watched out of the corner of his eye as Hana’s shoulders slumped. It had only been a couple of weeks since the younger girl had started her internship with their department, but she’d done little more than file documents and get Jackson coffee. She was often ignored among the hectic schedules and loud voices of the Sales team. 

“Hana!” Jinyoung called out. 

“Yes?” she asked hopefully. 

“I’m going to have a meeting with Legal about my term sheet soon. Go through the original term sheet and also the edited version Legal sent us once you’re back, I want you to attend the meeting and keep yourself updated with the situation. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two about red tapism.”

Hana’s eyes brightened. This was the first interesting thing she’d been asked to do all week. “Okay!”

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

Yugyeom shuffled over and cleared his throat. 

“Um. You… you have a meeting with Jinyoung at 7pm today,” he told you reluctantly. 

Your eyes turned towards him sharply. “What? Yugyeom, I told you not to give him any space to squeeze in until Monday!”

“He sent the intern,” Yugyeom mumbled with a pout. 

“The intern?”

“Hana, the intern from Sales. He sent her to ask me to set up a meeting.”

Unbelievable. You resisted the urge to pick up the nearest book and whack Yugyeom’s pouting face with it. How could he be so easily manipulated? Of course Jinyoung would send the pretty young intern from Sales to squeeze a meeting out of Yugyeom while you weren’t around. You groaned and slumped back into your chair. 

“Great. Well, since you decided to arrange a meeting that I explicitly told you not to, you can stay back late with me to prepare and attend it,” you replied. You were a kind, but unforgiving boss. “Print out the term sheet and make a note of all the changes we made. I want detailed reasoning behind every edit. Park Jinyoung won’t extract so much as an unnecessary comma out of me.”

“But that’ll take forever!” Yugyeom whined. “We made so many changes!”

You frowned. “That’s why I told you to hold him off until Monday.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

Yugyeom shuffled away to prepare for the meeting while you leaned back in your chair and sighed. It had been a long day. The company was undergoing a major restructuring, which meant that there were a lot of legal compliances to handle in addition to your ordinary work. You had been hoping to go home early today and take a nice, long shower. 

Damn you, Park Jinyoung. 

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

“She’s as stubborn as a mule,” Jinyoung explained to Hana as they walked towards the meeting room. The young intern struggled to keep up with Jinyoung’s long strides while paying attention to what he was saying at the same time. “It’s like talking to a brick wall. She doesn’t listen. She just reads out the rules and insists we follow them to a T. People like her lack compassion. They lack empathy.”

Hana blinked, surprised. But you had seemed nice whenever she saw you. You’d even approached her personally on her first day and helped her understand the employee code of conduct and the procedure to follow in case she faced any harassment or discrimination at work.  

“O-Oh.”

Jinyoung kept talking. “You need to learn how to negotiate with people like her. They’re the hardest because they enter the room, determined to get their way no matter what.”

“Don’t you do that as well?” she asked. 

What? No. I’m different. I get my way through compromise and collaboration. I suggest creative ideas that work for everyone. That’s how you negotiate a deal. She’s not like that. She doesn’t give a damn what the other person wants or does because she sees everything in black and white. Right and wrong. She issues ultimatums. A good negotiator never issues ultimatums. Repeat after me.”

“A good negotiator never issues ultimatums,” Hana said obediently. 

“Good. You’re learning already. Now. What’s our bottom line?” Jinyoung demanded. 

“Bottom line?”

“You never enter a negotiation without a bottom line. The bottom line is the worst result that you are willing to accept. If you can’t get the other party to agree to your bottom line, then you walk away from the negotiation immediately. It’s a safety net you set for yourself from clever people who might convince you to giving up more than you should.”

Hana bit her lip. “Bottom line. Right. Um, I guess maybe getting Legal to agree not to change the sub-licensing terms?”

“That’s a good start.”

“But how are you going to manage this? I read the email Legal sent and if she’s really as stubborn as you say then she’s not going to agree to budge on a single one of the terms. Their reasoning is sound.”

Jinyoung smirked. “Reasoning? We don’t need reasoning. There’s only one way to handle people as stubborn as her.”

“How’s that?”

“Persistence. You wear them out.”

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

The sound of Jinyoung’s annoying voice drifted into your ears, but all your exhausted mind could do was vividly visualize his head exploding. How satisfying would that be? To see his pretty face go poof and his blood and brains and innards coat the walls of the meeting room? 

It gave you a dark, morbid pleasure. 

“Why are you smiling?” Yugyeom whispered from beside you. 

"I'm not," you muttered before turning to focus on Jinyoung's monologue again. The poor intern he had brought to the meeting looked miserable, her head was drooping onto the table. But Jinyoung was still going full steam. You forced yourself to wipe the image of his scattered and bloody  brains out of your mind and focused on his words.

"-sub-licensing term was the only competitive advantage I had over the other players so I can't go back and tell them that it's off the table now. How would I look? It would damage the image of the company and question our professionalism!" Jinyoung insisted. 

You sighed and repeated the same thing you'd been repeating for the past two hours. You were starting to sound like a broken record. 

"Offering sub-licensing rights is against company policy."

Jinyoung gave you a dirty look. "So? Is company policy the word of God? It’s not even law. Can't it be changed for a deal as enormous as this one?"

"That's not in my hands."

Jinyoung leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. His dark eyes were suddenly pleading. "Come on. You know that if you refuse to approve this then I'll have to escalate it to Senior Management for approval and that could take weeks. The client wants to sign the agreement next Wednesday. All I need is for you to sign this one document and all our problems go away."

You were too tired to maintain your composure and your patience snapped. "Our problems? Let's be clear, Jinyoung. This is entirely your problem. You offered the client a term that nobody in their right mind would offer."

"I needed to-"

"No, you didn't. You did it because it was the only way you could win the negotiation. I thought the skill of a good negotiator lay getting the client to agree to our terms? Even I could have secured that contract by offering them a sub-licensing term because nobody else does that. It’s something only an imbecile would do and you agreed to do it."

Jinyoung's eyes darkened. "Oh, we're getting personal now?"

"You called our job a mere formality," you reminded him, while Yugyeom nodded furiously to support you. "There are a range of reasons why the company does not offer sub-licensing rights to our clients under non-exclusive licensing agreements, and I shouldn't have to explain them to you because it's all laid out in our business policy. You would know that better than I do, being a direct part of our business and not a mere formality like me."

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. "Really? You're going to get snarky? This is a professional environment."

"Yes and it's 10 pm," you replied, slamming your file shut. You were done. "Mr. Park, this meeting has been going on for three hours and we've made no progress. Yugyeom and I are going to get some dinner and go home. You have my edits in hard copy and on email. Once you sign off on them, we'll have the agreement drafted for you and your client to sign."

Jinyoung glowered. "But we haven't-"

"It's the edited term sheet or nothing, Jinyoung. Take it or leave it. This is what I believe negotiators refer to as an ultimatum," you replied firmly. 

Jinyoung's lips pressed together and he folded his arms across his chest. The expression in his dark eyes was dangerous. 

"Never issue an ultimatum unless you're prepared to face the consequences."

"What consequences? You getting chewed out by the client?" you chuckled as you stuffed your file into your bag and stood up. "I won't be losing a wink of sleep over that. Good luck explaining it to them."

"I can't believe-"

"Hana? Would you like to join us for dinner? We're going to get some pizza," you offered her kindly. The sleepy intern perked up, but her face fell instantly when she noticed the warning glare Jinyoung shot her. 

"Uhh, maybe another time, ma'am…"

"Suit yourself. Good night, Mr. Park."

Jinyoung ignored you, and you gestured for Yugyeom to follow you out of the office room. He hurried after you  into the corridor nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Mr. Park doesn't look happy. I don't think he's going to let this one go. What could his next move be?" Yugyeom wondered. 

You sighed. 

"I don't know. But he has all weekend to plan it so let's not get too comfortable."

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

Jinyoung's blood boiled whenever he thought of you. 

He had never met a woman like you before. You behaved like a strict school-teacher, lording over everyone with the almighty company policy in your hand as if it was some divine teaching and refusing to let anyone toe the line around it. It was just a stupid policy. Jinyoung had never let a document get in his way. Jinyoung had never let a woman get in his way. 

Jinyoung had never let anything get in his way. 

“So, um… what do we do now?” Hana asked doubtfully. She had seen Park Jinyoung in action before and had watched him negotiate like a wizard. She knew he was an excellent salesperson. But you had played the role of a brick wall during the meeting by refusing to consider any of the options put forward to you. “We didn’t get our bottom line. She refused to accept the sub-licensing terms. What’s the next step?”

Jinyoung bit his lip as he leaned back in his chair. “Do you know what a BATNA is, Hana?”

Hana blinked. “BATNA?”

“It’s an acronym. Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement. If the negotiation fails, what’s our next best choice? Go on. Give it a shot.”

“Uh….” Hana hurried to reach for a copy of the company policies and quickly flipped towards the section which talked about the mechanism for escalating disputes. “I guess according to company policy, we should escalate the issue to senior management-”

Jinyoung let out an irritated huff and closed his eyes. “Hana.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t ever open that company policy book in my presence. In fact, burn it so I never have to see it again. The stupid thing reminds me of that witch,” he snapped. Jinyoung opened his eyes and stared at Hana firmly. “You’re not in the Legal Department. You don’t need the rulebook. You’re with Sales now. Here in Sales, you need to do anything necessary under the sun to secure the deal. So try again, without opening the rulebook this time. What is the best alternative we have to a negotiation?”

Hana shook her head. “I-I don’t know.”

Jinyoung sighed. “Blackmail, Hana. Our next best alternative is blackmail.”

“Uh…”

“I know what you’re thinking. What could that witch have possibly done wrong in her life, could she even have a single black mark on her spotless record?” 

“Does she?”

“Of course not. She’s like a teacher’s pet. She derives her iron-clad confidence from the fact that she always follows the rules. You won’t find anything on her no matter how deep you dig. But you know who isn’t that strong and who has done something worth blackmailing?”

Hana blinked. “Who?”

Jinyoung smirked. 

“Kim. Yugyeom.”

[find-the-eyes]

I’ll Try Anything Once, Chapter 49

Written by: Erin, Beth, Sol, Allegra Edited by: Erin, Sol

“Did I tell you we have a party to go to tonight?”

Nick looked up from his textbook and closed it abruptly, glad to have an excuse to abandon his schoolwork. “No...it’s New Year’s Eve, right?”

“Yeah, it is. Someone should get you a calendar,” Alex laughed, “you want to go get ready? We have to be there at nine.”

“Do we have to walk there?”

“I think so. It’ll be a 20 minute walk.”

“... I don’t know if I can…” Nick trailed off with a sigh.

“That doesn’t matter for now. Just get ready, alright?”

Nick nodded, standing up and stretching. Alex smiled at Nick’s slightly-too-small t-shirt riding up over his stomach, exposing a strip of pale skin. Nick noticed Alex’s gaze and playfully smacked his shoulder with a giggle. “D’you think I need to shower?”

“Yeah, sure,” Alex replied. “I could...do you need help?”

“I think I’m good.”

“Oh,” Alex said, his expression falling as he watched Nick retreat down the hall on his crutches. “Are you sure you can stand for that long?”

“I dunno. Maybe? We’ll see,” Nick shrugged. “I’ll just sit if I have to.”

Alex bit his lip as Nick shut the bathroom door behind him. “O-okay.” He slowly returned to the living room, sitting down on the sofa and flipping on the TV. He tried his best to focus on the cooking program that was on, but every time he heard a little sound coming from the bathroom, his attention was diverted. He’s fine. Don’t worry about him. He can take care of himsel-

THUNK!

Alex leapt to his feet and bolted to the bathroom. “Nick?!” He yanked the door open and threw the shower curtain aside to find Nick standing upright, clutching a bottle of shampoo.

Nick gasped and whipped around to stare at Alex. “What?!”

“I…” Alex faltered. “I heard a noise and I- I thought you got hurt-”

“Oh, yeah. Dropped the shampoo. I’m fine.”

“Oh...uh...okay,” Alex said quietly. “Are you sure-”

Nick frowned. “I told you I was fine…”

“Sorry, love,” Alex said quietly. He backed out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him sheepishly.

Alex returned to his spot on the sofa, his heart still pounding and his mind still reeling with worst possible scenarios. He wanted nothing more than to make sure Nick was okay, watch over him at all times, help him with small tasks. But Nick was recovering, and Alex needed to accept that, needed to stop treating everything like a life or death situation.

A short while later, the boys headed out of the flat, fully bundled up to ward off the winter chill. Nick had decided on a red button-down shirt and a pair of sparkly black bell-bottom trousers, while Alex had changed into a pink shirt and black skinny jeans.

As they slowly made their way to the party, Nick’s already shortened breath became even more ragged as he began to recognise his surroundings. It looks like we’re near the… No, it can’t be…

Turning the corner, his eyes confirmed what his brain already knew: it was the abandoned building where he used to live. Bad memories came flooding back momentarily, until he noticed that it didn’t look quite the same as it did before. Whilst it was still clearly derelict, it looked somehow tidier from the outside, as if someone had fixed it up: the front door had been painted a bright blue, and the broken windows had been boarded up with plywood that was painted bright colours.

As Nick paused to examine his old haunt further, he realised that he could hear music coming from inside the building.

“Alex,” Nick looked at his boyfriend with befuddlement, “what is going on?”

Alex beamed. “Surprise,” he said, giving Nick a peck on the cheek. “While you were in the hospital, Paul and Bob and I helped fix the place up. It’s still not perfect, but it’s way nicer than it was before!”

Nick could only stare at the building, his mouth agape. Alex noticed this and began to panic. Oh shit, was this not a good idea?

“Nick, are you ok?” No response. “Nick? What do you think?”

Nick wasn’t sure what to think. Did he really want to venture into a place with so many bad memories?

Nick’s contemplation was interrupted by Alex placing a hand softly on his shoulder.

“I promise it’ll be ok, Nick.” Nick gazed at the taller man, who gave him a reassuring smile. With that, Nick linked one arm with Alex’s and they slowly began to make their way inside.

Nick’s jaw nearly dropped as he saw his former home. The lights inside were bright, broken lightbulbs replaced by warm, yellow light. The walls were painted white with splashes of bright color on the back wall. Fairy lights framed each window, the broken panes replaced with brightly painted plywood.

The once uninhabitable building was now a beautiful space filled with people and upbeat music. It was completely unrecognizable apart from the rafters above them, but even that had been cleaned up and decorated with lights, colourful paint, and tapestries.

“What do you think, Nick?” Nick awoke from his mesmerized state and stared slack-jawed at Alex for a moment before replying.

“I love it.” He barely managed to whisper, still in shock.

Alex, just able to hear Nick’s soft words, carefully wrapped his arms around his wide-eyed love. “Do you want to go sit down? I’ll bring you a hot chocolate?” Nick beamed at these words.

“I’ll be right back, then.” Alex helped Nick into a soft armchair and kissed him on the cheek as he went to find his love a nice, warm drink. Nick continued exploring the room with his eyes. He just couldn’t get over how neat and cosy this former hovel had become.

Nick was jolted out of his trance by a new presence next to him. He looked over, expecting to see Alex with a warm cup of hot cocoa. Instead, he was greeted by a pair of legs swathed in hot pink leopard print leggings. He looked up and saw a bright pink sparkling vest that left little to the imagination, and looking up further still Nick saw a familiar, grinning face.

“Dino?”

“Hi Nick, you look wonderful this evening.” Dino, though as gregarious as ever, wasn’t quite as flirty as he normally was: no lewd comments, no intense stares. Knowing that Nick hadn’t been at his best, Dino knew that now was not the time to hit on Nick; that could wait for another day.

“You seem well! How are you doing?”

“Um, I’m better. Thank you.” Nick smiled at the sparkling man in front of him. Despite what Alex had previously said about him, Nick liked Dino. He was unusual, but friendly, and seemed to genuinely care about Nick's wellbeing.

As the two were chatting, Nick noticed some shuffling in Dino’s vest. Dino, upon noticing Nick’s curiosity, reached inside and pulled out a tan and white rat in a vest that was just as sparkly and pink as Dino’s. Nick gasped at this wondrous sight.

“You remember Peanut, yeah?” Dino proudly showed off his beloved pet.

Nick nodded and grinned as Peanut twitched her little nose and started making her way towards him. She eventually curled up in a ball on his lap.

“She likes you!” Dino beamed with pride, grateful that someone else loved his rat almost as much as he did.

“Thanks for the birthday gift,” Nick said softly, remembering the rat plush he had at home.

“You’re so welcome! I saw the rat plush at IKEA and knew I had to get it for you! Have you named it?”

“Not yet,” Nick laughed, patting Peanut again.

“Maybe Steve? After my rat?”

Nick kept laughing at the prospect of a rat named Steve. “Maybe!” He took the opportunity of a short silence to look up at Dino. Nick never understood why Alex hated him so much — he was always kind and polite, at least to him. Maybe things were different at art school.

As soon as Dino got back to rambling about his new rat playground, a cup of hot cocoa plopped into Nick’s hands. Alex sat down beside him and squeezed his arm gently.

Nick laughed as the warmth from the hot cocoa gently misted his face. “Sure is strange being back here,” he sighed.

“In a good way?”

“Of course! It’s beautiful…” Nick trailed off as he kept looking around the space.

Suddenly, Dino and Peanut scurried off in a pink-vested blur. Alex looked to Nick, confused as to what Dino could be scurrying towards. However, upon approaching the dance floor, Alex saw that Paul was away from the DJ booth.

Upon seeing Dino approaching Paul, Bob froze from behind the DJ booth. Shit. Being left alone to manage the music was difficult enough — but having to watch Paul flirt with Dino, powerless behind giant, clunky headphones?

Bob shook his thoughts away and refocused on the task at hand — making sure that no one at this party got bored of the music choices. There was only an hour left until midnight, after all, and he had to play bangers while not wasting all of the good songs. Despite his focus on his task,  he couldn’t stop looking up at Paul and Dino — is Dino flirting? Why is Paul laughing? What the hell is so—

Bob nearly jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. “What—” he removed one side of his headphones and looked up at Alex standing behind him.

“I’ve got it. Prince House Rabbit on the decks,” Alex grinned.

“No, seriously— Prince House Rabbit?”

“Just go get your boy, Bob. We can talk about DJ names later.”

Bob took off his headphones and shoved them into Alex’s hands. “Play the Cha Cha Slide. It always does some good crowd control.”

As Bob walked away, he grinned, recognizing the Cha Cha Slide beginning to play over the speakers. He then heard the unmistakable pat pat pat of Nick scrambling to catch up to him on his crutches.

Bob’s smile quickly faded as he saw Paul brushing Dino’s hair out of his face. “Oh, absolutely not,” he muttered, apparently loud enough for Nick to hear over the Cha Cha Slide.

“Are you okay?” Nick gently nudged Bob with his shoulder, not wanting to lose his balance.

“Yeah, I—”

“We can do something else, if you want,” Nick glanced at Bob and then quickly looked away, “get a snack or something?”

Before Bob could even respond, Nick was wobbling off towards the snack table, where it was much less chaotic than close to the DJ booth.

“Dino was so nice to me earlier,” Nick scooped some pretzels onto a small paper plate, “now I know why you all don’t like him.”

“If he’s nice to you, then—”

“He’s flirting with your boyfriend, Bob!”

“We’re not—” Before Bob could finish his response, Nick was already wobbling away to the sofa near the snacks, trying not to drop his plate.

“We’re not dating,” Bob clarified once he met Nick at the sofa with his snacks.

Nick nodded thoughtfully, “then why are you so upset?”

“Because I love him, and I want to date him, but he’s—” Bob sighed, “I don’t think he values me like that.”

“I’m sure he does,” Nick fiddled with a stray piece of thread on the sofa, “he might just not know how to show it.”

“Well, it would sure help if he wasn’t over there flirting with Dino.”

“You’re right,” Nick sighed, wondering if just not talking anymore would be better than possibly hurting Bob’s feelings. He looked over at Alex, who noticed him and made a heart with his hands.

“Do you think we should go get him?” Bob looked over at Paul again. Dino was too close to him, and he didn’t seem to mind. Seemingly, he didn’t notice Bob at all.

“No, we can…” Nick trailed off, realizing just how affectionate Paul and Dino were being. “We can go tell him off later.”

“Wait, Nick--” Bob laughed to himself, “you really used to live here?”

“Yeah, for a few months,” Nick shrugged, “maybe the worst few months of my life.”

“I almost didn’t believe Paul when he told me why we were fixing this place up,” Bob looked around at the elaborate renovation, “you were always just sort of a mystery to me.”

“I lived up there,” Nick looked up towards the rathers, “I’d like to go up there just to see…”

“We can go, if you want,” Bob offered, wanting to get his mind off of Paul and Dino.

“How do we get up there, though? I don’t think I can do the rope ladder yet…” Nick sighed and got up from the sofa, trying to see an alternate way to the rafters.

“We could try the back,” Bob suggested, glancing towards the roped off area past the snack section. “I mean, there has to be a way to get up there back there, you know?”

Nick nodded and slowly made his way towards the roped off area. “Do you know where this goes?”

Bob grabbed a flashlight from one of the cabinets near the snacks. “I thought you would,” Bob hopped over the caution tape blocking off the hall. “Can you clear this?”

“Can try,” Nick clumsily swung over the barrier, nearly slipping in the dust on the floor.

Once Nick was steady, Bob trekked through the hall, blindly leading the way with the nearly-defunct flashlight. The floorboards creaked under his feet, nearly matching the beat of Nelly’s “Hot In Herre” playing from the other room. What the fuck, Alex?

Shaking his thoughts of Alex’s terrible music choice -- he just came over from Greece a few months ago, I should give him a break -- Bob looked over his shoulder to make sure Nick was following him.

“I-I think I should have a break, Bob,” Nick straggled along a few yards behind Bob. He looked around for somewhere to rest, but found that every available surface was coated in a thick layer of dust.

“Just a bit further,” Bob waited for Nick to catch up with him.

Nick, afraid of being left in the dark, scrambled up to Bob and leaned on him. Bob, not wanting Nick to topple over, slid a hand around his waist. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” Nick responded, “thanks.”

Bob stayed silent, recalling his day spent with Nick asleep next to him. He didn’t want to admit that they cuddled, but now… now that Paul was off flirting with Dino and he had Nick right here with him…

“... Do you remember cuddling with me, Nick?” Bob asked as they approached a staircase.

“I can’t do stairs yet.”

“But the cuddles, Nick.”

“I know I fell asleep on you a couple weeks ago. I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bob smiled, “I’m glad I was there for you.”

Nick nodded and broke away from Bob, wobbling towards the stairs on his crutches. “How do I get up there?”

“Try crawling? I’ll— I’ll spot you.”

Nick nodded and got down on his hands and knees. Bob carried Nick’s crutches as he slowly followed him up the stairs, until they reached a door. Bob busted the door open to find a small corridor leading to the rafters.

Bob grabbed Nick’s hand to help him back on his feet, and steadied him on his crutches before continuing into the hallway. Nick’s limbs were sore from crawling up the wooden staircase, but he refused to let the pain show on his face.

“Looks like we’re almost there,” Bob reassured Nick, whose breathing was noticeably heavier. However, Nick was determined to reach their destination without needing a break, and the two of them let the light at the end of the hallway guide them.

Soon the narrow hallway opened up into the large space that was once Nick’s former home, but he hardly recognized it. Two couches and a recliner replaced what used to be a pile of blankets, and strings of lights were wrapped around the newly painted rafters over their heads.

“Oh wow,” Bob broke the silence as they looked around in awe. “It’s so nice and cozy up here.” During the renovation, Bob dedicated his time to painting the walls downstairs and hadn’t gotten a chance to see the rafters until now.

“It didn’t always look like this.” Nice and cozy was the last way Nick would describe this place a few months ago. Paul really did an incredible job renovating the place, even more noticeably so as they approached the couches and spotted a maroon rug on the floor that matched the pillows.

Nick sat himself down on one of the couches, grateful to finally be able to rest, and Bob followed, plopping down next to him on the comfortable cushion.

“Your boyf— I mean— Paul really knows how to fix up a building.” Bob could only respond with a sad laugh, amused with Nick’s caution of referring to Paul as his boyfriend, but also hurt by the reminder that he wasn’t.

The flashy lights from the dancefloor below illuminated their spot, and the booming bass from another awful pop song slightly vibrated the rafters underneath them. Bob smiled at Alex’s continued horrible song choices, but his smile slowly faded when he recognized two figures below them on the dance floor. Bob could spot Paul a mile away, and Dino’s bright pink outfit was hard to miss.

Nick, who had been silently observing Bob from beside him, followed his gaze to the couple. It was uncomfortable for the both of them to watch the way Paul and Dino were pressed against each other, their bodies practically melted together and swaying to the music. Nick felt Bob tense up next to him as Dino then began to lean in until his lips crashed into Paul’s. Bob’s heart immediately sunk, and his stomach churned.

“It makes you sad, doesn’t it?” Nick asked, barely loud enough over the music for Bob to hear.

“More like it breaks my heart.” Bob stared at his hands, afraid to look up and even catch a glimpse of the nightmare unfolding below him.

“I’m sorry.” Nick wasn’t entirely sure what else to say, but he hated seeing Bob so sad. Nick put an arm around Bob’s shoulders as he began to shake and tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Bob knew that he and Paul weren’t a couple, but he still wasn’t entirely sure why. How could Paul say that he loved him, but then sleep with someone else? Did he even mean it?

“Has Alex ever told you that he loves you?”

There was a brief silence as Nick contemplated telling Bob the truth, but he ultimately decided that he trusted Bob and responded with a “yes.”

Bob ignored the slight pang of jealousy stemming from whatever feelings he still had left for Alex. “How do you know that he really means it?” Bob needed to know what true love actually looks like, because he was sure it wasn’t what he was receiving from Paul.

“Well,” Nick started, “he takes care of me. He’s patient with me, and loyal.” Nick had never described Alex like this to someone before, and his heart fluttered as he reflected on the many loving moments they shared. “He makes me feel loved. It’s a feeling, not just words. It’s the way he looks at me.”

Nick’s voice drifted off and Bob wiped his eyes before tilting his head to look at Nick. Nick wasn’t looking directly at Bob, but staring off into the distance somewhere next to his head, his blue eyes sparkling and a small smile tugging at his lips. Bob guessed the look Nick was talking about was the same one in his eyes right now as he described Alex.

Bob confessed his biggest fear, “I don’t think Paul loves me.” Bob looked back to the dancefloor but Paul and Dino were nowhere to be seen, having either shifted out of his sight or gone to another area for more privacy. “He says he does, but how could he do this to me?”

Nick couldn’t even imagine the pain he’d feel if Alex were to ever kiss someone else in front of him. “Maybe you need to talk to him, tell him you don’t want him seeing Dino anymore.”

Bob sighed, “You’re right, it's just hard to get anything out of him sometimes. Relationships confuse him, I think.”

“He does care about you. He looks at you differently.”

“Really?” Bob asked, looking back at Nick who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, like how Alex looks at me.”

Next thing Bob knew, Nick’s face began to lean into his, causing his heart to beat faster. Before Bob could stop him or ask what he was doing, Nick gently pressed his lips against Bob’s cheek. Despite the innocence of the gesture, Bob still felt his face burn, and he missed the feeling of Nick’s soft lips as soon as he pulled away. Bob had forgotten that Nick’s arm was around him until it slipped off as he stood up. “C’mon, let’s not let this ruin your New Years.”

Bob grabbed Nick’s hand to stop him before standing up. “Thank you, Nick.” It felt good getting this off of his chest to someone, and Bob couldn’t imagine a better person to talk to than Nick. Both of them couldn’t seem to stop smiling as they trekked through the corridor, and Bob sensed the beginning of a new friendship.

Nick carefully made his way back down the stairs, and with Bob’s help, the both of them were able to return to the dance floor before midnight. “Let’s see how Alex is holding up,” Bob suggested, locking his eyes on the DJ booth and refusing to let them stray to sights he didn’t want to see.

“Hey, where have you guys been?” Alex asked as they approached him. Nick sensed an annoyance in his stance, but regardless Alex looked grateful to see his boyfriend and his best friend.

“Talking,” was all Bob responded with as he grabbed a nearby stool for Nick and placed it next to Alex’s. When Nick sat down, he caught a glimpse at the time from Alex’s laptop. 11:50.

“What are you thinking of playing at midnight?” Nick asked, peering up at the laptop screen Alex was scrolling on with ravenous intensity.

“You’ll see,” Alex kept scrolling.

Bob leaned against the booth and let his mind wander. He wanted to see Paul and wanted to spend his New Years with him, but he still felt uneasy over the whole situation with Dino. Bob dared to look towards the dance floor for the first time since talking with Nick, and although it was crowded, he was able to spot Paul who was by himself this time, grabbing a drink from the snacks table.

Suddenly, three blonde girls from Alex’s studio art class who were wearing sparkly gold dresses and heels that looked impossible to walk in approached the DJ booth. “Could you play that new Libertines song?” One of them asked.

“After midnight,” Alex sighed, exasperated, adding the song to his endless list of requests.

“And, while I’m here, why haven’t you guys played a gig in so long?”

Alex ignored the question, or couldn’t hear it. This left Nick or Bob to speak up.

“Well…” Nick started, too softly for anyone to hear him.

“Midterms!” Bob interrupted.

“Get back to gigs soon?” The girl inquired.

“Of course.”

“If you see Paul on the floor,” Alex took off his headphones to speak to the girls, “could you tell him to get back to managing his own party?”

The girls walked away, but Paul was already on his way back to the booth. “Well would you look who it is,” Alex said in a bitter tone, “Managed to pull yourself away?” Bob noticed the glare Alex and Nick were giving Paul, and matched it with one of his own. Paul shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m sorry I was gone for so long. Can I—”

“No,” Alex interrupted, refusing to give up his spot, “I have a plan. Maybe if you weren’t off with Dino...” Bob almost couldn’t believe how blunt Alex was being by calling out Paul, but he felt a sense of pride. Paul deserved this.

“Can I please be back in charge?”

“After midnight, if you want,” Alex tapped the touchpad. 11:58.

Paul smiled as soon as he heard the song Alex had put on. “Mr Brightside?” He laughed, “I do love The Killers.”

Bob stood up straighter, paying more attention to this song than whatever nonsense Alex was playing before. As the song launched into its chorus, Bob shot a look towards Alex, who gave him a subtle smirk and slightly tilted his head towards Paul.

Feeling a new sense of confidence, Bob rounded the booth to Paul and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the edge of the dance floor.

“Hey,” was all Paul said, and Bob hated that he couldn’t decipher the emotion on his face. Bob felt angry, scared, excited, a whole whirlwind of emotions that almost made him shake. How is Paul not… feeling this?

“What have you been doing all night?” Bob already knew, but he wanted to hear it from Paul, wanted to make him admit it.

Paul couldn’t look Bob in the eyes. “I’ve been with Dino.”

“Why?” Bob responded sharply, running his thumb over his knuckles for support.

“Why not? You can’t put restrictions on me, Bob. We aren’t even officially together.” Bob wanted to hate Paul, but he couldn’t. The lighting of the dance floor cast shadows on Paul’s face that highlighted his best features. He was so beautiful, even when he was breaking Bob’s heart, and Bob just wanted to be his.

“Can’t you-” Bob’s throat closed up on itself before he could finish. Tears threatened to escape his eyes, but he held them back, trying to remain strong for once.

Paul took a step closer to Bob, getting a soft look in his eyes as guilt began to way him down. He hated seeing Bob upset, and being the cause of it crushed him. “Don’t think this means I care any less about you, Bob.” Paul grabbed Bob’s face in his hands. “You mean so much to me.”

“I don’t want you to be with Dino.” Bob managed shakily, pulling away. “I want you to be with me.”

Before Paul could respond, the crowd around them began to collectively count down the minute until the new year. 59, 58, 57...

Bob didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t know where else to go. Paul didn’t love him and Paul didn’t want to be with. He felt humiliated and stupid, and he just wanted to disappear, didn’t want to see the sad look Paul was giving him.

30, 29, 28... Bob looked away from Paul for a moment to catch Alex rushing towards a dark corner towards the back of the room, Nick hobbling on his crutches close behind. Their excitement was obvious from all the way across the room, and for the first time Bob felt happy for them, rather than jealous. After his conversation with Nick, Bob could confirm that there was real and pure love between them.

10, 9, 8... Alex seemed unable to wait any longer as he pulled Nick into a kiss before they both disappeared from sight.

As everyone around them cheered, “3, 2,1, Happy New Year!” Bob looked back at Paul. They stared at each other in silence for a moment despite the celebration surrounding them. Bob waited for Paul to just walk away, go find Dino, to never talk to him again, but instead Paul took a step closer to him. Paul slowly lifted his hand to place on the back of Bob’s head, as if scared he would resist this time too. However, Bob didn’t back away; he couldn’t. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as he waited for Paul’s next move. Paul leaned in slowly, his eyes gravitating to Bob’s mouth and his hand pulling him closer. Bob could feel Paul’s breath against his face as he whispered, “happy new year, Bob,” before connecting their lips. As they stood there, gently pressed together, Bob felt the pain in his heart subside. After a moment, Bob wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist to pull him even closer, feeling almost selfish and wanting the world to know that Paul was his.

Bob didn’t know how much time had passed when they finally broke apart. He pulled Paul into a hug instead and whispered in his ear, “Happy new year, Paul.” It felt good to have Paul this close again, and Bob focused on their matched breathing, prepared to stay like this for the rest of the night.

-

Shimmering red flashes of light crackled and illuminated the sky above Nick and Alex.

“Pretty,” Nick said, trying not to shiver from the cold. The two boys sat on a concrete ledge they had found along the perimeter of the building, having escaped from the party to observe the fireworks going off from a few blocks down.

“They really are,” Alex responded, pulling Nick slightly closer by his shoulders to keep both of them warm. The sound of another explosion rang in the air before streaks of white light drew lines in the dark sky in all different directions. Every time this happened, Alex could feel Nick flinch slightly, but he didn’t express any concerns, seeming to enjoy the light show more than anything.

The concept of time continuing on without being able to stop terrified Alex, and he often found himself dreading each coming year. In previous years he couldn’t understand how people could celebrate getting older and losing the past, but today he didn’t feel so pessimistic about starting a new year. “What do you think about 2005?”

“It’s been good so far.” Of course Nick’s answer was simple, but Alex appreciated it nonetheless.

“I agree. I’m so happy I get to spend it with you, Nitzki.” Alex found Nick’s hands from his lap and held them in his own as another attempt to keep him warm.

“I think this year will be the best one yet.”

Alex let out a small laugh. “What makes you say that?”

“I have you, now.” Nick looked away from the light show for a moment to speak to Alex. “And Steck.” The mention of their furry companion made them both smile.

“And Bob and Paul,” Alex added.

“Yes, them too. I hope they figure out their relationship.”

“Me too. I really don’t get what Paul’s deal is. Bob doesn’t deserve this,” Alex said, reflecting on the anger he felt towards Paul watching him dance and make out with Dino all night.

“He doesn’t. Bob is a good person.”

“He really is.” The two of them then sat in silence for a while, admiring what they assumed to be the finale of the fireworks show as colorful lights rapidly exploded in the air.

The silence that followed was comfortable. Alex and Nick continued to hold each other in the cold night, and the streaks of smoke lingering in the sky were the only evidence left of the fireworks. A slight sadness fell upon Nick, but he glanced over at Alex again and felt comfort in knowing that not everything beautiful disappeared so quickly.

[thewhiterabbit42]

Beard Kink

Part of Tantalizing Trickster Tuesday

Pairing: Gabriel x reader

Summary: Gabriel riles the reader up with a little extra something he’s brought on the hunt.  

Written for: Anon - beard kink request and @spnkinkbingo

Square Filled:  Free Space

Word Count:  1777

Tags/Warnings: beard kink, oral sex, brief fingering

A/N: It’s after midnight and I’m mangling what my beta fixed doing final edits.  I bet she’s waking up with chills as we speak.  

You still weren’t certain how he talked you into it.  Probably because there wasn’t a whole lot of talking involved.  He was all sly looks and subtle touches, priming you throughout the hunt until you were practically sprinting back to your motel room for some much needed self-release.

Imagine your surprise when you found him waiting just inside.  

You still hadn’t made it more than a few steps in.  There you were, leaning heavily against the door, stripped from the waist down with an enthusiastic archangel between your thighs.  His technique was amazing, though you expected no less from someone with centuries to perfect it.  What was really making you weak in the knees was the latest addition to his look.  

“What is that on your face?”  You didn’t mean to sound rude, but, really?  He was going to show up with that and expect you to accomplish anything?

“Like it?”  He struck a pose, trailing the back of his fingers along his jaw.   

It had been your undoing.  All those nights of careful dancing, of volleying back his flirtations and using every ounce of self-restraint, shattered by a well-trimmed beard.  

“Oh fuck.”  Your legs wobbled, exhaustion and a heady rush of desire nearly taking you to the floor.  You latched onto the doorknob, simultaneously bracing yourself on his shoulder.  

“Let go, sugar,” he murmured, his grace sweeping around your backside.  “I got you.”  

You didn’t have much of a choice.  Worn muscles gave a final aching flair, unable to bear your weight any longer as his mouth latched back onto your clit and did something that defied reality.  As promised, you didn’t end up on your ass.  You simply dropped a few inches before being caught by something that reminded you of a warm blanket.

He ran his hands up your calves before grabbing you by the back of your knees and lifting your legs over his shoulders.  They continued up your thighs, cresting over the curves of your backside.  He indulged himself in a handful before easing you forward, cheek scraping along your inner thigh as he teased away from your sex.  

You wriggled, enjoying every moment as he drew it out, the fire in your stomach igniting with every rub of his chin.  

Cocky ass.  You knew half the reason he did it was so he couldn’t be put in the one and done category.  You’d have no choice but to remember him with the burn he was leaving.

It made you wonder what else he might do to ensure you thought of him the next day.  

You carded your fingers through his curls, hips arching forward, seeking friction elsewhere again.  

“Someone is nee-dy,” he chuckled.  

He ran his tongue along your slit, and the way his fingers followed pulled a mew from your mouth.  He sank one into you, your head dropping back against the door as he moaned against you.  

“Father, you are soaked,” he breathed.  “Mmmm, and so fucking warm.”  You whined as he withdrew from you, his hands moving to steady your hips.  A devious gleam overtook gold.  “But I’m getting ahead of myself.  I have big plans for you, and they start with undoing you with my mouth.”  

You sucked in air as he traced his tongue along your folds.  

“Then again with my hands.”  

He kissed along your mound, intentionally ignoring that nexus of nerve endings you so desperately needed him to touch again.  

“I think the third I’ll try both.”  

His mouth landed chastely on your clit and you could have screamed when it was only enough to create a small spark of pleasure.  

“Then, if you’re good, we’ll talk about what else I might have to please you with.”

A sinful smirk graced his features, and heat pooled further between your legs.

“I hope you can put your money where your mouth is, feathers.”    

“Oh, I’ll put more than that here, sweetheart,” he promised.   

He snapped, and you found yourself staring up at the stained tile ceiling, ensconced in fluffy lightness.  Thinly padded and sagging springs were replaced by a down comforter on top of what might have been a cloud.  You couldn't be sure, but the mattress itself was certainly large and airy enough to be one.

“Show off,” you sighed, throwing your arms back and enjoying the plushness surrounding you.

“Just you wait.”  

He peeled off his jacket, and you looked up in time to watch him remove his shirt.  You’d always wondered what lay beneath all those layers, and the lean but fit frame had you salivating more than washboard abs ever could.  He looked real, not some divine specimen of perfection and a reminder that he was well and truly out of your league.  

“Ah, ah,” he said, holding up a finger and waving it back and forth.  “I don’t know where your head just went, but there will be none of that.”   

He got up on the bed, dropping down onto his hands and knees.  Honeyed hues became molten as he began to climb the length of you, his frame moving with feline grace.  There was a predatory air about him, as if he might devour you at any moment.  

The hunger in his stare when the rest of your clothes vanished suggested he might do just that.

“Now where should I start?”  He questioned, eyes drinking in the sight of you.  “I bet there are some nice, sensitive spots right here.”  He nibbled along the side of your neck, sending goosebumps flourishing across your skin.  

“These are always a crowd pleaser.”  He slid lower, lips tracing over your collarbone before moving along the tops of your breasts.  He brought his face down into your cleavage, the drag of his beard causing you to arch and push more of yourself against him.  

“I bet I could make you come with these alone,” he rasped, grazing his cheek beneath a soft swell before his tongue darted out, flicking at a nipple.  A strangled noise lodged in your throat, fingernails digging into his back as you urged him on.  

“Or maybe I should finish where I started?”  He continued lower, placing lazy, open mouthed kisses along your stomach, each one preceded by a wiry scratch from his chin.  

You’d never had any man spend so much time on foreplay. Most were interested only in what was necessary to get you started.  Gabriel, on the other hand, took his time, exploring every inch of skin, and by the time he hooked your legs around him once again, you were absolutely throbbing for him.  

He lapped at your juices, probing into your slick channel and making you squirm.  He had to hold you down, hands pressing your hips into the mattress when he finally returned to your clit, and the things he did with his tongue alone were going to ruin you for anyone else.  Your legs tightened around him, and he began to move his head, rubbing his face along your thighs and sending you straight into the stratosphere.  

You had never come so loudly - or hard - before in your life, the entire world inking around the edges as bright spots flashed across the back of your eyelids.  Your body finally went slack, your hands tingling as you started to descend.  

“Fuck,” you breathed, your legs shaking as he eased himself out from beneath them.  There was no way you were going to survive another one of those.  

“I hate to say it.”  You really, really hated to.  “But I’m not certain I’m up for a round two.”  

You were sorely regretting not taking Dean up on his offer to relieve you earlier so you could catch a nap.

“Believe it or not, I can have that effect on people.”

You cracked an eye to find him positively preening, smugness splashing self-satisfied across his face.  

“You’re not upset?”   

Most guys you brought back would be, at best, making passive aggressive remarks while getting ready to leave, and, at worst, laying on the guilt trip or pressuring you to continue.

“Seriously?”  His brow shot up.  “I just wrecked you in a single orgasm.  That’s a success in my book.”  

He patted your thigh before sitting up, replacing his clothes in a single snap.  A second comforter appeared in his hands and he buried you beneath it, making sure you were securely tucked in for the night.  “Get some rest.  You’ll need it for tomorrow.”  

A satisfied smile adorned your face as you closed your eyes, the sound of the door opening and closing barely registering.  

***

You couldn’t believe how tired you still were.  There were muscles you’d forgotten existed, a pleasant soreness and exhaustion echoing with every movement you made.  You could barely sit still, the hard booths of the diner not helping, but there was one discomfort that registered above all else.

And you could not have been more pleased.  

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”  Dean asked, his question more idle conversation as he scanned the menu.

You shifted your legs unconsciously, relishing the burn along your thighs.  You thought back to shades of gold between your legs and you couldn’t keep your lips from curling at the edges.  You came up with a suitable excuse, the words about to leave your tongue.  

Before you could speak, someone else chimed in.  

“Can’t a girl just smile?”  Gabriel asked.  “I know it’s a foreign concept for you Gloomchesters, but not everybody makes their living being tall, dark, and broody.”

His fingers drummed along the seat behind you, arm stretched casually along your shoulders.  Every now and then his jacket would graze yours, and you weren’t certain whose awareness he was testing more: yours or your friends’.  

“Remind me why you’re still here?”  Dean demanded, features hardening as he glanced at the archangel.

Sam cleared his throat, and his brother resisted the urge to roll his eyes.   “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help, but with most of the coven out of the way, cleaning up the stragglers should be like shooting fish in a barrel.  Nothing I’d think would interest you.”

To be fair, it was a valid question.  Even you had been surprised to find him waiting outside the Impala this morning.  

“Normally, it wouldn’t, but…”  He paused, running his fingers thoughtfully over the side of his mug before picking it up.  “Believe it or not, it’s not all about you, Deana-rino, or Jolly Green there.  I’ve got some unfinished business of my own.”  He took a sip of his drink, eyes twinkling as they briefly met yours.  “And I intend to stick around until I take care of it.”  

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[moretreasurewithinarchive]

The Valley of the Roses

This was a fairy tale I wrote 4 years ago, while part of a Narnia rp group. It was a writing prompt based on this picture.

The picture is by AquaSixio on Deviant Art, and can be found here. The original prompt can be found here. And my original story can be found here. The one below the cut is edited for clarity and hopefully better grammar.

Once upon a time, in a quaint and provincial little town at the base of a tall and treacherous mountain, there lived a young man. This young man was a knight who served his kingdom with bravery and wisdom. He was very much a favorite of the good king and queen, who always took his guidance to heart. This valiant young knight seemed to have the world at his feet. Yet, his heart was heavy and full of melancholy.

For it was while he was away, defending his kingdom from a wicked neighboring land, he received an urgent message that he must return home with haste. Upon arriving back, he found the girl he loved more than his own life had fallen very ill. Determined to do whatever it took to save her, the knight sought out the help of all the best doctors and magic workers in the kingdom. When they failed to heal the girl, he traveled the realm over hoping to find someone who could take the sickness away. None had been able to succeed, and he fell into despair. Every night, he would sit by her bedside with her hand clasped in his. And every night he would promise that all would be well; that he’d heard of yet another doctor or wizard who could work the miracle they so desperately needed. But the girl grew worse with every passing day. Both she and her knight knew that she was dying, but still he refused to give up his search for a cure.

Several months later, the king and queen noticed that their once lighthearted and vibrant friend had changed. No longer did he linger at the palace to talk. No longer did his stories fill the halls with laughter and awe. “We must find the cause for this change, and remedy it at once.” The king and queen decided, and called the knight to them.

Standing in the throne room before them, the knight’s head and shoulders hung heavy with their awful burden. Seeing for themselves the grave turn he’d taken, the king and queen implored him, “Please, o friend, won’t thou tell us the cause of thy suffering so that we may set it right again?”

By this time, however, even the knight was beginning to lose hope that he would ever be able to make his beloved well again. Yet, he was still a noble and good man; with no desire to trouble the king and queen with his woes. It was for this reason he’d never told them before. However, after much pressing and promises that they would do whatever it took to make the problem right, the knight broke down. The trust and loyalty he had so long shown the king and queen, they now gave back to him in abundance.

Tears pouring from his eyes, he confided at last in the king and queen. “The girl I love more than anything is very ill, majesties. I have searched so very long for a cure for her. I’ve brought all the best doctors and magicians in the realm to her, but none can ease her agony. Every day she grows worse and worse, and I fear she will soon die without a cure.”

Moved by his plight, and feeling their own hearts fill with sadness, the good king and queen at last understood. For they knew the girl well, and loved her as dearly as the knight himself. Stunned that he had not come to them sooner, the king and queen told him they might know what would save her life. Renewed by the discovery, the knight pleaded desperately for what they knew. “All know our kingdom is placed at the foot of the mountain,” They told him. “It is said that on the other side of the mountain, there is a valley of great magic, where sky and earth seem separated not. Where the stars shine so bright and so close, that if one were to reach out, they could pluck one right from the heavens. In this marvelous valley, it is said that for every person born in the realm, there grows a rose. The roses are said to be magic and kept safe under domes of sparkling diamond and the clearest glass. To heal her, thou must scale the mountain and go to the valley. Find her rose and remove the dome. Pluck out that which is sick and return with the healthy petals that grow in its place, and if she eats them, she will be saved.”

Hope filling his soul once more, the knight thanked the king and queen and ran out right away to prepare for the journey. He gathered his armor, sword, and shield, for the mountain was fraught with dangers beyond the wildest dreams. Stopping only to tell the girl he would return soon with a cure, he set off on his journey. When passing the castle, the king and queen met him at the gate with a small pouch. “It will help thee on thy way.” They told him. Wishing the knight luck, the king and queen watched him race toward the mountain.

As he reached the base, the knight looked up. How very tall it seemed now! How could he ever reach the top to get to the valley? But he knew he had to try. If he failed, the girl would die, and that was a fate he could not face. Tying the little pouch to the belt on which his sword hung at his waist, the knight began to climb. Slowly and carefully, he made his way up and up toward the top of the mountain. By the time he climbed a quarter of the way up, night had fallen, and knight knew he had to stop until dawn. Thankfully, the ground had leveled some, and he was able to search for a shelter for the night. Moments later, the knight found a cave and was able to build himself a fire.

Just as the knight grew weary and felt his eyes begin to close, a voice called out in anger, “Who is this that invades my cave?” Jumping to his feet with his hand upon his sword, the knight looked around. Much to his surprise, a gnarled little gnome appeared.

“Forgive me, little Gnome.” The knight implored, “I am on my way to the valley of the roses on the other side of the mountain to bring a cure to my beloved, and needed only to rest for the night.”

The gnome was hardly moved by his plea, and the greedy creature began to imagine the sumptuous feast the knight would make; for none who dared enter his cave made it out alive. “Thou have done well to make it thus far, o Knight. But unless thou carries with thee something more valuable than thy own meat, thou shall never see the valley of the roses.”

Knowing that he had nothing with which to offer the gnome, the knight was ready to fight the creature. But then he remembered the pouch. Opening it, the knight found right on the top a piece of meat with a note. ‘This meat has been enchanted by the court wizard so that it will never diminish in its bounty. Use it well.’ Pulling the morsel out, the knight offered it to the gnome. The glutinous creature took the meal and began to eat. Even after several minutes, when he did not run out of meat, the gnome was content and slunk back to his hole in the cavern wall. With the monster at bay, the knight was able to sleep, and he woke as the dawn rose for the next part of his journey.

Up and up the mountain the knight climbed, ever so carefully and slowly. By midday, he found himself half way up the mountain. Allowing himself a moment to rest against a boulder, the knight found himself quite famished. Knowing he had to find food to keep his strength up, he soon found a hallow tree that was full of honey. Helping himself to a few bites, the knight soon felt full. Yet, the moment he stepped away from the tree, a fierce growl rent the air as the earth thundered and quaked. Before the knight was able to run or draw his sword, he found himself facing a terrible black bear; the largest and meanest bear he’d ever set eyes on. “Who is this that steals my gold?” The bear demanded.

“Forgive me, great Bear,” The knight implored. “I am on my way to the valley of the roses on the other side of the mountain to bring a cure to my beloved, and needed only a morsel to satisfy my hunger.”

The bear was hardly moved by his plea, and the greedy creature began to think of his precious golden honey and imagine how long it would take it replace that which the knight had eaten; for none who dared help themselves to his honey made it out alive. “Thou have done well to make it thus far, o Knight. But unless thou carries with thee something more valuable than that gold thou have robbed me of, thou shall never see the valley of the roses.”

Knowing that he had nothing with which to offer the bear, he turned again to his pouch. Opening it, the knight found right on top a plate of ambrosia and a note. ‘This ambrosia came to our kingdom with a merchant from a far off land. It is said that none who catch it’s scent can deny themselves a sample. Use it well.’ Pulling the plate out, and holding his breath, the knight offered it to the bear. The greedy creature took a single sniff, and the moment the smell hit his nose, the bear began to scarf it down. With the monster at bay, the knight was able to slip away unnoticed and catch a moment’s rest for the next part of his journey.

Up and up the mountain the knight climbed, ever so carefully and slowly. By sunset, he found himself three quarters of the way up the mountain. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the knight took notice of how parched he was. Knowing he had to find water lest he faint, he soon found a small river with the clearest running water he’d ever beheld. Cupping his hands, the knight took a sip or two and soon felt his thirst quenched. Yet, the moment he rose, a terrible hissing and splashing rent the air as the river seemed to race with rage. Before the knight could act, he found himself facing an ugly and awful crocodile; the longest and strongest he’d ever set eyes on. “Who is this that drinks of my river?” The crocodile demanded.

“Forgive me, mighty Crocodile,” The Knight implored. “I am on my way to the valley of the roses on the other side of the mountain to bring a cure to my beloved, and needed only a small bit to quench my thirst.”

The crocodile was hardly moved by his plea, and the greedy creature began to lament how there was now even less of the water for himself; for none who dared drink of his river made it out alive. "Thou have done well to make it thus far, o Knight. But unless thou carries with thee something more valuable than my precious water, thou shall never see the valley of the roses.”

Knowing that he had nothing with which to offer the crocodile, he went to the pouch for the third time. Opening it, right on top the knight found a vial of nectar and a note. ‘This nectar is from the best of the castle gardens. Its roses are the sweetest smelling and make the most delicious juices. Use it well.’ Pulling the vial out, the knight offered it to the crocodile. Upon tasting the delectable sugars of the nectar, the crocodile sunk back to the depths of the river, never to be content with mere water again. With the monster at bay, the knight was able to cross the river and prepare for the next part of his journey.

Up and up the mountain the Knight climbed, ever so carefully and slowly. By dark, he found himself at last at the peak. Overjoyed to see the valley below, the knight began to race forward, paying no mind to where his feet did trod. Yet, the moment he reached the edge, a soft and melodious voice filled the air. “Who is this that runs so carelessly and destroys my garden?” The voice demanded.

Turning, the knight found himself face to face with a young woman; the most beautiful he’d ever set eyes on. “Forgive me, my lady,” The knight implored, “I am on my way to the valley of the roses just below to bring a cure to my beloved, and only needed to hurry.”

The lady was hardly moved by his plea, but she was the clever witch who ruled the mountain; the most wicked of all the monsters the knight had met. She had decided to trick the knight into staying with her forever; for none who fell under her spell made it out alive. Pretending at once to pity the knight, the witch invited him inside her house for a glorious feast.

"Thou have done well to make it thus far, o Knight. But thou can hardly press on without first staying the night with me. Unless thou carries with thee something more valuable than thy company and beauty, the valley of the roses shall wait.” She answered, giving him a charming smile that would surely make him forget his quest.

But the knight was true to his word and could not forget his beloved back home. “Thy offer is most kind, Lady.” He said, and turned to his pouch for the last time. “I pray thou will take this gift with my thanks.” Opening it, the Knight found right on top a hand mirror and a note. ‘This mirror was from the queen’s collection. It is enchanted to make the gazer see whatever they wish to see. Use it well.’ Pulling the mirror out, the knight offered it to the witch. Upon seeing her own reflection in the mirror, the witch was put under her own spell and never wanted to behold anything but her lovely face again. With monster at bay, the knight was finally able to descend the mountain and reach the valley of the roses.

When at last the knight reached the valley, he froze in awe. It was just as the king and queen had said. The sky, colored vibrantly with purples, blues, and pinks, seemed to know no bounds. The grass and clouds appeared to touch, and the stars were just a reach away. And as as far as the eye could see, roses lay scattered about under clear domes of glass and diamond. Without a moment to lose, the knight began to search for the rose that was bound to his beloved. Dome after dome he checked. Some roses were just buds not yet in bloom. Others had already begun to wilt. How could he ever find the right one?

After searching for many many hours, at last he knelt before a rose that looked quite odd. Pink and fresh as the rest of the roses in their prime it was, but it seemed to wilt and turn black with death. This had to be it! Before the dome, the knight lifted it, ready to cut away the diseased parts and save his dear girl from certain death. Lifting his sword, he took a deep breath. But then, something began to change. All the parts of the rose that were pink began to turn black with the air! Horrified, he reached out to stop it. The moment his fingers touched the flower, it turned to ash and crumbled. “No! No!” The knight yelled in agony. “My child, I have failed you.”

Knowing that he had not made it in time to save his daughter’s life, the knight laid himself down next to the pile of ash and the dome. Unable to bear the pain of losing his whole world, he never moved again.

[fucking-hydra]

Obedience Trials

This is really got away from me. Fuck. I inspired myself with my own post, then decided to really go for it. Ta-daaaa.

Warnings/Tags: Emetophobia, Unsanitary, Torture, Electrocution, Rape, Dehumanization, Starvation/Dehydration, Gore, Forced to Choose Between Different Types of Torture, probably a lot more I cannot think of how to tag, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

For reference, the crate they use looks like this:

(Edit: Did I just realize that I didn’t put an image description on this? Yes. Yes I did.)

[Image Description: Image of a heavy-duty metal dog crate. The entire crate is made of grey metal, with solid metal sides that have holes for air flow. The corners of the crate are reinforced with black metal corners, and there screws all along the edges of the crate. On the top are metal handles inlayed at the front and back of the crate. 

The front door of the crate has four latches, one above and one below the door frame close on the far right of the door, and two more on the right side of the door, one above and one below the actual latch of the door. Above and below the latch, spanning across most of the door from left to right, are open panels looking into the crate with vertical metal bars blocking the openings off. End Image Description.]

They decide to test the Soldier’s obedience and endurance.

With the serum, the Soldier is capable of taking a lot; most wounds, including bullet wounds, heal up nicely, with barely a scar left behind, and the topic of the Soldier’s healing rate is brought up a lot, with many of Hydra’s people curious as to just how much the Soldier can take.

The doctors in particular are also curious as to how well the Soldier’s mind can heal from brain damage, what would happen if the Soldier were taken out of cryo and left out without being wiped again for a while, while they do some testing.

Pierce gives the go ahead, and the doctors get a month of complete access to the Soldier, no interference unless the doctors’ safety is in immediate danger.

They decide to keep the Soldier naked in a dog crate when they’re not working with it, locking it in with a puppy pee pad and a bowl of water.

For the two weeks, they try testing every limit the Soldier might have, from physical endurance to sexual endurance to psychological endurance, running the Soldier on a treadmill for hours on end, hooking it up to a machine to pull as many orgasms from it as possible, waterboarding it, testing various diseases on it.

They ask it about its memories, and it tells them everything it remembers.

In the first week, most of it is vague memories that the Soldier can’t describe in detail: a man’s face, the sound of music the Soldier can’t identify, the feeling of punching someone, the clang of a fist hitting metal.

By the second week, the memories are starting to become a little more detailed: blond hair and blue eyes staring back at him, riding a roller coaster, the sound of someone coughing followed by a gentle shushing sound.

They put the Soldier back in its crate, and the Soldier pees on the pad as instructed, then curls up on the cold metal, its ass still laying on the pee-soaked pad since it has no space to avoid it.

In the third week, they start to test how far the Soldier will go to comply with an order. They have the Soldier stand in the middle of the room and give the Soldier a metal shock collar, informing it that speaking will cause it to be electrocuted; every time the Soldier speaks, the intensity will be increased. Then they start ordering the Soldier to respond to questions.

The first shock makes the Soldier flinch in surprise, but it quickly regains its composure, staying still for the next four shocks.

On the fifth shock, the Soldier shudders slightly. On the seventh, the Soldier shakes itself like a dog trying to dry itself off. On the ninth, the Soldier squeezes its eyes shut. On the tenth, the Soldier actually whimpers.

By the fifteenth, the Soldier’s knees have started to buckle, and by the twentieth, the Soldier is on its knees, eyes closed as it cries. By the twenty fifth, the Soldier is screaming for mercy, and by the thirtieth, the Soldier is curled in on itself, hands clawing uselessly at the collar, the fingers of its flesh hand bleeding as it rips its own nails apart in its desperation.

At forty, the Soldier passes out, but it never once refused to answer a question. The Soldier is dragged back to its crate and shoved inside, collar still firmly around its neck. In the morning, they find the Soldier laying in puddles of its own urine, feces, and vomit.

They hose down the Soldier and the crate at the same time, and the Soldier shivers as the cold water hits it, helpfully scoops water out of the bottom of the crate to try and empty the nastier parts out. When they’ve cleaned the crate, they fill the bottom with a thin layer of water, then lock the Soldier in again, no water bowl or pee pad.

The Soldier drinks the water around it and tries to hold its bladder, doesn’t want to pee in its own water, doesn’t want to lay in its own piss. No one comes in to feed the Soldier or do testing on the Soldier, so it’s hard to gauge time, but the Soldier thinks it must be night by now. The Soldier drinks some more water, then lays down to sleep for the night, ignoring its insistent bladder.

The Soldier wakes up to someone banging on the top of the crate, and it sits up, looks through the bars of the door and waits for orders.

“Do you have to piss?” The doctor asks, and the Soldier nods, trying not to seem desperate.

“Piss then,” the doctor says, and when the Soldier hesitates, “Now.”

The Soldier pisses, and the doctor nods, satisfied, and leaves. The Soldier is confused, because it thought it would be brought out now? But it curls up again anyway, waits for further commands, still unsure about whether it’s expected to drink its own piss or not.

Its question is answered the next day, when a doctor bangs on the crate again. “Are you thirsty?”

The Soldier, having avoided drinking anything the day before, nods.

“Then drink.”

The Soldier, now well aware of its expectations, leans down without hesitating to drink, even as it wrinkles its nose at the fact that it’s drinking its own piss. It only drinks a little, however, which seems to displease the doctor.

“Drink all of it.”

The Soldier drinks, licks it off the bottom of the cage, and the doctor hums noncommittally, giving the Soldier no indication whether or not it complied well enough, then opens the door to the crate. “Let’s go.”

The Soldier is brought into a room filled with doctors and scientists, a small table with a contraption the Soldier doesn’t recognize placed on it. The Soldier is placed on its knees in the center of the room, arms cuffed behind its back with vibranium cuffs, its shock collar removed and replaced with a vibranium collar with an O-ring attached to the front, connected to a chain bolted to the floor.

As the shock collar is removed, the Soldier can feel its burnt flesh being ripped from its neck, and it whimpers, but otherwise remains silent and passive, listening to a few different people’s pens and pencils scribble on clipboards. The vibranium irritates the Soldier’s already injured neck, but it doesn’t protest.

The contraption on the table is brought over by two of the doctors. “Open your mouth,” one of them orders, and the Soldier complies, closes its mouth around the bit that presses its tongue down and allows them to lock the contraption around its face and head.

“You will answer all questions verbally, understood?” one of the doctors asks.

“Yes,” the Soldier says, or tries to say, the jagged metal of the bit slicing its tongue open, and the Soldier whimpers.

“Do you work for Hydra?”

“Yes sir, hail Hydra,” the Soldier says, and tears well up in its eyes as the movement of speaking cause the metal to cut apart the Soldier’s tongue.

“Where does order come from?”

“Order comes only through pain,” the Soldier says, and now it understands, it’s supposed to accept this pain. This is its current mission.

“Do we mourn when someone in Hydra dies?”

“No sir. Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.” The Soldier’s words have become more and more garbled as blood fills its mouth, mixing with its spit and frothing from its mouth.

The doctor gives the Soldier a look of disgust. “What are you, a rabid dog? Swallow.”

The Soldier tries to swallow, but the motion only cuts the Soldier’s tongue up more, producing more blood, and the Soldier, whimpers, tries desperately to swallow but can’t, not with the bit pushing down on its tongue.

The Soldier keeps trying to swallow, only to produce more and more blood as it rips its own tongue to shreds, sobbing and screaming in its frustration and fear, trying to comply with its orders.

The doctors and scientists scribble for a few minutes while the Soldier tries in vain to obey, and finally one of the doctors speaks to it. “Stop moving.”

The Soldier stops, dropping its head in shame at having failed to complete its task, and the same two doctors that had locked the Soldier’s head into the device step forward, unlocking it and removing it from the Soldier’s head, placing it on the floor in front of it.

They unclip the Soldier’s collar from the chain on the floor, clipping a leash to its collar instead, and one of the doctors takes the leash, pulling the Soldier towards the door. “Let’s go, crawl.”

It’s awkward and slow, with the Soldier’s arms still cuffed behind its back, but the Soldier follows the doctor back to its crate, crawling on its knees as fast as possible, the doctor just dragging the Soldier forward when it falls or doesn’t move fast enough. The doctor shoves the Soldier back into the crate, and the Soldier whimpers, turns around to face the door as it locks.

Another doctor comes by with a bowl of dry dog kibble later that night, and the Soldier eats, stomach growling after days without food. The Soldier eats everything, ignores the way it can taste the blood still dripping from some of the deeper cuts on its tongue, how the dry kibble only rips some of the cuts open again. The doctor takes the bowl away when the Soldier is done.

There’s no pee pad in the crate, and no water bowl, so the Soldier just pees on the bottom of the crate then licks it up again, curling up on the floor with a broken sob.

The next day, they bring the Soldier back out of its crate, take off the cuffs on its wrists, and ask it to recall as many memories as it can. The Soldier describes what it can remember: a scrawny blond boy holding a trash can lid, a form with “1A” stamped on it, a stack of files with various names on it all stamped with “4F,” the smell and taste of chocolate milkshakes.

The Soldier is uncomfortable, because it feels like it should remember more about that, like he had a life in those memories.

The Soldier is left alone for the fourth week. It is given no food, no water, no questions, no one even enters the room, and the Soldier wonders if it has been left here for good. Around the third day of being left by itself, the Soldier starts to remember his life before he was the Soldier. He was a soldier, but the kind that can make their own decisions. That have lives. That are people.

He remembers his name is Sergeant Barnes. He remembers being called Bucky, and he remembers that little blond twerp. Steve. And Steve… Where is Steve now?

On the fourth day, Bucky remembers the Cyclone, the train, falling. He remembers the pain, of wishing that the fall had killed him, of hoping that Stevie is looking for him, of knowing that Steve won’t leave him here to die.

Bucky starts clawing at the walls and door of his crate, screaming and begging to be let out, for help, for mercy, for something, anything, just please, please, don’t leave me here.

On the fifth day, Bucky remembers Steve fighting in back alleys, the “I can do this all day,” the way his favorite punk had kept trying to enlist because he just couldn’t keep himself out of trouble.

On the sixth day, Bucky starts crying. Because Steve isn’t here, he’s probably dead, Bucky doesn’t even know what year it is, or how old he is, or what he would do even if he could escape. And even if he did escape, who knows what horrific things he’s done so far, does he even deserve to live after all of that?

On the seventh day, the doctors come in, and Bucky sobs, flinches away from the hands that reach into his crate, dragging him out as he thrashes weakly, begs for mercy, begs to be let go. They put the device back on his head, force the bit into his mouth and he cries when it cuts his lip, digs into the already painful flesh of his tongue, forces him into silence.

They lead him down the hall to a chair, forcing him into it and locking the restraints around his arms and legs. Then the machine starts up, and Bucky screams as it electrocutes him, as his head becomes nothing but blinding pain and suffering.

~~~~~

The Soldier comes back to itself, finds its handler staring at it. “Soldier?” The handler asks.

“Ready to comply.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Stalkers and Masks

Septics Inverted

A JSE Fanfic

These are two moments that I really wanted to address, but I felt both were too short for their own story. So I took one and made it a framing device for the other. One’s about Stacy and what she’s going through, and the other is about Marvin and one of his problems. Ehhh, probably not my best work but I’ve done these two plot points all the justice I can.

Read the intro story: Part One | Part Two

Various other AU-related stuff found here

Taglist: @evyptids​ @awkward-bullshit​ @watermelonsinmyattic​ @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @metautske​ @odysseus-is-best-boi​ @acuriousquail @beerecordings

Stacy liked to think that her computer was secure. She kept up-to-date on her antivirus software, didn’t give trust anything that asked for her security information, and kept her passwords on a sheet of paper in her nightstand drawer instead of anywhere digitally that could be hacked. However, she quickly learned that all these precautions were for naught when it came to the living glitch who decided he wanted to check on her every ten hours or so. She’d be browsing the Internet and suddenly the webpage would freak out. That didn’t mean she was being hacked (actually, technically she was) it just meant Anti decided to pop in.

Honestly, she was starting to warm up to him. Maybe that was because he hadn’t showed up in person for the last week so she didn’t have to deal with his personality. Occasionally she’d get an email or text from a blocked user, asking her how life was, if she was safe. And, well, life was better. She’d gotten a new job at a department store with better pay. The hours were good too, now she had time to spend with her kids and also get enough sleep. Things in the city seemed to have calmed down, in that there was less death and disappearance on the news.

But...something was off. There were times when she was out and about, driving the kids to places or running errands on her own, when she felt like someone was watching her. When she looked around, she usually didn’t see anyone. But there were times when she thought she saw...him. To the point where it was starting to freak her out.

One night, after putting the kids to bed, she sat down at her computer and typed a simple phrase into Google: “how to tell if someone is stalking me.” Immediately, the page froze. She hit enter several times, trying to search, but a strange, rapid staticky beeping just came out from her speakers. And it was that moment when she realized it wasn’t just something wrong with her Internet.

A fizzing of pixels later, Anti was sitting on her desk, legs dangling off the side. “What are you, seven?” she asked before her brain could catch up with her mouth.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Anti said. “So what’s up with that search?”

“Are you spying on me whenever I use Google?”

“No, I just installed a program to let me know when certain words were searched. Such as ‘stalk’ or ‘stalking.’” His eye narrowed. “So? What’s the deal? Is it him?”

“I’m...not sure,” Stacy said slowly. “Sometimes I think I see him, other times I just get a...a vague sort of sense that...someone’s watching me. It’s probably nothing, I’m probably just being stupid, but...better safe than sorry, y’know?”

“Definitely, especially considering they could be magically tracking you.”

Stacy gaped at him and his nonchalant statement. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, you were there that night at the diner. You saw that magic was real. Didn’t you think something like that was possible?”

“No, I didn’t.” Stacy leaned back in her swivel chair. “I guess it never occurred to me that that was a-a possibility. I didn’t know the rules for this sort of thing. Sorry, I should have thought—I should have known.”

Anti stared at her, then glitched off the desk and into a standing position. “No, you really shouldn’t have, because nobody told you. It’s not your fault, so don’t assume it is. I could possibly give you a brief overview, let you know what you’re in danger of.”

“Oh! Th-thank you!” Stacy hadn’t realized she was apologizing for things that weren’t her fault. Force of habit, she assumed. She looked at the computer screen, where her question still lingered, unsearched, in the search bar. “Do you think...I-I mean, I know Chase doesn’t have any magic, unless he does and I didn’t know, so...are they teaming up?”

Anti considered this. “Probably. Your ex and the magician aren’t on the best terms, but they’re civil. You’d be in more danger of having the doctor or the vigilante stalking you for him, those guys are closer.”

For some reason, that simple statement made dread pool in her stomach. “H-how many of them are there again?”

“Five.”

“And...and they could all help Ch—help him follow me?”

“Mmm, probably.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Stacy sat on her hands to keep them from shaking. She’d never done anything in her life to warrant so many enemies. And, if she remembered correctly, these guys were responsible for most of the current chaos and terror in the city. She worked hard to take deep, controlled breaths. “Do you...do you have any, uh, um, any info on these guys I could see? You’re all computery, do you have files on them or something?”

“I do. But you don’t want the full files, you’ll lose sleep. I can maybe give you some edited versions...” Anti’s head tilted to one side. He stared intently at her computer screen. She watched as her browser closed and her file explorer opened. By itself, the computer navigated to the downloads folder, then five new folders appeared, each one labeled with a name, followed by (edit).

“Huh...that’s handy.” Stacy scooted her chair closer to the desk, grabbing the mouse. She stared at the folder with his name on it for a while, but she couldn’t bring herself to click on it. Instead, she clicked on the next one down, opening up the folder to reveal various .txt files.

“There used to be photos and videos in here,” Anti said, peering over her shoulder.

“Why’d you remove them?”

“How squeamish are you?”

“I mean...my daughter broke her arm once. It was all bent but I could look at it.”

“I probably made a good call then.” Anti pointed at one of the files, and it opened up. “Brief overview: guy’s a doctor. Not really, ‘cause he got booted from medical school for maltreatment. Didn’t stop him from faking graduation, getting a job at a hospital, and then stealing the patients who wouldn’t be missed.”

“This sounds like the backstory of a horror movie villain,” Stacy laughed nervously.

Anti didn’t laugh. “I’m sure the patients thought they were stuck in a horror movie.” He gave Stacy a dead-eye stare until her smile faded. Then he turned back to the screen. “Police in his home country found out. He ran, ending up here. Started a nice little black-market clinic and kept up his hobby.”

“You know I think I’ll read this one later, when it’s lighter outside.” Stacy hurried to click out of the folder. She opened up the next one instead. This one had videos as well as text files. “...should I be worried about these?” she asked, circling one of the videos with the mouse.

“Nothing explicit, just violence like you’d see in a movie. Criminals get the shit beat out of them. The works.”

“Wait...this is for that vigilante, isn’t it? The one on the news?” Stacy looked at the folder name. “That’s his real—”

“Yep. So if you see a guy who looks like this—” He opened one of the videos, fast forwarding until he got to a good image of the vigilante’s face. “—and he introduces himself to you as that, you better run. Actually, don’t, he’s probably faster than you. Distract him until you can sneak away.”

“He can’t be that bad, can he?” Stacy asked, skeptical. “I mean...getting rid of the criminals in the city? It’s like a real-life superhero.”

“Well, superheroes don’t beat confessions out of mob members and then murder them. He’s probably the safest to have a conversation with, though. Assuming you haven’t done anything illegal.”

“O-kay...then...” Stacy was starting to realize just how deep this trouble she was in really was. She could feel the beginnings of panic edging in on her, but she pushed it away. She’d let herself freak out later. “Wh-what about that magician guy? I think you called him Marvin in the diner? Can he really...magically track me?”

“Probably.” Anti closed the vigilante’s folder and opened up the magician’s. There were a lot of images in this one, what looked like pictures of pages from books. “I’ve been trying to keep track of the spells he knows, but it can be difficult. There’s a good chance he knows a tracking spell, but he probably wouldn’t use it unless someone, like your ex, asked him to.”

“...do I want to know why?”

“Eh, he doesn’t really care for spells like that. If they can’t produce effects he can see, he won’t use them unless necessary. He’s a flashy bitch like that. Has a style and sticks to it. Like that cape, which he only takes off maybe one day per week, and that mask, which I actually haven’t seen him take off yet.”

“Really? Never? Not even to sleep or take a shower or anything?”

“Sleeps with it on. And I’m don’t know about that shower thing, I didn’t put a camera in their bathroom.”

Stacy briefly wondered if his knowledge about sleeping with the mask meant he’d put cameras in the bedrooms, but she pushed that out of her mind for now. “Why? Seems uncomfortable...”

Anti laughed. “Well, a long time ago, he tried a spell he wasn’t ready for, and it blew up in his face. I’m pretty sure he’s embarrassed about what it looks like underneath there...”

“Schneep! I know for a fact you’re in there!” Marvin banged on the door. When there was still no answer, he sighed, looking around the reception room of the clinic where he was standing. He didn’t like this place. It was that kind of almost-nice that looked like it was trying to fool you into thinking it was less shady than it actually was. The good doctor really needed to upgrade his decor.

Having enough of contemplating his dislike of this place, Marvin turned back to the door and started banging harder. “Hey doc! I’m not against melting your door down if you don’t come out in the next thirty seconds!”

The door flung open, and Marvin barely jumped out of the way in time to avoid getting a whack to the face. Schneep poked his head out. He was wearing his mask, which he proceeded to pull down in order to scowl at Marvin. “There is no need for such a commotion, my friend!” he scolded. “I was in one of the back rooms, I did not hear you for a while and then it took me a tick-tock to get here.”

“Whatever. Get a security camera wired up here, or a buzzer or something. I could’ve been a customer who just decided to take business elsewhere.”

Schneep barked out a laugh. “If people come here, it is not because they have options to take business to. But enough of this, what did you want?”

Marvin shifted on his feet. “I...need you to take a look at something.”

“Oh, is that all?” A wave of relief crossed Schneep’s face. He stepped back, opening the door wide enough for Marvin to pass through. “Come in, come in, I can see what it is back here.”

Marvin let Schneep lead him into the operating part of the clinic, but he refused to sit down on the table. “It seems not so serious, so if you would please wait a moment while I take care of this...” Schneep vanished through one of the metal doors leading deeper into the building, leaving Marvin to tap his feet impatiently. He didn’t like this. First of all, this place looked like it was thrown together, and also needed an upgrade. Second of all, he was already having doubts about this, he didn’t want them to have time to fester.

Schneep reemerged, tossing an empty syringe on a nearby tray. “There we are, we will not be disturbed now,” he said. “What is it you need help with?”

Marvin started fidgeting, pulling on his fingers. “Okay. So. I am—look, I’m trusting you with this. You can’t tell anyone, alright?”

“That is no problem.”

“I’m serious. I will literally put a fucking curse on you if I find out you told anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve been working on one that can make it feel like pins are being shoved in your eyes whenever you look at something, and that something can be as vague as a specific color. Y’know, like the literal version of ‘cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.’”

“Now you are going overboard with this. I have no intention of telling anyone whatever it is this is about. This secret of yours is safe with me.”

Marvin exhaled slowly, and looked toward the ceiling. “Okay. Okay, good. Fuck. Here goes nothing.” Before he could change his mind, he reached up and undid the straps of his mask, then pulled it off. He slowly looked back towards the doctor.

Schneep’s eyes were wide. He stepped forward until he was uncomfortably close to Marvin. He raised his hand. “May I...?”

Marvin hesitated. “...fine,” he grumbled. “But take off your gloves, they’re still messy. And be careful.”

The doctor pulled off his gloves, then put his hands on either side of Marvin’s head, turning it from side to side so he could get a better look. “My god,” he muttered. “What happened to you?”

“That’s not your fucking business,” Marvin said through gritted teeth. “But they’ve been...itching for a while now, and I’m wondering if they’re infected or something.”

“I would be surprised if they were not. They look...angry.” Schneep’s eyebrows furrowed. “How old are they?”

“I think about...four years at this point?” Marvin started turning his mask over in his hands. It was hard to remember sometimes.

“Really? I would think only a couple months.”

“Doc, I’ve been living with you for two years and haven’t once taken off my mask. You didn’t think there was a reason for that?”

“Ah yes.” Tentatively, Schneep reached out and tapped Marvin in the middle of his forehead. “What is this?”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Marvin yanked his head back.

“Excuse me, I am concerned! That looks like bone!”

“It’s not bone, it’s just—making my first mask out of ceramic was a really bad idea, ‘cause even magically-enhanced pottery can still shatter.”

“Why do you have ceramic embedded in your face?!”

Marvin resisted the urge to touch the places where the shards had ended up lodging. He had them memorized by now, mostly because of the dead spot in his nerves there. Forehead, upper cheeks, one between his nose and left eye, one above his right. He could have dealt with the rest of the scars, if only the shards weren’t there. “Look, I was wearing my old mask at the time this happened, it broke, I ended up getting pieces of porcelain fucking stuck to my face, can we move on?!”

Schneep raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Okay, okay, fine!”

“Thank you.” Marvin began spinning his mask around his pointer finger, using one of the eyeholes. “Anyway, can you tell if they’re infected? And can you help if they are?”

Schneep bit his lip, eyes scanning the damage. “Well, I would have to know what caused them. They look a bit like burns, but in the pattern of knife slashes. Like hot glass.”

“What?”

“Bits of broken glass, heated up so they will burn, flung at your face. That’s what it looks like. There are also parts where I am reminded of Lichtenburg figures.”

“What?” Marvin repeated, exasperated.

“When things are struck by high voltage, patterns will appear. These are not quite the same as scars of lightning, they are...bigger. But I am reminded of them.”

Marvin sighed. “You know what? Let’s just work under the assumption that someone took a hot, electrified knife and repeatedly applied it to my face, that’s probably as accurate as you’re going to get. There might also be some lingering traces of magic in there.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Well, I cannot do anything about that, but if they are itching and irritating you, I have some salves that may help. They are in the other back room, the storage one, if you would kindly follow me.”

“Alright, alright, but I hope you find this stuff quickly. Chase is making me watch his ex for him, and I don’t feel like getting into a shouting match with him over not actually doing it.”

It was around midnight when Stacy decided to go to bed. She’d tried to read through the file Anti had given her on the magician, but had to stomp halfway through. Some of these spells...why would anyone want to use spells like that? Instead, she switched to reading the vigilante’s file, managing to finish it. Then she realized it was way too late, and she had to get up early to make breakfast for the kids, get ready for work, take the kids to school, and go to work herself. That was only four things, but that was too much.

She was walking down the hall to her room when there was a knock on the front door.

Fear jolted through her. Who could be knocking this late at night? Nobody good, probably. She stood shock-still in the hallway, waiting for something else. When nothing happened, she swallowed her nerves and crept toward the living room and the front door. Maybe it was nothing?

When she flipped the lights on, the front room looked exactly the same as it had earlier that day. Except for one thing: there was now a brown envelope sitting on the floor, in the perfect position to have been pushed through the mail slot. Stacy slowly stepped forward. She peered through the peephole on the door, seeing nothing on the other side. So she looked down at the envelope on the floor, then bent over and picked it up. She turned it over in her hands.

There were words written on the back of the envelope. “Hello sweetheart.”

Stacy recognized that handwriting.

She collapsed on the couch, staring at the envelope, listening to her heart pounding in her ears.

He’d found her.

[iwritesoimright]

Some jealous loki? Maybe his still not in the relationship with reader and she still don't get what he wants from her but after that she will finally get it. XD

A/N: I love me some Loki. Sorry this took forever to get done, but as my first story on this blog I wanted it to be good. Anyway, this was really fun to write, though I do apologize for the intro and the ending being a bit off? I tried to fix it but it wasn’t working so I said screw it. I also wrote this instead of doing my journalism project that is due tomorrow… oops… I was just really excited to write this. Also Id like to say thanks to my friend Andrew who edited this for me, free of charge while also doing my math homework for me, that boy is a saint. Anyway, enough of my ramblings, on to the story!

What He Wants

word count: 1,489

Summary: Loki is having trouble coming to terms with his feelings for the reader, but with a little bit of guidance from Thor, both him and the reader are finally able to figure it out. Complete fluff. 

Warnings: None? I might’ve swore once but I cant remember…

It’s not often Loki doesn’t get what he wants.  It is also rare when he doesn’t know how to get it, though to be fair it took him an extremely long time to figure out what he wanted. and that’s always the first step.  

Maybe it was the way you gave him a comforting smile before each mission that made him want you, or the playful nudge you’d give him whenever you walked by, or the way your eyes seemed to always find his and immediately fill him with warmth. Perhaps it was the fact that when he was around you he felt a rush of power that he hadn’t felt in centuries, or to contrast it was the aura of calmness that he gathered from you. You were quite the paradox.  

Truth be told he doesn’t know what made him want you. To make him pick one thing would be like asking someone to pick one of their organs to keep and having the rest viciously removed. But he does know for certain what made him finally realize you were what he wanted, and unfortunately it was his own brother.  

It was a regular day for you, and started off with some sparring practice with Thor in the gym. You playfully shoved his shoulder as you both walked to the mat, “you ready to get your ass beat sparkles?” Thor rolled his eyes and tossed his bag on a nearby bench, “You know the last time someone called me sparkles was when I took down Hulk. I wouldn’t test me if I were you”. You laughed at his defensiveness and squared up on the mat, “oh really now? Cuz a little birdie told me you didn’t really win that fight.” He glared at you, or at least tried to before breaking out in a wide smile. As you were preparing to fight, you felt someone’s burning gaze on the back of your head, but you looked around and saw no one, which gave Thor the perfect opportunity to take you by surprise and tackle you to the floor.  

Loki stood in the shadows, watching you and his brother laugh. He watched as a teasing smirk graced your lips, your eyes sparkled with mischief. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach as he observed your interactions with each other. This feeling, he didn’t know what it was but he sure as hell didn’t like it, when he felt a sharp jab of it as he watched Thors arms wrap around you and take you to the ground. he couldn’t stand to watch anymore.

Later that afternoon, Loki sat in the corner common room reading a book as Natasha and Steve arm wrestled at the kitchen counter. “you’re cheating! I know you’re cheating Nat, this is the fifth time you’ve won!” Steve shouted, throwing his hands in the air as he walked away from the table. Natasha rolled her eyes and followed him, “you know, just because you have all that super strength does not automatically make you good at arm wrestling” she teased, “you have to have a little something called technique.” Steve scoffed at her comment as he plopped down on the sofa, and flipped on the TV.  

Loki listened their banter with slight amusement and relief, Steve had been accusing Natasha of cheating for the past half hour. Suddenly a loud ruckus caught Lokis attention,making him look up from his book to see you stumble into the room, gripping your stomach from laughing too hard. Thor sullenly walked in behind you, his face downcast. “guess who won again!!” You cheered, skipping into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Thor followed and slumped down on a kitchen chair, “okay, you did kick my ass, but in my defense, I’ve had a very rough week.” “a rough week? Really Thor? Its Monday.” You quipped, as you handed him a glass of water. “yes, I know and, in that time, I’ve gotten my ass kicked so I would say that qualifies as a rough week.” He explained, ruffling your hair, still wet from your shower. “don’t worry, you’re not the only one who got their ass kicked today, cap over here lost to me about five straight times in arm wrestling” Natasha jabbed a thumb over at the blond soldier who started to make his retort.  

Loki tuned out the rest of the conversation, choosing to focus on you instead. Your wet hair, darker than normal from the water, framed your face, contrasting with the brightness that shown from your eyes with every laugh. Those glimmering eyes flickered over to his, you smiled, and invited him to join the conversation. Loki felt his heart flutter, however the good feeling diminished when he saw Thors hand reach over and rest on your thigh. The feeling he felt in his stomach from the gym returned, but even worse this time. Loki snapped his book shut and abruptly stood up, all the chatter in the room dying as everyone looked up at him, startled by his sudden movements. He glanced at your face, your eyes that were filled with warmth and happiness just two seconds ago were now fading to confusion. He then turned and stormed out of the room.  

You knew Loki wasn’t a real talkative but you’ve never known him to just run from a conversation, “what the hell was that?” You asked. Steve shrugged, “who knows what’s up with that guy honestly, the smallest things set him off sometimes. I wouldn’t worry about it.” Thor sighed, and leaned over to you, “You should go talk to him.” You looked at him incredulously, “Wait what? Why? You’re his brother, shouldn’t you?”. He shook his head and laughed, “No, no, no, see he’s mad at me, and he needs to talk to you, you calm him down.” Your look of confusion remained on your face and he sighed once again, “just go talk to him, you’ll see what I mean.” “o-okay, I guess…” You stuttered as you got up and walked to the hallway. A knowing smile graced Thors face as he watched you leave. His plan was working.

You entered the hallway to see Loki standing with his face to the wall, his fist resting next to his head, slightly bloody from where he had apparently been punching the wall. “Loki?” You called, slowly stepping up to him. He looked up, finally noticing your presence and quickly stepped back from the wall. “Y/n, I’m ah, I’m sorry for my outburst in there, I don’t quite know what took over me.” he awkwardly looked to the floor, avoiding your gaze. You looked at him with questioning eyes before you reached out to grab a hold of his bloodied hand, stepping closer to him in the process. “well clearly, you’re upset about something, you know you can talk to me, right?” He looked up to see your eyes now filled with concern, and he also noticed that with the closer proximity he could pick out almost every detail on your face, the way your eyebrows creased together, and the way small droplets of water from your hair made your skin shine even more.  

Lokis emotions were running wild in his head. The combination of his jealous rage and the sad pleading look in your eyes, he didn’t know what to do. He shook his head and stepped back, “I’m fine, really, why don’t you go back to Thor, he probably misses you. ” Loki pulled away, his voice slightly angry. His sudden change in attitude threw you off and you clocked your head to the side, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Thor? Okay seriously. What’s up? you’re punching walls, getting mad at your brother for some reason, and pushing yourself further and further away from the team, just tell me what’s wrong!”  you looked into his eyes,and pleaded him to let down his walls and let you in.

Subconsciously he started inching closer to you, pushing you back until your hit the wall behind you. His eyes continued to search yours for some kind of answer, some way to show you exactly how he felt. Your breath hitched with every step he took, and soon your breaths were mingling together. “Loki-” “No, sh just let me…” His bloodied hand lifted up to caress your cheek, gentle as his thumb swiped along your cheekbone. You were more confused than ever. “Loki, do you-do you like me?” You asked, his downcast eyes flickered up to yours, “yes I’m afraid so darling.” With those words your face lit up in a bright smile, “well you should’ve said that in the first place dummy!” Now it was his turn to be confused, “what, what do you mean?”. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered “just shut up and kiss me ya idiot.” And he did just that.